Blue Velvet (1986)
In short: If you don't enjoy David Lynch, you won't enjoy "Blue Velvet." If you do, see it (assuming you haven't already).
Kate: Um. Yeah. Ross assured me that this was a classic that many consider to be the ultimate in David Lynch, so I stayed through the whole thing. Otherwise, I think I would have left halfway through. I was bored--and not in a Thumbsucker, gee-I-wonder-when-the-dentist-will-come-back kinda way, but in a gee-I-wonder-if-someone-with-an-exposed-brain-could-actually-stand-up-like-that kinda way.
So I get that it is supposed to make me uncomfortable. And I get that it is supposed to be making fun of movie conventions and dialogue. But the result isn't deep, it's just boring. Other films have done it better, and continue to do it better (the film I saw with Ross in chicago comes to mind, though the name escapes me [Aesthenic Syndrome]). David Lynch somehow managed to make a statement about film and simultaneously MAKE ME NOT CARE. Congrats.
Ross: Indeed, I expected to leave this movie having soiled myself in pure cinematic ecstasy several times, and this didn't happen. I didn't think the movie was pointless, though. I think Lynch was trying to give his spin on both the traditional coming of age story and dark Freudian stuff about the subconscious, which was that (1) coming of age includes developing a dark, scary subconscious, and (2) that the subconscious, while dark and scary, is also kind of ridiculous. And I think he does this pretty effectively -- many parts of the movie are genuinely funny, which I wasn't expecting. This interpretation might be a bit of a stretch, so if anybody reading this objects, I'd be interested in your comments.
I would not say that this is Lynch's strongest film. I don't think that it's any deeper/darker/more disturbing than, say, "Mulholland Drive," and I think the latter film is also much more engaging. This is important. I accept that a David Lynch film is going to be an intricate philosophical puzzle, but, since I'm lazy, I'm more likely to try to work through that puzzle if I get really sucked into it. And again, if anybody can explain to me why "Blue Velvet" is a better film than "Mulholland Drive," I'd like to hear it.
posted by RossAndKate @ 7:48 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I think the reason that Blue Velvet is usually cited as the Lynch film par excellence is, paradoxically, that it is by far the most accessible truly Lynchian film (meaning disclude "Dune", "The Straight Story", and "The Elephant Man") in his filmography. Unlike "Mulholland Drive", "Lost Highway", or "Eraserhead", "Blue" Velvet present's the young protagonist's subconscious meanderings as an easy-to-digest, coherent narrative that doesn't force the film's audience to reckon with, say, Balthazaar Getty's "I'm in your house right now. Call Me," statement, or "Mulholland Drive's" temporally tortuous narrative. What's interesting about these other films is that they don't just explore subconscious desires and fears thematically, they also do it cinematically: the camera lingers far longer than necessary on certain lurid tableaux, some scenes seem to have been included less because they're necessary to the plot than because they fascinate Lynch (or his characters), and not every proverbial rifle displayed upon a baldric in at one is fired before the final curtain falls. "Blue Velvet" doesn't do any of this, and I think that's the reason it's not as rich a film, or as innovative, as his other, signature works.
I do think that there are things to be admired in this film, however, and I do think it has its place in the Lynch canon. The primary reason I enjoyed the film when I saw it was that I think Dennis Hopper's acting was tremendous (I wish I could say that the rest of the cast shone as bright, especially Kyle "Agent Cooper" McLaughlin). The parenthetical brings me to another point, which is the thematic similarity between "Blue Velvet" and the "Twin Peaks" series, in that both can be interpreted as exposing not merely the dark periphery of one person's consciousness or adolescence, but the dark periphery of the quiet serenity of the archetypal American small town, viz. the Derridian supplement to Americana. Seen as such, "Blue Velvet" and "Twin Peaks" can be compared (and I think favorably) to other works, such as "American Beauty", which attempt the same sort of exploration. Compared to "American Beauty's" somewhat cookie-cutter conceptions of suburban/exurban America's 'dark side' (latent homosexuality, Lolitaism, and the self-hatred of the cheerily-veneered working mother), Lynch presents us with something a bit more lurid and sickening: here's the cat's true form ("Fruits Basket" reference), and it's at once disgusting, ridiculous to the point of being silly, and intriguing. However, let's not kid ourselves: "Twin Peaks" does a far better job of articulating this than "Blue Velvet" does, and in many ways I see the latter as a prototype for the former. While I can't say that I see Lynch's underbelly of America as compelling as the paranoia-ridden network of international intrigue that characterizes Thomas Pyncheon's "Vineland", it has its place. So I can't say I found the film boring either (the camerawork is also pretty good, though Lynch has done better since), but I did find it a bit too linear.
So I appreciate "Blue Velvet" for its commentary on the underside of the American idyll (and thus disagree, at least partially, with David Foster Wallace on this issue), for some of its acting, and for its role as a precursor to the more fully-baked "Twin Peaks" series. People see the film as Lynch's masterwork because they can digest it fully, whereas with "Mulholland Drive", "Lost Highway", etc., there are always open questions that linger in the esophagus like a malicious and amorphous matzoh ball.
This is the Lynchian Lynch at his most approachable, but not his best. I, too, would like to hear some contrasting opinions on the subject, or justifications as to why this might be construed as Lynch's magnum opus, but I can't offer any myself. I don't see it either.
-BT
Kate here:
Yeah, I see what both of you are saying, but the nitty gritty is that I just didn't care. And a film can be as profound as it wants, but if I find myself NOT CARING, then all of the profundity in the world won't make up for it.
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