Just a lot of f*cking fun.

Everyone loves a good swear, don’t they? I mean, come on. Why wouldn’t you?

Quite honestly, no matter how grownup and mature you think you are, there are few more cathartic things in this world than a good, old-fashioned cuss.

Profanity can be liberating, it can be cleansing, it can - for the lack of a better term - cut through the bullshit. It can shock, it can inflame, it can also be the perfect conduit for ideas, themes, and concepts that may otherwise struggle to be heard.

Odd though it may sound, whether it’s class, creed, race, or gender; profanity can help us wrestle with issues that would otherwise be beyond conventional (cleaner) language. The delivery method may be blunt, it may be crude, however, a choice swear word delivered at the right time and in the right tone can engage just as much as it can enrage - something that Wicked Little Letters is all too aware of.

In a sleepy 1920s English seaside town, two neighbours - deeply conservative local Edith Swan (Olivia Colman) and rowdy Irish widow Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley) - are drawn into a dark and obscure scandal. When Edith and fellow residents begin to receive distressing letters full of unintentionally hilarious profanity, foul-mouthed Rose is immediately charged with the crime. With the anonymous letters prompting a national uproar, a trial ensues, yet, as the town’s women - led by Police Officer Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan) - begin to investigate the crime, they suspect Rose may not be the culprit after all.

Lowest common denominator comedy though it may seem, the utilisation of vulgar language in Wicked Little Letters is far more than mere low hanging humour. As the film’s central mystery unravels, the composition of profanity-laden letters against the backdrop of otherwise idyllic village life manages to hit on something unexpectedly profound and surprisingly potent, despite its whimsical, decidedly light-hearted exterior.

Centring on two women - Jessie Buckley’s bolshy immigrant Rose and Olivia Colman’s buttoned-down Edith - the film does a smart job of probing the root cause of these mysterious obscene letters while examining just how they’re able to contort and expose society’s prejudices. Both Buckley and Colman’s characters appear to be comically heightened one-dimensional caricatures, yet the further into things we go, the more layers and nuances reveal themselves, forcing us to continually reassess our preconceptions.

Through the impeccable comic delivery of both Colman and Buckley, Wicked Little Letters offers a very traditional form of boisterous British humour, however, with a dark, surprisingly profound edge, it all hits a little deeper than initial appearances may suggest. Sure, as director Thea Sharrock struggles to get the blend of humour and thematic heft right, there are times when the balance of these conflicting styles feels a little out of whack. That said, when it works, it works.

Playing with our preconceptions of what an English period piece is and what it should do, Sharrock does a wonderful job of laying out all the trappings and iconography of a traditional costume drama - before proceeding to set fire to it all. Despite quaint appearances, Wicked Little Letters intersects with notions of gender and class in a thoroughly modern way, and while the use of contemporary language and attitudes won’t be to everyone’s taste, it’s an undeniably impactful, highly effective way to engage with otherwise challenging topics.

The results are a little mixed at times as the film occasionally feels like it’s holding something back, however, with an effortlessly charming script full of snappy wit and surprising depth, there’s an awful lot there to appreciate. With a solid comedy writing career in his back pocket, Jonny Sweet’s script is an immensely enjoyable one that, despite wobbles navigating the plot’s central mystery, frequently delivers with its dynamite dialogue.

Make no mistake, with a film like Wicked Little Letters that’s so intrinsically reliant on the strength of its dialogue to carry it, the script must land, which, despite the odd bump along the way, it does. With such remarkably inventive language at its disposal, Wicked Little Letters’ script pops with an infectious cheek and a striking self-confidence that’s helped along immensely by those tasked to deliver it.

As the two biggest proponents of the script, Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley approach the potentially perilous dialogue with just as much vitality and vigorous glee as you’d hope. Whether it’s their impeccable chemistry with one another or the part they play within the wider ensemble, the two stars give everything they’ve got to the script, elevating it to the next level in the process.

The success of any film like this will always lie in the chemistry of its stars, not only with one another but with the material itself and, on both counts, Wicked Little Letters must be considered a success. Whether it’s Buckley’s bulldozer approach or Colman’s more conservative tactic, both leads attack the material with all they’ve got, and the result is an absolute feast of foulmouthed frivolity.

Around them, the ensemble of familiar British comedy faces are a real treat and, much like the film’s stars, take to the idiosyncratic material remarkably well. Of these familiar faces, Timothy Spall is suitably despicable and genuinely terrifying throughout, while Anjana Vasan, despite not being as prominantly featured as she could’ve been, is an absolute delight, taking the straight woman approach she deployed so well in We Are Lady Parts and positively running with it.

As a cast, they are a thoroughly affable bunch and make for a film that, despite a few stumbles along the way, proves to be nothing less than a delight. Sure, the plot is rather hokey at times and eventually falls into an easily predictable pattern, yet the smoothness of the writing, the nippiness of the pacing, and the effortless appeal of its stars make Wicked Little Letters a bold and badly behaved blast.

Bold, brazen, and stuffed full of affably irreverent humour, despite its quaint appearance, Wicked Little Letters is a tonne of fowl-mouthed fun. A lovable little whodunit charmer with an undeniable dark edge, Wicked Little Letters makes the most of the inherent absurdities of its setup and the sweary talents of its stars to offer an infinitely enjoyable and oddly charming cocktail of crime, social commentary, and cathartically course language.

Wicked Little Letters is in cinemas now.