Thursday, May 7, 2020
Director Report Card: David Lynch (1980)
2. The Elephant Man
There's an alternate universe where “Eraserhead” never made it out of the underground, where David Lynch remained only a weirdo behind baffling home-made oddities. Instead, a Hollywood legend would unexpectedly change the course of Lynch's career. Mel Brooks had acquired a script about Joseph Merrick, the infamously deformed Elephant Man of Victorian England, with the intention of producing it through his new Brooksfilm company. Someone recommend David Lynch for the job and Brooks insisted on seeing “Eraserhead” before hiring him. If it had been anyone else, the story probably would've ended there. Instead, Brooks loved the film and immediately hired him. “The Elephant Man” would be Lynch's mainstream breakthrough.
Around the year 1882, English surgeon Frederick Treves, currently employed at the London Hospital, attends a freak show. There, he discover John Merrick, a sideshow performer billed as “The Elephant Man.” Merrick is an exceptionally deformed individual, his head weighed down by massive growths and his body twisted by rough tumors. Treves soon discovered Merrick is being abused by his handlers and takes him to the English Hospital. Initially assuming him to be mentally disabled, Treves soon discovers that Merrick is an intelligent, thoughtful soul. The doctor and his unusual patient soon form a close friendship.
The historical accuracy of “The Elephant Man” has been considered many times. The Elephant Man's real name was Joseph Merrick, not John. By most accounts, he was not abused during his time as a sideshow curiosity, that being one of the few careers available to such a person during that time. However, historical accuracy is not really the purpose of Lynch's “Elephant Man.” Instead, Merrick's real life becomes a chance to tell a tale about dignity. Merrick is depicted as an uncommonly gentle man. He is naturally shy, so use to people fleeing from him. When Treves shows him kindness, he is surprised. Throughout the film, simple acts of kindness bring Merrick to tears. Only when people take the chance to treat him with respect, do they discover what a kind and interesting person he is.
Granted, it would be easy for such a story to come off as mawkish or sappy. Certainly, stories of physically disabled people overcoming the challenges their condition give them represent a large percentage of the “glurge” genre. Some people have accused Lynch's film of just yet. In my opinion, “The Elephant Man” avoids this problem by being totally sincere. The emotions are depicted with complete honesty. When Treves' wife treating Merrick with tea causes him to cry, the film acknowledges the awkwardness of the situation while also showing the beauty in it. “The Elephant Man” realizes Merrick was a special man, not just because of his deformity, but because of his art, his observation, the softness with which he interacted with the world. Likewise, Treves' ability to look past their differences to have a deep friendship is similarly depicted with a soft, meaningful touch.
Also, “The Elephant Man” isn't just focused on depicting the nice things that happened during this time. The movie considers the uncomfortable questions and hard truths facing these people. The harsh living conditions of England, right at the start of the industrial revolution, are shown. People are sick, dirty, and dying. More pressingly, Treves actively wonders if he's any better than the sideshow promoters who exploited Merrick. Both show off the man's deformities for their own gain, one for money, the other for status. While it's pretty clear which situation is better, “The Elephant Man” still leaves you wondering if any system that uses a human life as a tool for gain is ethical.
At a glance, “The Elephant Man” seems to be an outlier in David Lynch's career. Especially when compared to “Eraserhead,” it's a much more straight-forward and accessible story. If you were being cynical, you could even say that Lynch was deliberately trying to make a more mainstream movie after his aggressively weird debut. Yet a closer look reveals that “The Elephant Man” fits right in with Lynch's work. Though best known for stories of grotesque darkness hiding under the wholesome facade of Amercana, Lynch's films also concern pure souls navigating that darkness. Here, John Merrick's utmost sincere makes him a traditional Lynchian hero, an innocent trying to survive an unforgiving world. And just as “Blue Velvet” concerns the power of love to overcome that darkness, “The Elephant Man” shows kindness and compassion overcoming greed and cruelty.
Aesthetically speaking, there's a direct line between Lynch's debut and his second feature. Both “Eraserhead” and “The Elephant Man” are characterized by harsh, industrial sound design. Howling wind and mechanical churning are frequently heard outside. Much like Henry Spencer, Merrick spends most of the movie confined to a small apartment. In fact, both rooms rather resemble each other, with their flat walls and square construction. The many long, lingering shots of Merrick's face, lost in thought, also recall similar moments from Lynch's avant-garde first film. Not to mention, of course, the decision to shoot both movies in black-and-white. Though different in approach, “The Elephant Man” is a direct continuation of “Eraserhead's” visual design.
But “The Elephant Man” was made for a lot more money then “Eraserhead.” This isn't just obvious in the period costumes or fancy production design. The film's cinematographer was Freddie Francis. As a cinematographer, Francis granted such respected films as “The Innocents” and “Sons and Lovers” their iconic looks. As a director, he made horror classics for Hammer and Amicus. Francis essentially shoots “The Elephant Man” like a gothic horror movie. The grim, Victorian architecture is made more foreboding by the high contrast, black and white images. Fog often billows along the outskirts of the frame. A sequence, where Merrick is escorted through a dark forest by a band of fellow circus freaks, is right out of “Paranoic” or “Dr. Terror's House of Horrors.” Francis creates a visual continuity with tales of misunderstood, hideous outsiders like Frankenstein or Quasimodo, obvious inspirations for Lynch. Simply put, it's a gorgeous film and exactly the kind of visuals I adore.
As much as people talk about how different “The Elephant Man” is from Lynch's other movies, the director still makes his mark on the material. Three times throughout the film, Lynch includes surreal fantasy sequences. The first depicts the mythical conception of John Merrick, showing his mother attacked and terrified by elephants. The misty, warped shots of a woman's screaming face and the distorted noises of the trumpeting elephants would not have been out of place in “Eraserhead.” Midway through the film, Merrick has a dream where he's carried through a dark tunnel and presented with a mirror, another example of Lynch perfectly capturing dream logic on-screen. Lastly, he concludes the film with a spiritual ascent into heaven, a far friendlier version of the events also hinted at in “Eraserhead.” The lighter but no less surreal touch suits a true but definitely strange story such as this, while also reminding us who made this movie.
Initially, Dustin Hoffman was considered for the role of John Merrick. Lynch and his team decided that it would be too distracting to have a major star under the heavy make-up. Instead, John Hurt – only known as a character actor at the time – was chosen. Hurt supposedly hated acting under the heavy make-up but he never shows it. Instead, he creates such a totally empathetic performance. Adopting Merrick's real life slurred speech, Hurt quietly delivers his line. He embodies the gentleness of the man, someone who knew cruelty too well and, thus, knew the value of kindness too. Hurt's quiet, thoughtful performance is the heart of “The Elephant Man.”
Since “The Elephant Man” is as much Treves' story as Merrick's, the casting for that part was equally pivotal. Anthony Hopkins, not yet a household name, is similarly perfect. Hopkins shows the deep consideration and thought Treves brings to his actions. You can tell how it weighs on him, whether or not he's done right by John. The close-ups on his face as he cries, upon seeing Merrick for the first time, could've easily been an overwrought gesture. Instead, Hopkins makes it but one example of how deeply Treves feels for and connects with his patient.
As previously stated, the soundscapes of “The Elephant Man” do recall Lynch's debut. There are often similar sounds of blowing wind and unidentified machinery. Yet Lynch's sophomore feature also has a proper score. John Morris contributes a lovely collection of songs. Chattering bells and carnival-like calliopes establishes the side-show feeling of many scenes, while mournful woodwinds more often bringing Merrick's loneliness to the forefront. Sweeping strings are used more than once to make the viewer's heart swell with emotion. Most notably, Previn Barber's “Adagio for Strings” is beautifully used during a key sequence, to really make sure there's not a dry eye in the house. In other words, it's a jangly, nervous but often beautiful soundtrack that perfectly suits and builds up the film around it.
I don't think David Lynch does anything strictly for reputation or commercial gain. He's far more motivated by his need for artistic expression, working in mysterious ways. Yet, if you choose to believe he made “The Elephant Man” as an attempt at mainstream acceptance, it totally worked. The film was enthusiastically received by critics. It received eight Academy Award nominations, including a Best Director nod for Lynch. (The film didn't win any of them, Lynch recalls with some bemusement.) It's commonly accepted that “The Elephant Man” prompt the Academy to create a category for Make-Up which, if you can believe it, didn't exist before 1981. While perhaps it's not the pure Lynch of “Eraserhead,” “The Elephant Man” is still a great movie, an incredibly touching and beautifully presented story. [Grade: A]
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