Gaslight

They say a film is as good as the villain, but sometimes, the villain might be too good for the film's own good. I don't think I've been as distraught and upset by a villain as I was by the manipulative expert Gregory Anton in George Cukor's "Gaslight", the most famous and best adaptation of Patrick Hamilton's play.

Indeed, enduring the psychological torture he applied to his love-seeking wife Paula, played by an emotionally versatile Ingrid Bergman, was such an infuriating experience that I left almost one decade between the first and the second viewing, and I literally tiptoed to the DVD to force myself to refresh my memory. After the first fifteen minutes, just when I thought I could stand it, I realized that any horror movie would have been more supportable... or am I overreacting?

I think there must have been some strong reaction toward that novelty of a plot where a person drove another one insane through mental manipulation to the point that "gas light" became part of common language... that's how impactful it was. Not many movies deal with that particular device, but this is how "Gaslight" was revolutionary and sophisticated in a twisted way, suiting the emerging noir genre.

The "gas light" effect referring to the dimming of the light that made Paula believe she was going crazy isn't effective on a narrative level because it's driven by a fact but rather by the seeds of doubt it sows on her mind. We know for a fact that a woman is being manipulated but only suspicion can heal her from her husband's cruel dominance.But she can't suspect him because she loves him in a way that echoes Stockholm Syndrome and he's a Machiavellian gourmet who knows exactly the amount of cruelty and suavity to apply.

Charles Boyer's with all these cunning eyes, that mouth always wary about not letting a word slip, and his faux-affable "French lover" manners, elevate his characters to summits of vileness and gaining extra altitude by a symmetric effect with Ingrid Bergman who brings an extraordinary level of pathos while maintaining a strange aura of dignity. This is a woman whose heart and mind are slowly shred to pieces but she's resigned to believe any word of her beloved husband because she can envision anything except such capability of vileness.

Why would the gaslight dim every night? Why would she hear noises the servant doesn't notice and why would Gregory be wrong if the second maid wasn't so arrogant and defiant? Even Angela Lansbury in her screen debut is perfect in the role of Nancy, the street smart and slightly slutty maid whose deadpan and snarky attitude is more affecting than any hint of false empathy or true detachment. This is a free-spirited woman yet manipulated by the way Gregory exploits every element of the environment and every possible situation. So what we have is a conspiracy perfectly oiled where Cukor makes us witness the action while making us as powerless as Paula. We're like passive observers bound and gagged and undergoing the villain's sadism. In a way, if we consider anger as a brief madness, we're also being "gaslighted" by Cukor.

The mark of great films is to elicit strong responses; and watching "Gaslight" a second time reminded me of something I meant as a compliment after my initial viewing, I thought it was the most Hitchcockian non-Hitchcock film... and the presence of Dame May Whitty or Joseph Cotten play like interesting nods to "The Lady Vanishes" and "Shadow of a Doubt". In"Vanishes", the main protagonist was toyed with her own certitudes and lured into doubting her own sanity and "Shadow" is about a villain who's a close parent. "Gaslight" makes these two plot points converge beautifully but there is another Hitchcock classic it bears a kinship with: "Suspicion".

And I think I can now be more explicit about what bothered me with "Suspicion" and that makes "Gaslight" a superior movie. In "Suspicion", the husband's guilt was the central theme but worked as a double edged word, if he was guilty, then he left too many hints to be a believable villain, if he wasn't, it was anticlimactic. In "Gaslight", we know the villain from the start and we know he's good at hiding his vileness (the essence of 'gaslighting') and the frustration doesn't come from the act but the lack of suspicion, the point is the psychological struggle within a woman whose passion blinds her mind and endangers it, a woman who trades her self-esteem for the sake of the most harmful person she could ever meet.

"Gaslight" foreshadowed, no pun intended, the way film noir would dominate post-war cinema, at a time where many people were blinded by patriotism and driven to real madness by leaders who had contempt for them. "Gaslight" is also a marvel of film noir in its use of the nightmarish fog of London Victorian streets used as the perfect camouflage for a Jekyll/Hyde villain, and where d the walls of respectability of an ordinary house, hid the claustrophobic nightmare of a woman lost among so many useless items and trophies, being the most precious one of all... or the most disposable.

Boyer, Lansbury were all Oscar-nominated, but it was Bergman who won the first of her three Oscars and deservedly so. In what could have been a one-note performance she explores every possible shade of fragility, doubt and panic, disbelief and resignation, whiplash moods orchestrated by her evil husband until her shining moment at the end, perhaps one of the most satisfying cinematic rants, when the whole scheme of Gregory backfires in the most delightful way.

But I still wonder why he wasn't listed in AFI's Top 50 villains, the film made the "thrills" list but hey, who made the thrills?

Not being a big fan of older movies myself (for some reason I really don't know) I decided to go out on a recommendation and rent "Gaslight." And I must be honest, I was impressed.

When Paula was younger, her aunt with whom lived with in Thornton Square in London was murdered by a strangler roaming the streets. Paula goes to stay in Italy, and some time later, meets Gregory. She and Gregory plan to marry, and after they do, they move to London, back to the exact house Paula lived in.

Not too long after, Paula starts to become "forgettful," as Gregory tells her. In fact, he tells her a lot of things...and she believes him. Then things she knows she had put somewhere or remembered doing seem nonexistent, and Paula is left to wonder if her sanity is in check. Then, many times, she starts hearing footsteps, and the gaslights are going down a lot. Is Paula going crazy, or is she being haunted by her dead aunt's spirit...or is it something far more sinister?

I liked this movie a lot. Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyet were amazing. Bergman portrays her character's emotions to the point that you feel the same way she does. And Boyet is pure evil in this one. Many times watching this, I was thinking, "He is so terrible to her!" It was so psychological, how everything eveloped. The best scene in the whole movie took place at the reception, when Gregory tells Paula he lost his watch, and then finds it in her purse. Then she bursts into tears, and it was so absolutely amazing how the scene was pulled off. In fact, it was so subtle it was scary. You wouldn't expect a missing watch found in her purse to be such a big deal, but it is such a strong scene.

The one thing I didn't like about this otherwise nearly flawless movie was the climax. It was just too dull to me, and the only part I really liked was Paula's wicked sarcasm towards Gregory while they're in the attic. She truly did deserve the Best Actress Oscar for her acting, but nothing could mask the fact that the climax was just too weak. If it had a bit of a touchup, this movie would be perfect.

All in all, I recommend this without hesitation. It is absolutely amazing, and I could watch it again and still enjoy it, and that is quite rare for me. So, I recommend you find this wherever you can and give it a chance. It's a classic.

They don't make them like they used to is a lazy thing to say, but they really don't. There's a wonderful tangible and hypnotic innocence to early cinema that we've lost... or progressed from depending how you look at it, but it's great to be able to relive films like this. Paula (Ingrid Bergman) hasn't had a happy start in life, her aunt murdered in her foggy london home. Escaping to Italy she meets and falls for Gregory (Charles Boyer). It's an affluent life, palatial hotels on Lake Como. Were lives of the poor depicted often in 40s cinema? I don't think so, I guess it was a medium purely of escape. Anyway, Gregory fancies settling in London and Paula still owns her aunts house at 9 Thornton Square an address that haunts her, but she puts that aside for Gregory's wishes. I must admit I'm captivated by old London. Cobble streets, horse drawn carriages and of course gaslights. The house is stunning and thanks to the eerie score, quite spooky. Unchanged since that fateful night of the unsolved murder... and full of clues. I don't trust dear Gregory and I'm not sure about Nancy (Angela Lansbury) the new maid either. The sneaky sod is playing mind games, undermining poor Paula, trying to convince her she's losing it. He's a gold digger. Not like Brian (Joseph Cotten) and Miss Thwaites (May Whitty), both who bring much needed warmth. Brian works at Scotland Yard and smells a rat... and a jewel thief, every murder needs a motive. The elderly Miss Thwaites, well she loves a good story and is fascinated by the things that happened at number 9. And might well she be, there's a lot going on in it's walls. Largely down to poor Paula rarely leaving them, slowly being pushed into the role of reclusive madness, by an increasingly manipulative Gregory. It's partly frustrating knowing that Paula is being bullied and unsettling to modern eyes. Yet it's captivating as we expect repercussion, relief, truth and justice. The gaslit house with its shadows and aunties old memorabilia locked up in its top floor, brings an odd supernatural sense to proceedings, but we know what's really going on and Brian is onto something too. Bergman is fantastic in her increasing frailty. Boyer in his domineering menace. Lansbury in with her east end flirting and Cotten as the hero detective. It's a lovely slow burner with fantastic finale.

The first scene establishes the dreary tone of the film. It is nighttime in London and a murder goes unsolved. The magnificent Ingrid Bergman portrays Paula, the niece of the deceased woman. After living ten years trying to forget the past, Paula returns to her house in London at the suggestion of her new husband, Gregory (Charles Boyer). "I've found peace in loving you," Paula says and decides with the help of her husband, she is ready to face the past. Fear is an essential element in the story. It seems the police cannot find a motive for the murder but when a new young assistant comes to Scotland Yard, he sees something that others did not notice or would not pursue. The murderer remains at large and his next potential victim has returned to the very house where the first murder was committed.

The cast's flawless talent makes the film absolutely unforgettable. Charles Boyer is exceedingly ominous as Paula's obsessive husband. As the high-strung wife, Ingrid Bergman gives an outstanding performance. She is startling and brilliant. Brian Cameron, played by Joseph Cotton, makes his appearance later in the film but is wonderful nonetheless. Watch for the emphasis on foreshadowing and the beautiful lighting achieved in Gaslight, as well as the particular attention to the many details that make it spectacular. George Cukor's fantastic direction of this intriguing and suspicious tale will keep you on the edge of your seat.

"Gaslight" (1944) was in its time first a play by Patrick Hamilton and next a psychological thriller of great influence. Since the work was directed by George Cukor, one expects fine performances, and the film delivers several of these; it is in fact unusually well-done in many respects in my judgment. The screenplay by John Van Druten, Walter Reisch and John Balderston has also been widely admired for retaining the theatrical tension of the original work. As produced by Arthur Hornblow Jr., this intelligent but somewhat unsettling drama features understated music by Bronislau Kaper, the fine cinematography of Joseph Ruttenberg, art direction by the great Cedric Gibbons, unusually good set decorations by Edwin B. Willis and costumes design by Irene (Sharaff). But because of the understatement of its scenes, the lack of large scenes of action and image, and the sheer amount of its meaningful dialog, it is an actor's film. The minor players such as Dame May Witty as the heroine's neighbor, Tom Stevenson as Wlliams the policeman, Angela Lansbury as the saucy aid, Barbar Everest as the faithful maid Elizabeth, Emil Rmeau as the maestro, Heather Thatcher as Lady Dalroy, Halliwell Hobbes and Edmund Breon and Lawrence Grossman range in ability from good to exceptional. As the policeman who discerns what is going on that troubles the heroine, played by Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotten is dashing, attractive and acceptable as both potential lover and man of action. Charles Boyer has in this film a thankless role, that of a devouring immoralist who has only two possible moods-- brief burst of anger needing to be controlled and an exuded charm that must be slightly overdone at times. These moods he plays very professionally at all points, his timing being not the least of his accomplishments during the film. In the difficult role of a Victorian young woman of intelligence, honesty and vulnerability, Oscar winner Ingrid Bergman earns the award by sustaining a sunny and intelligent personality undergoing a series of slowly-revealed and subtle attacks from her husband, who is trying to convince her she is incapable of independent function. Everything in the film--lighting, use of flights of stairs, objects, blocking, gestures, observers, character and dialog contribute to the overall effect. Even the title, referring to the mysterious changes in the lighting of the house Bergman and Boyer inhabit has meaning here. The film is not a sunny one; but the suspense is in my opinion rather admirably sustained. In tribute to its quality as a drama, I can only say that in the more than six decades since the film was created, no imitation of its male to female menace has come close to achieving anything really approaching its sterling qualities. To have ushered in a sub-genre--the Victorian menaced-female type, and set so high a mark is no small feat. The mystery's solid construction and simplicity of design certainly play a part in the building of its sustained fascination.