The film begins with a gunshot. Then another.
A man staggers out of a posh jungle bungalow and onto the front steps. A well-dressed woman walks outside and finishes the job.
The moon emerges from behind the clouds and hits the killer’s eyes. It’s Bette Davis. And she has a look of cold, merciless satisfaction.
Davis plays Leslie Crosby. She lives in colonial Singapore. She’s married to the manager of a rubber plantation. And she is one heck of a liar.
After the murder, Leslie’s husband and a cop arrive to comfort her. Leslie tells a vivid story of how the deceased – Geoff Hammond – drunkenly accosted her. She shot him in self-defense.
The #BelieveWomen movement is alive and well in the British colonies. Everyone thinks Leslie is a brave hero. The murder trial is little more than a formality.
Not so fast. Family friend and defense attorney Howard Joyce is preparing for the easy case when his law clerk Ong Chi Seng enters. Ong has the copy of a bombshell letter that Leslie wrote to Geoff the day of the murder.
Ong reports that the original letter – which will doom Leslie to the hangman – is in the possession of Geoff Hammond’s widow. Mrs. Hammond wants $10,000.
Now here’s where “The Letter” gets more interesting than the average Film Noir. The emotional center of the movie isn’t psycho Leslie; it’s decent Englishman Howard Joyce.
Poor Howard has an impossible dilemma: He can do the right thing and let his buddy’s wife get hanged. Or he can illegally buy the letter and let a sociopath killer free.
Empathy for lawyers is not my strength. But I truly felt for Howard. He says he is concerned about being disbarred for suppressing evidence. But with the way his smile disappears and his posture changes, we understand that Howard has bigger worries. He fears that he won’t be able to answer for himself in the afterlife.
Howard’s Singaporean clerk Ong is even more interesting. Some people view colonialism as a simple story of oppressors and victims. But Ong didn’t get the memo.
Ong is the one who plans and executes the entire letter blackmail exchange. Only he’s so self-effacing that it takes Howard a while to realize who’s running the show. “Ong Chi Seng,” the lawyer finally asks, “…what are you getting out of this?” “Two thousand dollars,” Ong smiles, “and the great satisfaction of being of service to you and our client.”
How can you be both an obsequious underling and the big boss? Ong shows us.
“The Letter” works as a moody Film Noir. It works as a showcase for Bette Davis. And it works as an unexpectedly sophisticated legal drama. It’s a splendid little movie.