4 stars

I had always assumed that ‘gaslighting’, a form of psychological manipulation which systematically breaks down another person’s grip on reality, was a very modern phenomenon. Imagine my surprise when I found out that its etymology derives from a play first written in 1938. Gaslight tells the story of a woman, Bella, who is being persuaded she is quite mad by her husband, Jack. He hides her possessions, plays sadistic tricks on her and continually threatens her with violence or the madhouse. Mysteriously, she also hears footsteps on the forbidden top floor of the house through the ceiling. So far, so gaslighty.

It seems initially as though the whole play will be consist of Bella being slowly driven out of her mind. I’m all for deeply moving theatre, but two hours of this sad fate does not sound like an appealing prospect, especially as I’ve brought my companion here for her birthday. It brings to mind that one time when I watched 12 Years A Slave for my friend’s 15th birthday, which was just as uplifting and joyful as you could imagine.

Fortunately, and almost entirely out of the blue, a dashing police detective, played by the excellent Joe McArdle, shows up to save Bella from her terrible spouse. It turns out that Jack is an infamous murderer that has shown up back at the scene of the crime to recover valuable gems he never found in the initial slash and grab. The eponymous gas lights fade whenever he ascends to the top floor to search. Horror ensues! Mostly at the faintly ridiculous, but as I will begrudgingly admit, rather clever plot.

This particular production of Gaslight laboured somewhat. In the words of my companion, ‘I was bored until the detective showed up’. The dialogue was sometimes slow and meandering. Jordan Wallace’s characterisation of Jack could do with a little more sinister intent and Jemima Murphy, as Bella, could use a smidgeon more confused lovesickness. Nonetheless, the play really got going once the detective appeared on the scene. Striding around on stage, eliciting laughs from the crowd, McArdle proved to be a wonderfully energetic addition to the production.

One factor that they overemphasised was the Baker Miller Pink, a shade designed with pseudoscience to pacify and calm those looking at it. I can’t say I noticed any effect, either on me or by its inclusion.

Overall, the play was a good watch. The clever use of lighting for the flickering gas lamps, the thrill of the hunt for the treasure and of course, the triumph over the wicked husband by the noble force of the law made for a pleasant conclusion. Unfortunately, real cases of gaslighting do not follow such a course. In a world where people are slowly waking up to the realities of such subtle abuse in the domestic sphere, how relevant is it to have a play where the good guys always win?