Gaslight

While it would come to be overshadowed by George Cukor’s arguably superior Hollywood adaptation of the Patrick Hamilton play five years later, Thorold Dickinson’s Gaslight is an outstanding film despite involving a cast and crew virtually unknown in noir (and in cinema broadly). The story by now is familiar even to people who have no knowledge of film noir: a cad marries a beautiful young heiress and tries to convince her she’s crazy while he searches the house for hidden jewels belonging to her deceased aunt. While Charles Boyer’s caddish performance in Cukor’s version was extraordinarily memorable, a case could be made that Anton Walbrook’s Paul Mallen is crueler, more sinister, and more psychotic than the latter interpretation (relatively unknown to American audiences, Walbrook also starred as The Rat three years earlier). As for the female lead, any comparison to Ingrid Bergman’s mesmerizing performance as Paula would be unfair; still, Diana Wynyard does just fine as the victimized heiress, her face simultaneously expressing hopelessness and anger as Mallen’s emotional abuse worsens, particularly as he sneaks glances (and more) with the shameless young maid Nancy (Cathleen Cordell). Compared to the Hollywood version, Dickinson’s film heightens the male psychosis and female neurosis, which gives it greater conflict even while assuming a more subtle (dare we say, British) tone. It’s an excellent film which deserves to be appreciated on its own merits.