Who doesn’t love cozying up to a hearty British miniseries or prestige film adapted from a celebrated novel? A gauziness to these relaxes the soul for many and causes instant drowsiness for others. I, for one, go through phases where I want to devour a decade’s worth of Dickens produced for the BBC or spend a month of lazy Sundays being a Merchant Ivory devotee. To counter that, I may fire up my BritBox subscription and slice through back seasons of Poirot, Marple, or any of the countless other mysteries available at the press of a button. What can be harder to find are the laughs amidst the decadence.

When you look over the films produced for British cinema, there’s always been a bit of a standoff between the prim and proper and the gleefully ribald. The refined comedies of years past have given way to bolder entries in the current era. Still, when your country is known for its staid decorum, getting a leg up on your competition in the wildly comedic department is an uphill battle. Unless you are the Monty Pythoners, Steve Coogan, Ricky Gervais, or Simon Pegg, you’ve got your work cut out for you.

Well, step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and prepare to be scandalized and amused in equal measure with Wicked Little Letters! Inspired by a real-life scandal that rocked 1920s England, this black comedy from director Thea Sharrock (Me Before You) and penned by the irreverently witty Jonny Sweet is a boisterous romp through the buttoned-up world of propriety, where the arrival of a series of obscene missives sets off a chain reaction of pandemonium and amusement.

This deliciously naughty tale centers on neighbors Edith Swan (Olivia Colman, Wonka) and Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley, Wild Rose), residents of the picturesque town of Littlehampton, England, in the 1920s. When lewd letters begin to circulate, suspicion immediately falls upon single mother Rose, who has had a falling out with devoutly Christian Edith. When the film opens, the unmarried Edith receives her 19th letter at the home she shares with her father (Timothy Spall, Mr. Turner, mean as a snake here) and mother Victoria (Gemma Jones, Rocketman).

As the scandalous letters escalate, so do the stakes, with Rose being arrested on suspicion of holding the poison pen and risking not only her freedom but also custody of her daughter. However, a gaggle of gossiping neighbors (led by Dame Eileen Atkins and Joanna Scanlan) and determined policewoman PC Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan, Cyrano) aren’t convinced the Irish Rose is the culprit and set out to discover the true author. Unraveling the perplexing mystery of the mischievous missives won’t be as easy as they think because the author is just getting started.

It may seem sensationalized, but Wicked Little Letters is inspired by a true scandal that had England all aflutter, and Sweet’s script stays close to the facts of the case. Specific details have been tweaked to make way for more modern casting (allowing us to watch the superb Vasan in action) and allow for actors Colman and Buckley to have a bit more fun with their roles (and use their accents!), and which keeps the film’s air light and brisk. Sweet’s script may have a terrifically bawdy sensibility, but it neatly balances its more comedic elements with a sincere exploration of the consequences of idle gossip and cruel deception.

While Colman and Buckley (who played older and younger versions of the same character in 2021’s The Lost Daughter) make the rivalry and foul-mouthed shenanigans seem like old hat (and to be clear, both women are very good), it’s the ensemble cast that makes Wicked Little Letters so enjoyable.  Stealing scenes as an intrepid policewoman leading a merry band of village women on a mission to crack the case open even though her male counterparts would like her silenced, Vasnan is no-nonsense but with a winning heart. BAFTA winner Scanlan (Bridget Jones’s Baby) is a stand-out riot as a grubby neighbor assisting Vasnan in her quest for the truth, but Aitkins (Magic in the Moonlight) and Lolly Adefope (Saltburn) are no slouches either as they complete the sleuthin’ troupe.

The impeccable recreation of the period details quickly put us right into this handsome hamlet, and Sharrock’s unobtrusive direction allows the focus to shift in the latter half to themes of society hypocrisy (why are the profoundly religious so dang judgmental?), gender dynamics, and the prevailing power of female solidarity.  The biting tone of Sweet’s script (and its howlingly funny foul-mouthed turns of phrase) gives the film a personality that supports it even when it drifts into workmanlike territory in the final act.

If you’re in the mood for an outrageously good time, one that on the surface looks like another quaint addition to the British comedy canon, rip open Wicked Little Letters. The puns are frequent, the performances are stellar, and its uproarious fun is punctuated with poignant irreverence. British humor has always been mischievous, but now we know how naughty it can be, too.