‘I’ve been noticing, Paula, that you’ve been forgetful lately. Losing things…Now don’t be so worried, Paula. It’s nothing. You get tired.’
Gregory Anton, ‘Gaslight’

I recently watched the 1944 version of ‘Gaslight’, a psychological thriller set in Edwardian London, adapted from Patrick Hamilton's 1938 stage play of the same name.

This fine film, directed by George Cukor and starring Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer and Joseph Cotton, tells the story of a woman whose husband slowly manipulates her into believing that she is going insane. It gave birth to the term often applied to psychological abuse: ‘gaslighting.’

Paula Alquist (Bergman) has been raised by her aunt in a large house on Thornton Square. When the aunt is mysteriously murdered, Paula is sent to Italy to study music. There she meets and marries accompanist Gregory Anton (Boyer).

Despite Paula’s understandable qualms, Gregory insists that the newlyweds take up residence in the long-vacant townhouse on Thornton Square.

‘It’s all dead in here. The whole place smells of death.’

Paula’s return to London is unsettling. The old house is cluttered with her aunt’s possessions; with heavy curtains, elaborate ornaments and antique furniture – and all covered in dustsheets. Gregory resolves to clear everything away into the attic. He also determines that Paula is not well enough to go out and gives the servants strict instructions not to admit visitors.

Now that they are established in their new home, Gregory becomes increasingly cold and brusque. In a brief moment of intimacy, he gives Paula a broach that had belonged to his mother and her mother before that. He puts it in Paula’s handbag for safe-keeping as they set off on a rare trip out to visit the Tower of London. However, on their return, the broach is gone.

Paula: I know it was here. I can't understand it. I couldn't have lost it. It must be here…
Gregory: Oh Paula, didn't I tell you? How did you come to lose it?
Paula: I must have pulled it out with something, I suppose. Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Gregory, please forgive me…
Gregory: ‘Forgive’ my dear. It’s not as serious as that. It’s not valuable.
Paula: But your present to me, your mother's broach. And I wanted to wear it - always. I don't remember opening my bag, but I suppose I must have. You did put it in there?
Gregory: Don’t you even remember that?
Paula: Yes. Yes, of course I do. Suddenly, I'm beginning not to trust my memory at all.

The relationship that had initially seemed passionate and romantic starts to fray. Gregory reveals himself to be quick-tempered and controlling. He begins flirting with the new maidservant in front of his wife.

Nonetheless, Paula is delighted when Gregory offers to take her to the theatre. But just as they’re about to set off, his mood darkens.

Gregory: Paula, I don’t want to upset you. If you will put things right when I’m not looking, we’ll assume it did not happen.
Paula: But what, Gregory, what? Oh, please don’t turn your back on me. What has happened?

A small painting has been taken from the wall, leaving an incriminating shadow on the wallpaper where it once hung.

Gregory: Will you please get it from wherever you've hidden it and put it back in its place?
Paula: But I haven’t hidden it. I swear I haven’t. Why should I?… Don’t look at me like that. Someone else must have done it.

Gregory insists on interrogating the servants about the picture in front of the embarrassed Paula. At length, when he sends her upstairs to look for the missing item, she locates it behind a grandfather clock.

Gregory: So you knew where it was all the time.
Paula: No. I didn’t know. I only looked there because that's where it was found twice before. I didn't know, Gregory, I didn't know.
Gregory: Now, Paula, I think you'd better go to your room.
Paula: We’re not going to the theatre?
Gregory: Oh, my dear, I’m afraid you are far from well enough for the theatre. Now come...

After the argument Gregory leaves the house to work in his nearby studio and Paula retreats in tears to her bedroom. But even here there is no respite. The gaslights dim mysteriously and she hears muffled footsteps coming from the attic above.

Accused of theft and lies, distrusting her memory, feeling isolated and alone, treated like an invalid, unsettled by her husband’s flirting, assaulted by strange sounds in the night, Paula begins to doubt her sanity.

Events come to a head when Paula escapes the house to attend a music recital. Gregory insists on accompanying her. As the pianist holds the audience in thrall, Gregory quietly reveals to his wife that his watch is missing from its chain. When he locates it in her bag, she lets out a shriek of dismay. Gregory takes her home.

Gregory: I've tried so hard to keep it within these walls - in my own house. Now, because you would go out tonight, the whole of London knows it. If I could only get inside that brain of yours and understand what makes you do these crazy, twisted things.
Paula: Gregory, are you trying to tell me I'm insane?
Gregory: It's what I'm trying not to tell myself.
Paula: But that's what you think, isn't it? That's what you've been hinting and suggesting for months now, ever since…since the day I lost your broach. That's when it all began.

Gregory now reveals to Paula that her mother was insane and died in an asylum. It’s all gone too far. He has asked two doctors to visit in the morning.

Thankfully Scotland Yard detective Brian Cameron (Cotton) is on the case. He has been curious about the unsolved murder of Paula’s aunt and suspicious of Gregory’s behaviour since the couple’s arrival in town. He intervenes in the nick of time.

It transpires that Gregory is in fact the murderer of Paula’s aunt. Plotting to get his hands on the deceased woman’s jewels, he tracked Paula down in Italy. He has been secretly searching through the aunt’s belongings in the attic to locate the missing gems. The flickering gaslights were caused by his turning on the attic lamps, thereby reducing the gas supply to the rest of the house. What’s more, Gregory has been scheming to have his wife institutionalized, so that he can continue his search unhindered.

The detective explains all to Paula.

‘You're not going out of your mind. You're slowly and systematically being driven out of your mind.’

‘Gaslight’ is a case study in psychological abuse. We may note the many ways in which the evil Gregory goes about his task. He prompts Paula to question her memory and presents her with evidence of her kleptomania. He suggests she is tired and unwell; highly-strung and hysterical. He deprives her of social contact and embarrasses her in front of others. He feigns concern for her wellbeing and treats her like an infant. Even his frequent use of her first name diminishes her.

Of course, we now recognise these as the tactics employed in abusive relationships.

I found myself wondering whether modern businesses could also be accused of psychological manipulation.

Traditionally brands have demonstrated gaslighting traits in the healthcare, beauty and cleaning sectors. Can you pinch an inch? Are you beach body ready? Do you check under the rim? Why do you read so slowly? I suspect that, even in 2020, some brands and influencers are still gaslighting their customers. The endless repetition and gentle insistence. Subtly suggesting, quietly quizzing. Preying on fears and insecurities. Condescending and controlling. Prompting people to doubt their own judgement. Treating them like children.

Consumers deserve better than this. At its best persuasion is consenting, enjoyable, useful. It is a conversation, a dialogue, an exchange. At its worst persuasion is cynical, manipulative, exploitative. We should all be mindful of this distinction.

At the climax of ‘Gaslight’ Paula finds herself alone in the attic with her now arrested and bound husband. He pleads with her to recall the good times together; to pick up a knife and set him free. At first she seems still to be under his spell. But then she sets down the knife.

'If I were not mad, I could have helped you. Whatever you had done, I could have pitied and protected you. But because I am mad, I hate you. Because I am mad, I have betrayed you. And because I'm mad, I'm rejoicing in my heart, without a shred of pity, without a shred of regret, watching you go with glory in my heart!'

'Every time I get the inspiration
To go change things around,
No one wants to help me look for places
Where new things might be found.
Where can I turn when my fair weather friends cop out?
What's it all about?
Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good goin' for myself.
But what goes wrong?
Sometimes I feel very sad.
I guess I just wasn't made for these times.’

The Beach Boys, 'I Just Wasn't Made For These Times’ (B Wilson / T Asher)

No. 308