I took an unofficial survey of recent British periods, a survey with a small sample, and this sample suggests that most films under that sub genre still take themselves really seriously. Thea Sharrock’s Wicked Little Letters is a wild retelling of a real scandal that rocked Britain. It falls within the sizeable minority of lax period pieces depicting the Britons. One that, for the most part, successfully shows the prurience bubbling under society’s polite members. Some are bad at hiding their real selves, while others think they’re better at it than they actually are.

Here, after all, is a film that shows us antiheroine Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley) headbutting someone, which in fairness, that old toff deserves it, but this just puts a target on her back. That target becomes noticeable when her neighbour Edith Swan (Olivia Colman, producing the most Olivia Colman-coded film) gets lewd letters. Rose becomes the prime suspect, going to jail for a crime she may be innocent of. She has reluctant allies at least. One of them is Woman Officer Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan), who has a suspicion that the true letter writer is someone within their midst.

Films like this exist for the performances, especially one like Buckley’s interpretation of Rose, giving levels to a character that has tendencies to be brash. She reunites with her Lost Daughter co-star Colman, who encompasses what this film is about. Wicked Little Letters touches on the inherent performativity of virtue. Some want to be nostalgic about how people in the past can plausibly be virtuous without any faults. This performativity, though, is an aspect of virtue that most people in the contemporary West understand now.

Wicked Little Letters must have been a fun movie to make but that means putting some things on the wayside, because I can see quite the flaws here. The previous paragraph is basically about how great both Buckley and Colman are but they’re aces individually. They’re mostly great together, but there’s a scene or two of them together that feel like filler. Other flaws are within Gladys’ storyline, who basically gets the ‘cop going rogue’ arc. Back to Rose, she has a subplot that makes the film feel unnecessarily longer.

Wicked Little Letters’ three main characters aren’t perfect but at least Sharrock and screenwriter Jonny Sweet build a solid world of supporting characters around them. Timothy Spall plays Edith’s father who antagonises her. Malachi Kirby plays Bill, Rose’s boyfriend, one of the film’s beating hearts. Let’s return to the film’s other elements though. I spoiled myself on the film’s mystery. And yet, it gives us enough curveballs to make me think it was gonna really retell the story. Lastly, this film gives a comedic spin to the outlets of many women’s inner rage.

Watch Wicked Little Letters in select Canadian theatres.