As the Gaslight Flickers

Unexplained noises in the attic. Gaslights that flicker for no apparent reason. Items that disappear from their accustomed places. Add a deceptive husband with a deadly secret, a wife who thinks she is losing her mind, a maid with an attitude, and a determined Scotland Yard detective. There you have the makings of a superb 1944 black and white thriller, Gaslight, starring Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotton, and Angela Lansbury.

Tension runs throughout the film like an undercurrent of electricity, keeping the viewer on the edge of her seat (or in my case last night, the sofa). So, what makes this movie, filmed seventy-one years ago, so intriguing? Not nudity; there is none. Not profanity; I heard nary a single off-color or blasphemous word. Not torrid bedroom scenes; they were missing. There were no techno-hijinks either. The setting was London with fog drifting in and around buildings. You know what made it nail bitingly fascinating? The plot was good but the main attraction was the actors. They became the characters they portrayed. They drew me in and had me hooked. I had to see how it ended. Would the wife realize she was actually sane? Would she see the truth in time?  Would her topsy-turvy world ever come around right or would evil win?

In books, movies, real life–it’s the people who matter. Many of us are history buffs. What do we remember most about the shaping of our country, the heroism or betrayals or devastating conflicts? It’s the people, their courage, their convictions, their actions and words. And what matters in real life as we face our own conflicts and problems and worries? It’s our families, our friends, those we trust or count on or follow, our faith. At times, people can disappoint us. At times, we disappoint ourselves. We have to believe in the supremacy of God and hold onto the things that matter, never losing sight of the hope that in the end, all will come round right again.

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