David Lynch is unquestionably one of the world's most distinctive, original and challenging directors, making a very particular kind of film that combines surrealism, sex and suspense with the effect of producing the most unsettling thrillers of cinema. 'The Elephant Man' is an altogether different prospect. Telling the story of John Merrick, the remarkably deformed man who was rescued from a life as a freak and became the latest craze of Victorian London, the film is a very tender portrayal of a man seeking acceptance from a society he can't fully understand, having always existed on its peripheries. Meanwhile, the doctor who saves Merrick questions himself as to his own motives and ambitions to be gained from his association with the Elephant Man. This relatively conventional film demonstrates the impact Lynch might have had on mainstream cinema if he hadn't taken his individualism quite as far as he did.
Lynch was working with a mainstream cast, including John Hurt in an astounding performance as Merrick; Anthony Hopkins as Treves, his conflicted saviour; Anne Bancroft as his admirer and friend, the fashionable actress, Mrs Kendal; and Sir John Gielgud as Carr Gomm, the head of the London Hospital. On the technical side featured cinematographer Freddie Francis, director of countless Horrors in the 60s and 70s; John Morris, composer for Mel Brooks' comedies; production designer Stuart Craig, who went on to build an incredible CV including the 'Harry Potter' films; and editor Anne Coates, who has worked on a variety of films from 'Lawrence of Arabia' to 'The Golden Compass'. In stark contrast, Lynch himself had only made one film, the extremely bizarre and experimental 'Eraserhead', which he had made almost entirely by himself over several years. How he assembled such an experienced cast and crew is unknown to me but the results are spectacular, with a brilliantly acted, technically excellent film that won several awards and was nominated for 8 Oscars. John Hurt has never been so stunning, still able to make an incredible human connection beneath mounds of make-up and prosthetics.
The film begins in typical Lynch style with an abstract, dreamlike montage featuring the events that allegedly led to Merrick's deformation - his mother being trampled by an elephant - only the way Lynch shoots the scene we can't be entirely sure she isn't raped. The rest of the film is fairly settled in comparison, but the trademark experimental soundtrack of 'Eraserhead' (where there was never a moment of silence but a constant barrage of industrial noises and unnerving creaks) is also present here, only this time the heavy breathing of the chronically bronchitis-infected Merrick is juxtaposed with the puffing of steam engines and the hissing of gas lamps. This, we understand, is a film that examines the relationship between an increasingly industrial world with the purely physical nature of humans - after all, Merrick's affliction is only skin deep and we find a very tender and loving man beneath. The beautiful cinematography shifts from traditionally framed establishing shots to unbalanced, high-angled pans and the editing often intercuts one calm, tender scene with a tense build-up of violence, creating a constant restlessness and menacing air to the film. The director's hand of Lynch is masterful and confident.
Whilst we follows Merrick's gradual acceptance into the company of normal people, we see a collection of characters around him looking to exploit his uniqueness. There is his 'owner', the bullying but weak Bytes (Freddie Jones), who fears losing his livelihood after his most valuable 'freak' is taken away from him. Then there is the hospital's night porter (Michael Elphick) who takes advantage of his position to take paying, and often drunk, visitors to Merrick's room at night where they terrorise him. Finally, there is Treves, who initially takes in Merrick to present him to his peers and make a name for himself, before later allowing the most privileged members of society access to him in an altogether more high-class form of freak show. These character's come to various ends and these issue are resolved in different ways, but throughout, Merrick remains powerless, constantly relying on the help of those more fortunate than himsalf, and believing he has found friends among those that are simply intrigued of egotistic. His presence in London even interests Queen Victoria, who intervenes in order to ensure he has permanent residence in the hospital.
Ultimately, the film resembles a fairytale. The ugly duckling who gains love and friendship from others through his own innocence. He is reminiscient of Dostoyevsky's 'Idiot', unaware of his clumsiness and unsuitability for society, but charming and delightful in a childlike way. His physical exceptionalness is almost second to his remarkable incorruptibility, the tragedy of his situation combined with his stoic attitude often moving both characters and audience to tears. Only Lynch's similarly conventional, 'The Straight Story', would feature a character so unquestionably good, whilst the rest of his career has focused on the much darker aspects of the human psyche.
Don't get me wrong, I deeply admire Lynch's other films, with the head-fuck of 'Lost Highway' being a personal favourite, but I can't help but wonder what might have been if he had been much more subtle and plied his trade from within more conventional cinema. 'The Elephant Man' still presents many opportunities for experimentation and the film is no doubt much richer for Lynch's vision, just imagine what other topics he could have handled in a similar vein...
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