Powerful

People are voting emotionally.

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

"The Letter" is a 1940 film-noir film set in 1940's Singapore. The film was directed by William Wyler, and was written by W. Somerset Maugham, as well as Howard Koch, who wrote the screenplay. It stars Bette Davis, Herbert Marshall, and James Stephenson. "The Letter" is about Leslie Crosbie, played by Bette Davis, who lives with her husband, Robert, played by Herbert Marshall. They live on a rubber plantation in Singapore, living comfortably until Leslie is found shooting one Geoffry Hammond until the clip is empty. She explains to her husband and her lawyer, Howard Joyce, played by James Stephenson, that she shot the man in self-defense after he tried to assault her. After dinner, however, the inevitable possibility of murder charges leaves the room momentarily silent. All seems in Leslie's favor, but when a letter in her handwriting requesting the victim's presence is found, she denies ever writing it. There's a problem though: The letter is in the hands of Mrs. Hammond, the victim's wife. Howard Joyce is faced with the decision to either let the letter be presented in court by the prosecution, or to buy the letter for $10,000, going against his morals. It's a thrilling mystery that will leave you surprised at the resolution. One of the movie's greatest strengths is the soundtrack. Composed of mostly strings, the soundtrack can create an atmosphere of terror, shock, grief, warmness, and joy when appropriate, and it does it masterfully. The music pulls you in, especially in the case of the murder scene.The murder scene is the most important in any good crime film, and "The Letter" contains an excellent one. We hear some relaxing oriental music, pulling us into this supposed quiet atmosphere. But it's suddenly cut short by the sound of gunfire. We see the brutal murder of Geoffry Hammond, and the gunshots ring loud, accompanied by the barks of dogs as the music is cut. Leslie empties the chamber of all of its bullets, emphasizing the severity of this situation. And as the rubber farmers look on in horror, dark clouds cover the moon, creating a sense of dread.All in all, "The Letter" is a true classic that stands up to the test of time by using its soundtrack and use of cinematography to create any kind of atmosphere it needs to, usually that of dread. Excellent storytelling, great acting, and a fantastic soundtrack make this a great movie for any fans of film noir.

. . . by an inscrutable Asian upon an unarmed American woman--Bette Davis--in BOTH versions of its climax, it's clear that Warner Bros.' live-action feature THE LETTER is much MORE than merely an adaptation of novelist W. Somerset Maugham's best-seller. Just as Japan broke ALL the rules of warfare with its perfidious destruction of America's Sunday Morning-Worshipping Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor within months of this Warner Bros. Warning (following up THAT outrage with a non-stop Parade of War Crimes including the Bataan Death March), THE LETTER is carefully crafted to shine a spotlight revealing the True Nature of that outlaw island war criminal hangout's Threat to Civilization. Using Singapore as a stand-in for Japan (Warner could hardly film in Tokyo while that Failed Rogue State was Raping Nanking), Bette's garishly Be-Bangled She-Devil Rival for Asia's Scarce Natural Resources first bankrupt's Bette's household through a nasty Blackmail Plot before Back-Stabbing her to death. This sorry conclusion aptly forecasts how a Resource-Envious Japan had its two-faced ambassador "talking peace" in Washington, DC, at the very moment that the Japanese Death Bombs began raining down upon the placid worship services in Hawaii.

This 1940 version of the film was made eleven years after the first sound version, but for what the film had to give up due to the production code, it more than made up in production values that weren't even possible in the 1929 version.The production code version of The Letter is the slow peeling of a woman's plea of self-defense against an attempted rape into the cold-blooded murder of a lover who has become bored with her. Yes Bette Davis' Leslie Crosbie is peeled like an onion, but no tears are necessary.Everyone fawns and gushes over Leslie and her plight of being arrested for the murder of a man who tried to rape her. The only one NOT falling all over himself over her is her lawyer. Howard Joyce (played by James Stephenson) has a rather cold, hard look like a leading man worthy of acting opposite the Warner Queen. He stands toe to toe with her. He asks questions that cast just a slight doubt as to the veracity of her story. He talks to the cop and asks him if attacking a woman sounds like Hammond's m.o. since he seemed to be a ladies' man. There's just enough doubt there give us pause.I could talk about the lawyer's assistant who is intent on using blood money to subvert justice and rob an innocent husband, all so he can build his own law practice. Gale Sondegard's Eurasian widow never wanted the money, she just wanted the face off with Leslie. She has her own ideas of how to deal with her husband's death and it doesn't involve juries or blackmail. But, let's face it, Bette Davis owns this film. Slowly she reveals her true self and the truth of the events. Then she becomes the Legend we know her to be. She has a self-assured answer for everything until her lawyer brings up the letter. It's all in those Bette Davis eyes. She needs time to remember (to lie, she means). She faints when she runs out of excuses. Look at her tactic: she mentions how all of this will affect her husband. It's like a guy trying to get his wife to stay for the sake of the children. Her lawyer is her husband's close friend, and she correctly figures he'll do anything to protect the husband.Now let's talk about Wyler's direction, particularly in that opening scene. Wyler could have used a series of cuts to show various aspects of the workers, but the flowing camera tells us that everything is connected together. It's almost like cause and effect. First the rubber tree, then those who work to harvest the trees, and only then the dramas of the owners. When you look at the film closely, you can't help but be impressed by Wyler's direction, which works hand in hand with Max Steiner's haunting score.Now I'm also a big fan of the 1929 version of The Letter. But that film was made at the dawn of sound and is almost like this one in reverse. First the truth about Leslie Crosbie, then the subterfuge. In both cases her last words are the same - "With all my heart I still love the man I killed". But in this film it is the regret of a woman who realizes she is not good enough for her husband who loves and forgives her. In the 1929 version they are the words of a woman acquitted who is telling her bitter husband "If I am stuck with you, YOU are equally stuck with ME".Watch this one. Over and over. You'll always catch something you missed before.

William Wyler's version of the Somerset Maugham classic is very much of its time, full of colonial stereotypes of the true British gentleman and his spouse, stiff upper lips and scheming orientals headed by Victor Sen Yung as lawyer's clerk Ong Chi Seng.And yet the film remains probably the best of several versions available on different media. Although relentlessly studio-bound, Tony Gaudio's photography is particularly memorable, as the camera relentlessly pursues the protagonists, never letting them out of its sight. The use of symbolic close-ups on the eponymous letter, and the knives that Leslie Crosbie (Bette Davis) encounters on her visit to the Chinese junk-shop warn us of what will follow. Deep-focus establishing-shots of the opulent interiors of the British colonists' quarters remind us of their lives of privileged affluence, seldom punctuated by uncomfortable realities. This is why the murder of Geoff Hammond (David Newell) causes such a stir, and why lawyer Howard Joyce (James Stephenson) is willing to risk accusations of malpractice in order to guarantee Leslie's innocence.The story is a familiar one, that of Leslie confessing to a murder and then trying to deceive her well-meaning husband (Herbert Marshall) while preserving her reputation. We know what will happen in the end (the Production Code would not have permitted anything else), but director Wyler ensures that there are plenty of things to remember on the way. The action proceeds through a series of shot/ reverse shot sequences interspersed with lengthy takes, giving the film a faintly stagy look. Yet this doesn't matter, as it allows us to concentrate on Davis's unbelievable range of facial expressions, as well as her unique eye-work as she tries to maintain a respectable facade while knowing in her heart the futility of her task. Elegantly costumed (by Orry- Kelly), with scarcely a hair out of place in her coiffed look, she is the very epitome of the colonist's spouse.The supporting cast are equally good, but in different ways. Marshall carries off the role of the husband like a cut-price Ronald Colman, seldom losing his sang-froid until the moment when he discovers the truth about his wife. Stephenson is especially good as the lawyer, walking ramrod-straight through each frame with an air of authority, but guiltily acknowledging his secret in the courtroom scene (even though judge and jury do not notice it). In the non-speaking role of the deceased's wife, Gale Sondergaard - who would later distinguish herself as the baddie in several Universal horror films - smolders with suppressed rage as she tries to stare Leslie into confessing her sins.The film is only ninety-one minutes long, but the action unfolds with such intensity that viewers are rendered exhausted at the end.