100 Movies in 2020: #10, Gaslight

Gaslight isn’t the first psychological thriller. It’s not the best psychological thriller. It’s not even the best version of this story (the original British version is supposed to be much creepier). But it’s famous, it’s got Ingrid Bergman, and it’s definitely worth two of your hours.

• Release: 1944
• Starring: Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer, Joseph Cotten, Angela Lansbury
• Directed by: George Cukor
• Screenplay: John Van Druten, Walter Reisch, John Balderston
• Spoilers? Uh-huh.

This film (and the play by Patrick Hamilton on which it’s based) is of course the origin of the term “gaslighting,” a form of mental abuse in which the perpetrator lies baldly and remorselessly in order to cause the victim to question his or her own reality.

Synopsis

Paula (Ingrid Bergman) is a young classical singer haunted by the murder of her aunt Alice Alquist, also a famous classical singer. Paula quits her voice training because she doesn’t have the heart for it; she’s absorbed by a whirlwind romance with Gregory (Charles Boyer). It’s so intense she wants a break, and runs off to Italy to think things through. Guess who meets her at the station? We know right away this guy is trouble, so the suspense begins by prompting the question, Will Paula get wise before it’s too late?

They discuss marriage. Paula wants to live in Paris, but Gregory longs to live in a townhouse on a London square. Guess who happens to own such a property? Paula resists returning home, the site of her aunt’s murder, but she decides to give Gregory his dream. Nice of her.

Plot escalation

Upon return to London, Gregory isolates Paula, first playing on her romanticism (“No visitors, dear–let’s continue our honeymoon”), then gradually by insisting to callers and the household staff madame is too ill to receive guests. Denied the critical sanity check provided by outside voices, Paula lives increasingly in her own mind and in the version of the truth Gregory gives her.

Gregory escalates the mental abuse by insisting she’s forgetful. First, he’s all kindness, blaming her alleged lapses on fatigue. He gives her a brooch, a treasured family piece, but places it in her purse because the catch is too fragile to be worn just now. (Why not leave it at home, then? she might ask, but then the story would be over.) The couple visits the Tower of London, where they see a man who seems to know them. Gregory suggests he’s a former beau of hers; Paula says she’s never seen him. They visit the crown jewels, which Gregory ogles. Paula can’t find the brooch. Now she’s got guilt as well as apparent proof of her absentmindedness.

Gregory goes out every night, apparently to his studio to compose music, leaving Paula at home in the house she fears. She hears footsteps in the boarded-up attic; the gas house lights dim and brighten for no clear reason. Since these noises and lighting malfunctions never occur when Gregory’s home, obviously it’s all in Paula’s imagination.

Critical counterweight

The mystery guy at the Tower turns out to be a young Scotland Yard detective, Brian Cameron (Joseph Cotten), who was also a childhood fan of Alice Alquist. He considers the unsolved case and discovers that crown jewels of another country were (oddly) given to Ms. Alquist “by someone very highly placed,” and were the reason for the murder. The jewels were never recovered.

One night after Gregory’s gone out composing, Brian Cameron barges past the housekeeper and insists on seeing Paula. He convinces her she’s not going insane, and in fact she’s in great danger. Gregory comes home, conflict ensues. In an exciting climax, Paula confronts Gregory and he tries to manipulate her again. For a moment, we wonder if she’ll succumb to her “madness” and kill him, or whether she’ll relent, free Gregory, and be killed herself. In the confrontation, she finds the “lost” brooch squirreled away in the attic. Gregory’s taken into custody, and Paula’s mental health is restored.

What works?

The concept of turning a character’s mind against her remains incredibly compelling, no matter how many years have passed since the idea was invented. If the character doesn’t have a grasp on what the truth is, there’s no end to the ways she can be manipulated. It’s critical, though, that the audience retains a connection to the truth (in the film, that’s anchored by Brian Cameron). Without this anchor, the audience begins to doubt the truth themselves. Of course, the unreliable narrator is another staple of the genre, so if that’s the angle you want to take in a story, just withhold the truth’s vector from the audience for as long as possible.

Fiction writing lesson from Gaslight

Either gaslighting or use of an unreliable narrator offers a compelling angle for a psychological thriller. If you use gaslighting as a technique, give the audience an anchor to the truth early on. Keeping the audience clear on who’s telling the truth helps them to know who to root for.