We continue our month-long tribute to the work of David Lynch with an Oscar calibur empathetic masterwork
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: The Elephant Man (1980)
Our Team
Ed Travis
“I am not an animal. I am a human being”
I first encountered The Elephant Man in my youth and its redemptive narrative is likely one of the early building blocks of my deep love for cinema as a medium for empathy. It’s a film that’s almost preternaturally attuned to hit me, a person who has always attempted to follow Jesus more from the “love one another” motivation than the “let’s be a Christian nation” angle, right in the deepest parts of my soul. The film introduces us to “the terrible Elephant Man”, a frightening other, a freak who is despised and exploited for his curious and unexplained physical difference. But as Anthony Hopkins’ Dr. Treves studies this man and takes him into his hospital, his home, and his heart, we come to know John Merrick; a fearful but intelligent young man who’s learned how to survive in a cruel world. John begins to find a voice, and a safe place from which he can live and express himself as a kind and curious and artistic person. Genuine kindness and sacrifice allows us to move from “awful” to “awe-filled”.
And who could capture such a genuine, complicated, tragic, and hopeful journey better than master filmmaker David Lynch? Known more for his dedication to surreality in his films, Lynch nevertheless had an innate kindness to him, and a soft spot for the outcast and despised of this earth. Perhaps many would think the freak show components of The Elephant Man better align with Lynch, but part of what made Lynch such an essential voice was an unflinching willingness to depict evil, true brutality and human depravity, while also infusing an innate goodness and truth into his work.
And as such, the 8-time Oscar nominated 1980 masterwork The Elephant Man was indeed in the best hands imaginable to swell the heart with almost impossible levels of cinematic compassion and redemption, while simultaneously depicting the true muck and mire of human indecency which Mr. Merrick had to contend with. It’s why, in a film that soars with a profound satisfaction of John Merrick finding friends, and a home, and safety and belonging, our heroic doctor can look John in the face and simply say “no” when asked whether or not a cure might be found. It’s also crucial that Lynch is able to depict Dr. Treves as himself a flawed and conflicted helper, perhaps at times in it for himself, or morbidly curious just like the freak show onlookers, but who pushes past self-interest or obsession into a deeper level of genuine friendship and complex give and take. Lynch is able to infuse nuance throughout a film that could’ve easily been exploitative or treacly.
The Elephant Man isn’t about fixing people. It simply depicts our abject propensity to fear and hate what is different, and also revel in the profundity of the human capacity to love, accept, and welcome what we do not understand and find redemption, community, and family in acceptance and grace.
“My life is full because I know I am loved.”
Julian Singleton
As much as Lynch openly explored the virulent darkness humans are capable of, rife with greed, hate, cowardice, and other self-destructive impulses, he was always a creator who sincerely believed in our individual and collective capacity for Good. To borrow from Twin Peaks, in a world full of demonic Bobs or devious Windom Earles, we all could be Dale Coopers or Major Briggs if we chose to fix our hearts rather than die.
I like to believe similar notions ran through Mel Brooks’ mind when he screened Eraserhead for the first time, and determined from Lynch’s art-house parental horror film that he was the director best suited to adapt The Elephant Man for the screen.
It’s a film that finds primal ugliness at the heart of an era at the dawn of rampant industrial progress, as black smoke belched from factories rife with machines that regularly chewed-up and disfigured their workers. Their only respite: to head to freak shows full of the only people who could possibly have it worse.
What’s fascinating about Lynch’s take on Joseph Merrick’s story is how even though the film opens with Anthony Hopkins’ clinical yet kind-natured Dr. Treves, Merrick (a remarkable John Hurt) grows to rightfully take charge of the film’s focus–with his natural kindness spreading like an effective cure to society’s ills as he and Treves pierce through their initial repulsion. Through a calm voice and limited movement, Merrick can’t help but evoke a transformation in whoever he meets, unearthing individual compassion from the ruins of institutional cruelty, saving others from descending into irredeemable monstrosity.
Lynch and master DP Freddie Francis never belabor this into melodramatic territory–like Eraserhead before it, it’s a film that more than eagerly nestles into ambiguous shadow and uncomfortability, and refuses to turn away from the individual hate and mass vitriol Merrick endures as much as it lingers on gentler moments. Lynch’s balance of darkness and light in both a tangible and thematic way is so damn apt and effective, even this early in his career. As such, The Elephant Man rivals Mulholland Drive and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me as the crown jewels of an unparalleled career as one of film’s most empathetic filmmakers.
Despite the fact that a lot of what I’m drawn to with Lynch being how weird he is, I genuinely love this film – one of his most “normal” films. There’s so much to say about the true story, this wonderful screen adaptation of the story, and involvement of the great Mel Brooks, but I think the others here have covered most of that.
For me, this film is all about the heart. It tugs at the heartstrings while maintains a beautiful and artistic look and feel. So many dramatic filming this ilk are completely lost on me, but the acting and direction here set it apart. This was a wonderful rewatch and one I am sure to return to every few years.
It’s hard to believe that The Elephant Man was Lynch’s second feature-directing effort. The film is so well-made and lovingly constructed that it’s hard to imagine anyone outside of the David Leans and Richard Attenboroughs of the world being able to pull such a cinematic feat off successfully. But Lynch managed to do so with a superb screenplay and a filmmaking eye that was equal parts empathetic and compelling.
It’s all but impossible not to get wrapped up in the story of John Merrick (John Hurt) and his attempts to exist as something other than the creature society fears. Hurt gives a career-best performance as John, showing his highly emotional journey into the real world and the many places it takes him. Hidden beneath that ever-impressive makeup, Hurt gives John a true innocence and dignity as he summons the courage to come into his own. It’s truly the actor’s finest turn on screen. Hurt may have been the one to have earned a well-deserved Oscar nomination for his performance, but we shouldn’t discount the beautiful work Anthony Hopkins is doing here as one of the only people who sees the beauty within John and fights for him all the way, becoming the parental figure he never really had.
Eraserhead had to have been such a hard act to follow for the young Lynch, and one can only imagine the nerves that came with bringing a script such as The Elephant Man to the big screen. But Lynch clearly embraced the opportunity, showing both a rawness and a storytelling versatility that would come to represent his style as a filmmaker. Over 40 years later, The Elephant Man remains a beautiful portrait of humanity and a testament to one of the greatest filmmakers of his generation.
Join us for the rest of our Lynch celebration for the rest of the month:
And We’re Out.
