How much is too much?: A look at sexual brutality in Blue Velvet
by Michael Rodgers
The following piece is an essay from guest contributor Michael Rodgers. You can follow Michael on Twitter at @MikeRodg.
The contrast between good and evil in the heart of the American small town has been a constant theme in director/writer David Lynch's work, and his 1986 film Blue Velvet tackles this theme with ferocity. At times, it seems that there are 2 completely different movies playing over top of each other, artfully conveying that the evils of this world are always working behind the scenes of quaint American suburbia. Displaying pure evil on screen is not a task to be taken lightly, if not executed with care and precision, it can come off as hokey or downright offensive. The same goes for displaying pure good on screen, and Lynch's filmography has shown that he has clearly honed in on the concepts of primal fear and everlasting good. However, I find this to be one of the rare examples where Lynch comes up short of transcending the medium. I found some of his displays of evil to be almost disrespectful to the actors and actresses involved in the film. This does not mean the film is not worthwhile; in fact, I find the film to be essential viewing if you are truly interested the artistic mind that is David Lynch. But this movie is also not without its shortcomings.
Before I get too deep in my reaction to the film, let me provide a quick outline of the plot as best I can (attempting to provide a summary of a Lynch movie is very similar to telling someone about a dream you just had): the story follows Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan) and his new girl, Sandy Williams (Laura Dern), as the 2 high-schoolers set off to solve the mystery of the visually disturbing severed ear that Jeffrey finds in the middle of a field by his house. Their findings eventually lead them to the apartment of a sensual night club singer by the name of Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini) in which Jeffrey brashly decides to break in and spy on her (is he a detective? Is he a pervert?). From there, the mystery unravels into the surreal. It turns out that Dorothy is being held captive by a terrifying sociopath who goes by the name of Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper), whose aesthetic reminds me of a sex-crazed Darth Vader (you'll understand once you see it). Frank is sexually obsessed with Dorothy and kidnaps her child and husband in order to keep her around as his own personal sex slave. I won't go any further than that, partially to avoid spoilers, but also because this movie gets so insanely weird that a written summary just wouldn't do it justice.
David Lynch is a known master of "the feels" and I never felt that my emotional reactions weren't exactly what the director was trying to get me to feel. Discomfort, disgust, outrage, and bewilderment are clearly what Lynch is trying to get his audience to emote during Dorothy and Jeffrey's apartment scenes. But if you're going to put both an actress and character through such brutal humiliation and torture, there had better be a damn good reason to show such awful things on screen. I honestly don't believe a good enough reason ever clicked for me; I get that I'm supposed to be shocked and horrified by what is happening to Rossellini's character, but her entire relationship with Kyle MacLachlan's character is an incoherent farce. I did not find their relationship entirely believable, the 'good-ol-boy' meets promiscuous older woman is grounds for great storytelling, but Rossellini is not just some kinky cradle-robber, she is a rape-victim clearly going through intense mental anguish. I found the scene where MacLachlan is sitting on his bed recounting the recent horrors that he has seen happen to Rossellini, as well as what he himself has done to her, to be emotionally confounding and offensive. The film is clearly asking us to feel some sense of pity for MacLachlan, who has seen some terrible atrocities committed in the past few days, but I feel no pity for the character whatsoever. Maybe don't engage in a sexual relationship with someone you saw get brutally raped less than 30 seconds ago. Maybe he shouldn't continue to complicate the situation by constantly showing up at her apartment even though it's been made clear that bad things will happen if he gets caught - not just to him, but to Rossellini, as well. That's really my only hang-up with the film, but it's a pretty big one considering Rossellini and MacLachlan's relationship is a large part of the movie.
In terms of sheer presence, Dennis Hopper's performance is momentous and deserves the highest praise. I was never abused as a child, but I imagine being in the presence of a monstrous father is quite similar to being in the presence of Frank Booth. Always having to watch what you say, being ever vigilant as to not piss him off to avoid the wrath that is sure to come if even one wrong word is spoken. Laura Dern is magnificent, and she is a pure force of good in the film. Without her, this film would be relentlessly bleak and shallow, but she adds an extra layer of innocence to the movie that is desperately needed when such heavy subject matter is taking place in other scenes. The ending of the film is transcendent and has everything one looks for from Lynch. It was surreal, deeply disturbing, and surprisingly suspenseful. I would love to see Lynch venture into the world of neo-noir again; he clearly has a firm grasp on how to portray that classic vibe.
I can honestly say I don't want to watch this film again any time soon, as it is quite disturbing, but I think that's the point... At least I hope so for Lynch's sake.