Ever since he came onto the scene, David Lynch has continued to polarize. This film is an experience that risks, just like all of his other works, being baffling. While I can’t truthfully say I understand Blue Velvet, you have to commend the effortfulness of it. It knows what it is and commits. From square one, it is overwhelming in its bright 1950s-esque lighting and scenery that is so pristine that it’s grotesque, this then actualizes into shots of the ground and then an ant-covered severed ear. A notable and persistent theme is something traditionally considered American and wholesome, like protagonist Jeffrey Beaumont, played by Kyle MacLachlan, falling in love clashing with something less straightforward or negative, like Jeffrey’s interactions with Dorothy Vallens, played by Isabella Rossellini.
The acting is notably terrible, but it feels very intentional. One example is after an emotional and worried Jeffrey finds the ear, he goes to Detective John Williams, played by George Dickerson, who has a comically cavalier and casual tone to the matter. “Yes, that’s a human ear alright.” He’s even smiling. Later, Sandy Williams, played by Laura Dern, and Jeffrey are talking. The subject matter quickly shifts from a casual conversation to Jeffrey talking about issues with his father to talking about the infamous ear. The delivery of the two’s vocal inflections are lighthearted and hardly shifted to reflect the change in conversation, as if to them this whole time they continue to be talking about pleasantries. At one point, after the two breach into their mutual fascination with morbidity, Sandy asks if Jeffrey wants to see something and he says yes. You’d think that their tones of voice would reflect the underground and unsettling nature of both the topic and the implications of what this says about them. They should be intrigued, but their delivery is wooden, as if they were talking about nothing. If you were hearing about a potential death and even wanted to snoop around to find out more about it, wouldn’t you at least be unsettled in your voice?
Despite this seemingly slapping in the face a basic component of quality storytelling, these performances come with such confidence that it creates a tone both unlike your average good film and even your average bad one. In a bad one, its poor performances serve no apparent function and come off as careless. Here, they blend the familiar with the unfamiliar to make something unsettling. Every line feels deliberate in how it is said. The consequence of this is that the characters are less relatable due to not feeling real. A central focus of the film is Jeffrey and Sandy, but their whole relationship is built on scenes of coming off as caricatures of romance leads and 50s archetypes rather than anything more human.
It is also generally considered a failure if a movie cannot stand on its own and needs the help of some other source. While this is possibly true, with a story being frustrating if you have to go outside of it when you don’t want to, the main issue with this rule is that it’s boring. Note that the main reason for this rule existing is that stories are typically less interesting when they don’t stand on their own and you just stop there. However, who is to say you have to stick to this? Deeper levels of filmmaking can be reached when you look outside of conventions and go against the rule book. This movie may offer a better experience to those that want something as different as possible, even if that goes against what you would expect in order to have a functioning story. Take Dean Stockwell’s scene, which is a visual and musical spectacle, but extremely out there by the standards of narrative storytelling. Stockwell is dressed in clown-like makeup and at one point lip syncs to a Roy Orbison song. The song has thematic relevance to the movie, but note that any number of songs could have filled the same role. The scene is still a favorite due to its elegant and filmic look and Dennis Hopper’s amusing performance. “Man, you are so fucking suave.” More consequently would be Sandy getting mad at Jeffrey only to quickly forgive him.
According to many film critics, a movie fails if its content is too hard to follow or disconnected from itself. As an example, critics and audiences were fairly hard on Magical Mystery Tour, made by and starring the Beatles. That film makes more sense when looked at through its inspirations, Timothy Leary and the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Blue Velvet is also usually looked at through philosophical lenses, like Sigmund Freud. Both films are nonsensical when taken at face value. The difference may not be anything more than the intended audiences being similarly very different. You come with expectations based on the artist’s previous works. The Beatles’ previous films were masterclasses in comedy and music, with a functional story. Just like Tour, Lynch’s story is not functional. One example is that at one point a prominent male character applies lipstick and kisses another man. Homosexuality isn’t otherwise focused on and the purpose of this scene is unclear. You can begin digging and notice things like someone responding like this kiss is something far more violent and disturbing and match that up with the story’s references to 1950s idealism. By extension, numerous other avant-garde movies could get the same treatment.
SPOILERS
There is something arguably too silly about Sandy’s honking at Jeffrey not being heard because he flushed a toilet. It is a bit convenient for the story, but to go along with it, a large part of the story is driven by sexualization, so it is nice that what helps get the character more involved is a moment of exposure of a sexual place. One of the most sexual parts of the film is when Jeffrey in the nude hits Dorothy, albeit with her asking him to do so. While this isn’t played for laughs, the screen itself distorting heavily after takes the focus off of what just happened, as if we’re not supposed to be thinking about it. The movie as a whole never wants to look away from Jeffrey’s perspective, even to consider Dorothy, who has a lot going on clearly. Her behavior as a whole is ripe for analysis, but the story itself doesn’t care about that. It feels like we’re being left hanging after being given so much on how Dorothy suffers.
The scene of Sandy feeling hurt and anger at Jeffrey over cheating on her is an especially strange one. It became apparent the reason why is because it is conventional and believable, something that you might see in any other movie. Sandy even has a really over-animated crying face. While already silly, it is in stark contrast to how chilled she normally is. After this scene, the story arguably becomes a bit more conventional, while still being itself. Sandy confesses her love to Jeffrey, clearing up the tension of her having a boyfriend; Jeffrey goes and finds the body the ear came from and kills the big bad; then we move to a happy ending. This more “conventional” climax feels very jarring. Shots of Sandy running for Jeffrey are intercut with Jeffrey’s investigating haphazardly. The score builds tension for the scene as if we’re watching the ending of an adventure film, as if this movie has been building suspense to this moment.
The primary reason it’s so unsatisfying is that unlike in a story where you pick up information over time and stop the antagonist, here everyone is in the same position they already were in. The main antagonist Frank, played by Dennis Hopper, and Jeffrey are in the same mental and physical location, with Jeffrey in the closet again. The difference is now Jeffrey has a gun. If he did in the beginning the movie could’ve had the same ending but been much shorter. The discovery of where the ear came from is also very conveniently just provided, as if Frank displayed it for Jeffrey to find. On top of all this, Jeffrey is hardly even a character and this plot is hardly even a story, so where is the suspense?
The reason Sandy found out about the cheating was because Dorothy appeared beaten and naked at Jeffrey’s house, which is almost the epitome of the uncaring and scary world depicted with the crime life of this film. The picture beginning with its 1950s-esque imagery suggests that that is a default for this world. Thus, there is a sense of fear from what breaks from that, which also plays off the 50s’ stereotypical desire for everything to have this overly clean cut and pristine image, not to be tainted by Communists or more generally criminals. Despite this, that underbelly of life you’re not supposed to like or look at is appealing, even to an apparent nobody. The absurdity of those antagonist characters reflects their seemingly paradoxical appeal, the comical attitude would make them more appealing, as would the more apparent pleasure of sex from Dorothy. It disproves the notion that the “50s” lifestyle is perfectly satisfactory. By the same token, Dorothy’s brutal state shows both that such violence exists and comes out and also that there are drawbacks to engaging in behavior like Jeffrey’s, investigating crime and having sex with a traumatized and under threat woman.
Unfortunately, the story never concerns itself much with the suffering of Dorothy. Dorothy’s behavior throughout is usually very sexual and sometimes there’s some sense of dark comedy, even if it comes from discomfort over how she’s acting. The offbeat and obviously “funny” Frank, who gets you to laugh at him more than fear, lightens the struggle of Dorothy by proximity, at least to the audience. Her manic yelling, sometimes at essentially nothing, and especially desire for sex makes her funny and sexy more than someone to be afraid for. In fact, the big thing that might get you scared for her is that oftentimes the sorts of deviants who would want casual sex in a 50s film end up killed for their moral crimes. Even from a big early moment for her actress to perform, when she catches Jeffrey in the closet, she doesn’t appear upset with him. She demands he undresses, possibly to gain a sense of control in a way she can. Her wanting sex with him there would probably be seen as a fantasy for many. The character never gets to be looked at outside of the 80s tropes of hyper sexualization or the 50s one of filling a motherly role.
The ending depicts the various non-villain characters at peace and living a 1950s idyllic lifestyle, as if to say that after dealing with the harshness of the brutal 80s sex and violence, that going back in time is the liberator. This is shown through Jeffrey’s relationship with Dorothy not ultimately affecting his with Sandy, as if he spiritually went to before that was a concern. Dorothy returns to having her child and an apparently peaceful life, because Jeffrey was able to kill her captor by returning to the closet that first gave him insight into these events. Essentially, the troubles are depicted as being undone. Even with differences like Jeffrey and Sandy now being together, arguably that would have happened even if nothing ever went wrong. To compare this film to the idea people have of 50s media, it’s often considered too clean. In fact, due to this scene being almost too perfect, like with the robin arriving that supposedly liberated the world in Sandy’s dream, this ending doesn’t feel real. Note the artificial look of the robin and the camera panning to the sky at the end. Sandy also earlier referenced seeing thousands of robins in her dream, but here there’s only one.
While there are many interpretations of what the film and this ending are saying, one is that hiding from your issues is appealing, but not ultimately advisable. Jeffrey started to make more progress in his investigation of his mystery once he first left the closet. Once Dorothy opened herself up to him, she too improved for both of their sakes, note her knife being dangerously close to Jeffrey’s genitals. Jeffrey hiding around Frank results in him being caught by him and his life seemingly threatened. There’s not even a reason for Frank to not kill him. However, Frank was not really much of a threat due to being so easy to find and kill. The detective wanted Jeffrey to stay uninvolved in the case, especially to avoid including Sandy, but when he does this anyways he gets what he wants and isn’t reprimanded, like his actions suddenly become justified because they happened to stop a violent criminal. Despite originally being afraid of Dorothy, Jeffrey opens up to her and literally in the nude hits her. Here, he is accepting not being so perfect. His willingness to degrade for the fun of it breaks the film, as if destroying his perceived innocence, but it doesn’t matter in the end. The film keeps going.
OVERVIEW
Blue Velvet is an experience that clearly says a lot and means a lot to many people. Even on a surface level, it offers a lot in terms of thrills and comedy, which have a unique connective tissue of dreamlike non-sequiturs. On that aesthetic level, the performers work well. All are dressed and filmed so well that they resonate more on an emotional level, like when Jeffrey is wearing and lit with black. Like media of the past with heroic but simple protagonists, you’re supposed to put yourself in the shoes of Jeffrey. He’s very good looking, smart, and is never struggling to get women. The consequence of this is that the aesthetic depiction of women is too stereotypical and arguably disturbing. By extension, the ending appears to try to erase the trauma as depicted before, as if it can be so simply and without comment. While this picture does comment on the 50s and what that was like, it doesn’t challenge it much. Nor does it challenge the cinematic convention of having a lighthearted character or segment to relieve yourself of the madness. Dennis Hopper is all absurdity and is by far the best performance, but not for the right reason. He serves the purpose of not leaving the movie to be all doom and gloom. His flavor of chaos feels out of left field for the movie but not so much when put up against the silver screen’s other comic relief roles. He also probably looks a lot better due to how much more muted everyone else is. And c’mon David Lynch, that’s cheating!
The Filme Diary 