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Bette Davis stars as a woman charged with murder. She claims it was self defense, but opposing counsel discovers a letter that threatens her verdict — a letter she wrote to the deceased on the day she shot him… four times. The Letter is directed by William Wyler and based on a play by W. Somerset Maugham. Wyler and cinematographer Tony Gaudio do their best to break the material from its stagey roots, and succeed for the most part — particularly at the beginning and the end, with elaborate tracking shots and beautiful use of moonlight poking in and out from the cloudy sky.

But The Letter is dry. No one is likeable or empathetic. I don’t always need that in a movie, but there’s no greater moral or message to hang onto here. You know very early on that Davis’ character is lying about her innocence, so I never cared for her. Her husband (Herbert Marshall) is too naive and one-dimensional to invest in. Only her lawyer (James Stephenson) is given much with which we can identify — a thin moral quandary when he discovers his client is indeed guilty. Gale Sondergaard gives a creepy, mute performance as the widow of the deceased. She’s by far the most interesting character, even though she’s made up to look Eurasian.

The ending of the movie gives some visceral oomph, even if it feels like a narrative after-thought. It was a scene imposed by the Hays Code to make sure Davis’ character paid the price for her bad behavior.

Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Actress (Bette Davis), Best Supporting Actor (James Stephenson), Best Director, Best Black & White Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Score (Max Steiner)