Here comes the pedantic Literature major-
A movie adaptation of The Yellow Wallpaper (assuming they are all still talking about the short story by Charlotte Perkins-Gilman) would HAVE to be fucking AMAZINGLY WELL-DONE in an era where Nightbitch and Tully and Die, my love and other films centering around motherhood as an isolating and dehumanizing experience already exist.
Not that it can’t be done, but that it should be done really well and have women in every part of the process. (The only man I trust near this adaptation is Guillermo Del Toro, and even then he should be a producer at most.)
The Yellow Wallpaper is inspired by the REAL LIFE “treatments” that were prescribed to women in the late XIXth century for post-partum depression (“the baby blues”). It is supposed to make you feel like you the reader are crawling up the wall with boredom and lethargy.
The baby? Not fucking important. It really isn’t. The readers are told nothing about it except that the husband’s sister is helping take care of it. It should only appear by distant wails and shadows. Nothing else.
The husband? A condescending doctor who thinks he knows best. He better not be made to look attractive. No Tom Hiddleston in Crimson Peake. He should give the same energy as the “Nice” Commanders in the Handmaid’s Tale.
The NURSERY the protagonist is locked in has BARS on the window. The set designers better put their entire soul on that set. Search for the ugliest shade of yellow in the world. Add some “child” decorations that really convey that this woman is trapped in a room meant for CHILDREN - the alphabet, little animals, nursery rhymes. Make the window bars shadows fall on the protagonist. Make it obvious so even the dumbest person realizes there is no way for her to “get up and leave”. Have fun with the “stains” on the wall.
