Divorce parties are a real thing. Hey, why not? If we can celebrate two people coming together, why can’t we celebrate someone finding their independence, particularly if the marriage is toxic or abusive? This idea came to mind when a recently divorced friend of mine (who’d held a divorce party) had posted about watching Gaslit by My Husband: The Morgan Metzer Story. I’d killed a Sunday afternoon by viewing it. It’s based on the true story of Morgan Metzer, who endured an abusive marriage before finally finding the strength to divorce her husband, Rodney.
They seem to get along while apart. But, at one point, she’s attacked in her home. After some digging by police, it’s revealed that Rodney was the one who broke into her home. His motivation: she’ll feel vulnerable and come crawling back to him. She didn’t. And he was sentenced to 25 years in prison and 45 years of probation.
As an amateur film critic, I was a tad befuddled by the strange pacing of the movie. For much of it, it looks like a happy marriage, even if Rodney’s inability to keep a job puts somewhat of a strain on it. But then I realized the filmmakers were engaging in the device of “planting.”
Chances are, the same issues that impact Morgan’s well-being at risk (I’m speculating entitlement and a hot temper) also compromise his ability to keep a job. And we see Morgan taking pills in secret. She also goes to a support group for parents who’ve lost children, while Rodney refuses.
When we first meet the couple, Rodney is consoling Morgan after a miscarriage; he appears very supportive. A few years later, they have two kids and are the kind of family that floods social media with pictures of their bliss, sans some low-key disputes regarding financial challenges, disagreements involving childcare schedules, and Morgan’s attendance at a group and pill addiction. These indicate trouble but not necessarily an abusive dynamic.
We get the first sense of Rodney’s abuse when he berates Morgan at a barbecue for “hanging all over” his friends when we’ve seen her do nothing of the sort. We then see her hit him in the face after he grabs her arm a little too hard. Later on, we see that the editors intentionally left out the shot where HE hits HER. The editing’s a bit obvious and transparent, but we do get the jist. The audience is given a surrogate in the form of Morgan’s friend, Nicole, who reveals this.
To exacerbate the problem, Rodney tells their family and friends that HE’s the victim. He also sends to messages to himself and Morgan in the guise of Cliff, a man who Morgan’s met at her group and tries to establish a platonic relationship. When Morgan becomes the breadwinner, he spends her/their money recklessly.
Between the divorce and the attack, the cinematographer shoots the scene in much brighter hues, including a nice, quick sequence where Morgan is decorating Christmas cookies with Nicole and her kids. And Rodney seems to have reformed, revealing he has cancer and making a direct amends to Morgan for his failures as a husband.
And then comes the attack where Morgan’s “attacker,” keeps asking, “Do you love your husband” after she pleads with him not to kill him. The things some people do for validation…
Morgan is obviously much better off without Rodney.
A couple of caveats: the bulk of the movie is set in 2020 and 2021, and there’s no mention of COVID or lockdown. Some of the dialogue, like when the leader of the support group gives advice on how to handle a narcissist, is a bit on the nose. But it is a Lifetime movie, so we can forgive that.
And it shows that a seemingly picture-perfect marriage with all the trimmings (kids, house, white picket fence) can hide some darker features.