Letter, The (1929)

A shot in the night, a faithless wife, a vengeful woman and a damning billet-doux!

US / 61 minutes / bw / Paramount Famous Lasky Dir: Jean de Limur Pr: Monta Bell Scr: Garrett Fort Story: The Letter (1927 play) by W. Somerset Maugham Cine: George Folsey Cast: Jeanne Eagels, Reginald Owen, Herbert Marshall, Irene Brown (i.e., Irene Browne), O.P. Heggie, Lady Tsen Mei, Tamaki Yoshiwara.

The Letter 1929 - 0

This is the first screen adaptation of Maugham’s famous stage play; it was remade in 1940 as the far better known movie The LETTER, dir William Wyler, with Bette Davis, Herbert Marshall and James Stephenson. (Intriguingly, Marshall played the adulterous lover in the first version, the wronged husband in the second.) Until 2011 the 1929 adaptation was effectively a lost movie, all of it that survived being a nitrate work print (which you can view here); but in that year it was restored and released as part of the Warner Archive Collection. I’ve included a couple of screengrabs from the work print below to give you an idea of the near-miraculous job the restorers have done.

We’re on a Singapore rubber plantation, and a wonderful long approach shot takes us through the plantation to a bungalow room where Leslie Crosbie (Eagels) is sitting doing her lace while husband Robert (Owen) is inspecting one of his rifles. It’s a scene of placid domesticity, one that’s hard to reconcile with the fact that—as we soon discover—Leslie has been having a torrid, longstanding affair. One can imagine why she’s been seeking some excitement where she can, though, because the dreariness of plantation life, and of marriage to Robert, becomes evident as the couple talk:

Robert: “It’s only wives like you can make these godforsaken places bearable, Leslie. Seven years on a rubber plantation, with no company but natives and a lot of dowdy planters’ wives.”
Leslie (wearily): “Yes, Robert. That ought to be a test for the good wife.”

The Letter 1929 - 1 A domestic scene with the Crosbies

A snug domestic scene with Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) and Robert (Reginald Owen) Crosbie.

The Letter 1929 - 2 Leslie

Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) looks up sardonically from her lace — a first hint that she’s not quite the Little Wife that Robert imagines her to be.

The Letter 1929 - 14

Robert decides to pop into town for the night to get his rifle fixed, and Leslie immediately dashes off a billet doux to her lover, Geoffrey Hammond (Marshall), begging him to come to the villa:

“Robert will be away for the night. I absolutely must see you. I shall expect you at eleven. I am desperate and, if you don’t come, I won’t answer for the consequences.”

The Letter 1929 - 3 A domestic scene with Hammond and Li-Ti

 A domestic scene with Hammond (Herbert Marshall) and Li-Ti (Lady Tsen Mei).

The Letter 1929 - 15

Hammond is canoodling with his new live-in mistress, Li-Ti (Mei), when the messenger arrives with the note. He reads the missive, casually lies to Li-Ti about its content, then hotfoots it over to the Crosbie place to try to get it through to Leslie that their affair is finally over. There he lies just as smoothly to Leslie about his relationship with Li-Ti:

Leslie: “Geoffrey, will you swear to me that she is not your mistress?”
Hammond: “Certainly.”
Leslie: “On your honor?”
Hammond: “On my honor.”
Leslie: “It’s a lie!”
Hammond: “All right, then. It’s a lie. In that case, why don’t you let me go?”

In other words, it’s easy for him to swear on his honor because he doesn’t have any. She deals with him appropriately.

The Letter 1929 - 4 Leslie confronts Hammond over his faithlessness

Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) confronts Hammond (Herbert Marshall) about his faithlessness.

The Letter 1929 - 5 The murder

Maddened by jealousy, Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) snatches up a revolver and empties it into the cad.

In court, on trial for the shooting, Leslie tells, at the prompting of her counsel, Howard Joyce (Heggie), a fanciful tale of Hammond having come to the lodge on a pretext and then attempting to rape her. She’d seized the gun and shot him in self-defense. The prosecution shows little interest in pursuing the case and the jury seems sympathetic. Joyce eagerly predicts that she’ll be a free woman in the morning.

The Letter 1929 - 6 Joyce extracts Leslie's testimony in court

In court, her lawyer Howard Joyce (O.P. Heggie) extracts a self-exculpating testimony from Leslie (Jeanne Eagels).

The Letter 1929 - 7 The clerk of the court (uncredited) is visibly skeptical of L's testimony

The clerk of the court (uncredited) is visibly skeptical of — or feasibly turned on by — Leslie’s testimony.

But what neither of them know is that, after reading that letter, Hammond crumpled it up and dropped it on the floor, whence Li-Ti picked it up.

Their ignorance doesn’t last long. Through Joyce’s clerk, Ong Chi Seng (Tamaki), Li-Ti informs Joyce of the letter’s contents and of the price for which, in order to keep Leslie’s guilt from the court, he might purchase it: S$10,000. Tamaki, in his sole movie, gives an admirable rendition of the young Chinese–Malay clerk; if Ong isn’t complicit in the blackmail, it’s quite obvious that he’s (understandably) happy that for once it’s whitey’s turn to get shafted.

The Letter 1929 - 10 Ong tells Joyce about the letter ... and the proposed deal

Ong (Tamaki Yoshiwara) tells Joyce about the existence of the letter . . . and about the proposed deal.

The casual racism of the plantation community has already bubbled to the surface in the tale. Leslie herself has made disparaging racist remarks about Li-Ti; she’s done so in open court, to boot, little realizing that the insulted woman was in the audience. (We can imagine this — rightly — doubled the market value of the letter!)

The Letter 1929 - 8 Li-Ti reacts to L's public description of her as coarse and common

Li-Ti (Lady Tsen Mei) reacts to Leslie’s public description of her as coarse and common.

Joyce, although we can see him sympathizing with Ong’s attitude, is a part of this too, albeit in a more genteel, resigned manner. Here he is informally summarizing a main prop of the case for the defense:

“The fact, which was discovered after his death, that he’d been living with a Chinese woman robbed him of any sympathy for him that might be felt in the minds of all respectable people.”

The Letter 1929 - 9 Robert reassures Leslie that she'll soon be free

Robert (Reginald Owen) reassures Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) that she’ll soon be free.

Li-Ti insists not only on the S$10,000 but that Leslie bring it in person to her. The rendezvous she decrees they use is a seedy dive, ostensibly a café for lowlifes but evidently in effect a brothel. Li-Ti takes pleasure in making Leslie abase herself to the “vile yellow thing like you”—to use her own loathsome phrase—in front of a gaggle of derisive tarts, and even indicates that the Englishwoman might find her services being sold to a Chinese john.

I’m not sure how these sequences might have played to a 1929 audience. Today we can see that the Chinese woman’s vindictiveness is fairly well merited: Leslie has not only murdered Li-Ti’s lover but behaved abominably toward her in public. (The scene in the bordello can be viewed as a sort of mirror of the one in court.) We can also relish the reversal whereby Leslie, who has habitually sneered at the locals as dirty and all the rest of it, is for once getting a dose of her own medicine—discovering what it’s like to be on the receiving end. I suspect that in the widely racist US audiences of 1929, however, there might have been far more sympathy for her plight in the face of Li-Ti’s venom—and far less for her adultery and the ensuing crime passionnel.

The Letter 1929 - 11 Li-Ti hammers it home to Leslie which of them is the one in charge now

Li-Ti (Lady Tsen Mei) hammers it home to Leslie (Jeanne Eagels) which of them is the one in charge now.

The Letter 1929 - 12 The whores mock the humiliated Leslie

The raucous whores mock the humiliated Leslie.

The ending of the 1940 adaptation opts for melodrama—and not just because we have Bette Davis thesping in all directions. Here we have instead a conclusion that’s if anything even more chilling. Husband and wife in effect each condemn the other to a living hell, one that there’s no prospect of either being able to escape. The movie’s final moments thus pack quite a punch; it’s only after the screen has faded to black, though, that you realize quite how heavy that punch has been.

The Letter 1929 - 13 The worm turns

The worm turns: Robert (Reginald Owen) spells things out to Leslie (Jeanne Eagels).

The Letter really belongs to its two female leads, and most especially to its villain, Leslie. This was Eagels’s last movie; a few months after its release she was dead at the age of just 39 from a drugs overdose, the culmination of a years-long defensive war this immensely talented and highly respected stage and screen actress had waged against alcohol and heroin. In a couple of places here there’s a sense that, although clearly she’s in control, there’s a slight muzziness behind the eyes. There are also occasional subtle reminders that her earlier movies were silents: in her rendition of Leslie she veers, sometimes within a matter of seconds, between excellent naturalistic acting and the kind of eye-rolling more typical of life before the talkies. Even so, her performance here earned her the Academy’s attention for a possible Oscar nomination, the first time this had ever been considered posthumously.

The 1929 version of The Letter is a movie worth watching not just because of the fascination of the comparisons between it and the 1940 remake but as a powerful piece in its own right. It’s by no means flawless—for one thing, its division into discrete, rather static scenes betrays its stage origins—but it has a kind of vitality that makes it seem far more immediate, far more present, than many a movie made decades later.

The Letter 1929 - closer



13 thoughts on “Letter, The (1929)

  1. ““The fact, which was discovered after his death, that he’d been living with a Chinese woman robbed him of any sympathy for him that might be felt in the minds of all respectable people.””

    Maugham may have been overstating the racism of the British community: marriage – formal or informal, you might say – with Chinese women wasn’t rare and wasn’t particularly frowned-on in Malaya then. It may have been a different matter with rubber-planters, though.

    • Thanks for the useful bit of historical clarification — I confess it’s not an area I know much about.

      We have to bear in mind that this may not have been Maugham’s line but something added by the screenwriters. I can’t immediately lay hands on a copy of Maugham’s play. I’ve just had a quick look in Gutenberg — which seems to have just about everything else he wrote except this one! — Faded Pages, etc., but without luck. I’ll have another look later, when I’m less pressed for time.

  2. I’ve read wonderful things about Jeanne Eagels performance in this film, but still haven’t seen it. I’m sure I’d like this, however, the Bette Davis version is a fave with me.

    This I loved: “thesping in all directions”. Great stuff!

    • Thanks for dropping by!

      If you like the 1940 version I’m pretty sure you’d like this one as well — I’d say they’re probably each as good as the other.

  3. Great review – been meaning to get that Warner releases for ages (at one point it was supposed to come as an extra when they released the David version). Worth noting that Maugham provided two versions of the ending for the play when it was published (bit like CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF did) and that this production was also remade in several foreign languages more or less at the same time (before dubbing became the norm) – shames self-plug dept: I did a lengthy post on the multiple versions, the play and the story’s real-life origins: https://bloodymurder.wordpress.com/2014/11/16/the-letter-1927-by-somerset-maugham/

    • Many thanks for the very useful info in your comment and more especially in the link! If I may, I’ll add that link into the post.

      I confess I’d forgotten about The UNFAITHFUL (1947), although of course the adaptation there is a fairly loose one.

      • Thanks John. And yes, THE UNFAITHFUL is definitely on the loose side (and uncredited) – Warners tended to remake properties with something like unseemly haste at that time 🙂

    • It can’t of course hold a candle to the 1940

      I’m not so sure. That was my first opinion, but in memory the1929 adaptation is looking better and better, to the point where it at least equals and may even outmatch the 1940 version. I’m very much in two minds about this . . .which I think tends to indicate how good both adaptations were!

  4. Pingback: ‘Where are you hanging out now?’ The #1929book results | Past Offences: Classic crime, thrillers and mystery book reviews

  5. Pingback: Overnight Sensation (1984) | Noirish

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.