Cinequest 2021: The Yellow Wallpaper, reviewed

The Yellow Wallpaper - Image courtesy Pontuti, Loreth

Adapting The Yellow Wallpaper, written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman in 1862, could be challenging for any established director, let alone an emerging one. While the short story reveals a series of scribbled journal entries over the course of a summer spent in a somewhat haunted house, the space between the lines of the story undoubtedly needs to be filled if a screen portrayal is to be successful.

Destiny

Tackled by director Kevin Pontuti, his debut film follows along with the tale as Jane (Alexandra Loreth) is just entering motherhood. An uneasy transition, the viewer can tell almost immediately from the first scenes of the film that Jane is suffering from postpartum depression, a treatable mental illness commonly felt by women traditionally within the first few weeks of delivering a child. Symptoms of the disorder include exhaustion, anxiousness, hopelessness, and feeling overwhelmed. However, more serious cases can lead to thoughts of hurting the baby, oneself, or even hysteria, such as hearing voices, among other possible symptoms. 

At any rate, as told in both mediums, Jane begins to fall further into her postpartum depression, to the point where she becomes obsessed with the repulsive yellow wallpaper that engulfs her bedroom and the woman she believes is trapped within its walls. The obsession—ultimately a result of her continued dismissed concerns over her own well-being and treatments—do seem to give Jane’s character that Gothic sense of being. While we don’t get to see it, we can piece together that prior to having her child, Jane was a great writer and, to some extent, a romantic, in that she built a life with John. Although not portrayed in a horrific way as Gothic horror tends to, Jane’s loss of occupation and her prior life can be viewed as a kind of personal “death.”

Although not shown through a traditional horror lens, with no cues for jumpscares or unsettling darkness, the movie’s cinematography does a lovely job creating that transition, rather poetically. In the close-ups, we see of the wallpaper itself, featuring a cluster of flowers, vines, and what could only be described as a bar-like background (like a fence, or a trap), the viewer can make the connection to the real scenes in the garden, also featuring a locked iron gate as well. That same “trapped” imagery is also witnessed in Jane and John’s headboard, which is cast with a series of decorative but profound iron bars.

As Jane becomes trapped in several ways, we also see her become engulfed by the colors of that room. As much as she grows to hate them, it feels as though the more she subjects herself to being trapped within that space, she reflects it, too. From the otherwise bold and contrasting styles we see Jane dressed in from the beginning of the film, we watch her become more pale, more white, more yellow, more sick, and crazed as the film presses forward. Her behavior also falls in line with these simultaneous transitions.

The Yellow Wallpaper - Image courtesy Pontuti, Loreth

Sadly, where the film falls short for me are the characters who are meant to be the glue of this entire struggle. While John is distant and lacks emotional connection, Jane’s awkwardness is just that: awkward. While I want to connect with her suffering and even be afraid of the thoughts that flood her brain, I am left unfeeling and not even slightly unsettled. Although the film’s ending makes a strong turn to correct this otherwise slow journey that, to me, felt crazed and painful in Gilman’s telling, I’m unsure if it was enough to make up for the journey it took us to get there.

Theresa

It should be noted that adapting The Yellow Wallpaper for film is an ambitious undertaking. However, what the written story lacks in horror, the film lacks in coy suspense. 

The Yellow Wallpaper film focuses in part on postpartum depression and the constraints of motherhood. But what opens as empathetic discourse later turns instead towards the monstrous mother in a few confusing scenes that leave the viewer neither afraid nor satisfied. Save for the ending of this film, the portrayal of a woman’s mental illness dismissed by her husband and provoked by other women is a commonly discussed theme.

Pontuti’s interpretation hones in on Jane’s dissatisfaction with a life that is focused solely on motherhood (a worthwhile discussion). However, the film glosses over thematic structures of the written story that aid in this discourse. Rather than tell us that the bedroom with yellow wallpaper used to be a child’s nursery, the director instead attempts to show us through various other scenes involving a beautiful young nurse (Clara Harte) caring for Jane’s baby. This character is maid turned maiden, pushing and pulling on our ideas of what it is exactly that is causing Jane’s illness. Could it be jealousy? Depression? Paranoia? Obsession? None are significantly clear. Moreover, as Jane becomes increasingly ill, the child becomes a blurry benchmark for understanding her motives. I won’t pretend that the isolation and stillness of mental illness is easy to portray on screen, but the choices made surrounding motherhood are neither unhindered nor grotesque enough to push this narrative into uncharted territory. 

There are many long, beautiful hovering shots that follow protagonist Jane through her journey in the film. Not many of them build suspense, but rather keep the viewer in a holding pattern waiting for action. The Yellow Wallpaper is a visually beautiful film. The wallpaper itself is rich and saturated in color, which gives room for the viewer to both enjoy it and feel disgusted by it. Yellow is a notoriously disturbing color, and the pattern (which I can assume was created for the film) is intricate and lovely. There are scenes that play with light that capture the intensity of the paper that exemplify Jane’s obsession. The ending of the film is especially beautiful, and hauntingly so, as the written story is left open for interpretation, and Pontuti’s version is a good one. As much as I love the wallpaper, I find much of the other imagery to be heavy-handed. The color of the characters’ clothing and the rest of the house and landscape give the story away too soon, leaving me craving for a lot more.

I’m impressed by the boldness of the cinematography throughout The Yellow Wallpaper. Although not executed quite to the level of suspense and danger that I was hoping for, it is brave in design and striking in concept. Particularly in the detailed shots of Jane’s intimate relationship with the wallpaper itself, we can see the camera working to develop all of our senses, not just the visuals, as we experience the room alongside the protagonist. Conversely, I found the score to be distracting. I enjoy the audial textures and ambitious ideas that challenge our ears as to what can be scary, but the timing and context are uncanny in a way that did not drive the story forward.

In an effort to tackle two extremely difficult narratives—The Yellow Wallpaper as written work and portraying mental illness on-screen—the makers of this film sought out a worthwhile pursuit. While it may have a long way to go, the creative choices made by this team are significant and worth paying attention to. The Yellow Wallpaper was nothing short of beautiful and strange—a very good place to be in the horror genre.

The Yellow Wallpaper premieres at Cinequest 2021

---

Article written by Destiny Johnson & Theresa Baughman

Destiny writes about true crime and thrillers. She likes movies and stories that make you question the world around you, more so than what makes you jump.

Theresa totally hates movies but sometimes watches them with her friends. She writes about the intersection of art & anthropology, gendered horror, and demonic possession horror.