Critic Reviews

Direction by George Cukor is ever a display of fine craftsmanship. He utilizes small mosaics of sharp characterization in building to his climax and works in each facet faultlessly. This is the job for which Cukor admirers have been waiting.

Somewhat illogical but full of terrifyingly sustained sado-masochistic emotion. [05 Dec 1997, p.L]

It’s canny, gothic fun, helped along by Lansbury (in her film debut) as a tarty maid who delights in overstepping boundaries.

What keeps "Gaslight" burning is its tantalizing aura of mystery. [10 Feb 1994, p.5]

There's an Oscar-winning performance from Ingrid Bergman, who is driven slowly mad by her husband (Charles Boyer at his smoothest), who's after her dead aunt's jewels. Joseph Cotten plays the urbane detective who smells a rat; Angela Lansbury is excellent as an insolent maid. [06 Jun 2020, p.20]

This pseudo-Victorian thriller is rather more enjoyable than one might expect, and Bergman is, intermittently, genuinely moving.

The climax is a workmanlike rise of psychological terror, but the whole exercise looks self-consciously careful.

George Cukor carefully avoids the obvious effects in telling this story of a husband (Charles Boyer) attempting to drive his wife (Ingrid Bergman) insane; instead, this 1944 film is one of the few psychological thrillers that is genuinely psychological, depending on subtle clues—a gesture, an intonation—to thought and character.

Yes, the ending is weak, and there are aspects of the story that don't stand up to scrutiny, but this is the kind of effectively-crafted, well-acted motion picture that rises above its faults to earn its "classic" appellation.

It’s often asked why battered women don’t “just leave.” Gaslight evokes the sort of psychological intimidation and cruel mind games that make it so much more complicated than that.