Malachi Kirby

Wicked Little Letters

19/02/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’m primed to like Wicked Little Letters. With Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley and Anjana Vasan as the triumvirate of talent at its helm, what could possibly go wrong?

And yet I find myself struggling to warm to this film. Despite fine performances from the three leads, as well as a stellar supporting cast (including Timothy Spall, Joanna Scanlan and Alisha Weir), it feels somehow both heavy-handed and insubstantial.

Set in 1920s Littlehampton, Wicked Little Letters is loosely based on a true story. Colman plays Edie Swan, a repressed spinster, unable to escape from her overbearing father (Spall). When a spirited Irish widow (Buckley) moves into the house next door – complete with daughter Nancy (Weir) and new partner Bill (Malachi Kirby) – Edie is delighted, but her friendship with Rose soon turns sour. Then Edie begins to receive poison pen letters, and the local bobbies know exactly where to lay the blame. But Woman Police Officer Gladys Moss (Vasan) thinks they may have jumped the gun…

To quote the very excellent Deborah Frances-White, “I’m a feminist, but…” the misogyny in this movie is cartoon-like, laid on with a proverbial trowel. At the same time, racial politics are completely ignored. I find it hard to believe that the same white male colleagues who openly sneer at Gladys because of her gender wouldn’t also have something to say about the fact that she’s Asian. Likewise, it’s incredible that Rose doesn’t face much anti-Irish prejudice, and no one ever mentions the fact that Bill is Black. I like the fact that the fictional characters are more diverse than their real-life counterparts, but intersectionality matters, and it doesn’t make sense to ignore it here.

At first, I enjoy the humour in Jonny Sweet’s script, but I get bored of the whole “sad stinky fucking foxy arsehole” sweariness; it’s repetitive and the shock value soon wears thin. Director Thea Sharrock does a good job of evoking a sense of time and place, and of allowing her cast to shine, but there’s no getting away from the thin material. It doesn’t help that there are no red herrings, or that what little suspense there is is squandered by revealing the culprit at the halfway point.

Colman, of course, is brilliant, managing to convey a perfect mixture of horror and triumph every time she utters a profanity – and this, along with Buckley’s brittle vivacity and Vasan’s wide-eyed determination, elevates the film. Wicked Little Letters works well as a character study, less so as a compelling narrative.

3.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Small Axe: Mangrove

20/11/20

BBC iPlayer

The first release in Steve McQueen’s Small Axe series, Mangrove, plays a little like a British version of Aaron Sorkin’s recent American project, The Trial of the Chicago 7. It relates an all-too-familiar story of police persecuting black people, in this case, the proprietors and customers of Mangrove, a West Indian restaurant in Notting Hill, established in the late 60s.

Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) sets the place up in an attempt to give his neighbours a community hub, where they can enjoy traditional Jamaican cuisine, the odd game of cards and some playful banter – but, as the new decade looms, he regularly suffers at the hands of the local Metropolitan police force, in particular PC Pulley (Sam Spruell), an unabashed racist who seizes every opportunity to raid the establishment, beating up customers and gleefully trashing whatever comes to hand, simply because there’s nobody to stop him.

But Pulley has reckoned without Black Panther member Altheia Jones (Letitia Wright) and her activist friend, Darcus Howe (Malachi Kirby). Together, they encourage Frank to organise a peaceful protest march to complain about the rough treatment they are receiving. When the police’s heavy-handed attempts to control proceedings ensure that the march erupts into violence, it soon becomes clear that the only way the matter can be properly resolved is in court.

McQueen manages to capture the heady atmosphere as the inhabitants of Notting Hill spread their wings and take their first flights in the direction of a perceived freedom, little realising what a long and arduous trip it is going to be. There are strong performances from an ensemble cast, with Kirby and Rochenda Sandall particularly impressive as Howe and his girlfriend, Barbara Beese, and Spruell brilliantly loathsome as the odious Pulley.

There’s a vibrant soundtrack of early 70s hits, ranging from ska classics to the mellow tones of Jim Reeves, and McQueen’s team has a good eye for period detail. At times shaming – Alex Jennings’ portrayal of Judge Clarke offers a toe-curling depiction of a privileged white man seemingly oblivious to his own innate racism – Mangrove is a timely reminder that, though things surely have improved to some degree, there’s still a very long way to go before the UK achieves anything approaching equality for all.

With another four episodes to follow, each one featuring a different story, this is a powerful opening salvo in the Small Axe series, and makes it clear that McQueen is determined to take no prisoners. Bring it on.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney