Of all the mid-Victorian thrillers that Hollywood has tried its hand at--and there have been a lot of them--"Gaslight" is the first this reviewer can remember that doesn't falter, drag, or lose interest because of plot involvement or sheer length. Although it runs for 104 minutes, it is difficult to see where any of MGM's great amount of footage could be cut."

"Gaslight" is the film version of "Angel Street," now in its third year on the Broadway stage, and other critics have attacked "Gaslight" with an unfavorable contrast between play and movie. These attacks are not justified if the picture is considered on its own merits. Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman, and Joseph Cotten are every bit as effective as Vincent Price, Judith Evelyn, and Leo G. Carroll. It is said that "Angel Street" held its suspense better by concentrating all of the action within an oppressive, plushy, Victorian house; but "Gaslight" achieves its suspense through typically Hollywood, yet very telling, means--with background music, lighting and camera angles.

Almost unique for a period chiller is the simplicity of the plot: it's about a pianist (Boyer) who marries (Bergman) and, for the sake of a few diamonds, tries to drive his wife mad to get her put away and enable him to search her house for the coveted stones. Joseph Cotten is a hawkshaw from Scotland Yard who pulls the here act. Director George Cuckor carries the audience along with all the stages of deliberately produced insanity partly by keeping the plot moving and partly by knocking all of the "For Whom the Bell Tolls" freshness out of Ingrid Bergman and transforming her into a near-neurotic.