#70: David Lynch’s The Elephant Man
This review was originally posted on Twitter on March 16, 2019.
Initial release: October 3, 1980
Director: David Lynch
The late 1970s through the early 80s are a key period in film cinema, an age where filmmakers were allowed to indulge their inner auteurs and create ground-breaking, experimental films. Enter a surrealist director who does the opposite. Hot off his aggressively weird Eraserhead, David Lynch, who was still a relative unknown in Hollywood at the time, might seem like an odd choice now for such a film as The Elephant Man, and yet while his directorial style is obvious, he otherwise plays it completely straight.
Lynch’s style is still evident however in the way he cuts quickly between one scene and another, his trademark surrealism bookending the film, and long, lingering shots of a photo of the title character’s late mother, specifically her eyes. Other than that, it’s as straight a drama as you can expect, based on the real-life Joseph Merrick (renamed John in the film,) a severely deformed man who was employed in a workhouse before being hired as a sideshow freak and eventually coming to the attention of Frederick Treves, a surgeon at the London Hospital in the 1880s. While the actual order of events of Merrick’s life have been moved around a bit for dramatic purposes, it’s otherwise presented fairly close to how it was described in Treves’ memoirs.
In the film, Merrick (an unrecognizable John Hurt) languishes under an abusive manager until he is rescued by Treves (Anthony Hopkins, looking practically fetal), who is first interested in him as a medical curiosity but later gives him a permanent home in London Hospital. (An aside: This film is responsible for the creation of the “best makeup” category at the Academy Awards following complaints that the makeup work, which closely modeled the appearance of the real Merrick, was not going to get recognition — after all, it took 8 hours to put on!) While the hospital is not equipped for incurable cases, Merrick is considered a special exception due to the extent of his deformities. He reveals himself to be an intelligent, thoughtful man, quick to emotion and glad to be free of a life of abuse. He soon becomes a popular figure in London high society, but the question quickly arises: is he still just a spectacle, just for the rich this time? The film bounces between him, Treves and his former manager, who wants him back so he can continue to exploit him for money.
One of the more unusual decisions lynch made was to shoot the film in black and white. While black and white, today, is recognized for its artistic value, shooting a film this way forty years ago was running the risk of alienating audiences. (Even now it’s rather niche, still.) This has the effect of giving the film a more old-school feel, very much in line with Lynch’s fixation on the 1950s and the pop culture of the era. Other than Lynch’s directorial quirks, the film overall has the vibe of having been shot in the era, rather than in 1980.
I really have to talk about my main issue with this film: the entire time I watched it, I kept thinking of the “Simple Jack” running gag in the film Tropic Thunder. While that was specifically a slam on the stinker I Am Sam, it was also a commentary on disability film. In short, the “Simple Jack” subplot is about films like The Elephant Man, where able-bodied actors play the role of disabled persons to earn accolades and enlighten an able-bodied audience. These films are, at their heart, suffering porn so folks can feel good about themselves for watching. The Elephant Man itself even seems to be ironically self-aware of this kind of problem as Merrick is paraded about in front of the masses and then high society, but it does this as it parades an able-bodied (and quite attractive) actor under heavy makeup in front of a movie audience. And while Hurt might be unrecognizable under all that makeup, that didn’t stop him from getting nominations and awards for his role as Merrick. It shows that amidst the condescending fawning society gives disabled people (like me), we’re still not trusted to represent ourselves.
Even today Merrick is paraded about in school curriculum (typically via a 1979 stage play, also titled The Elephant Man but unrelated to the film) as a kind of Very Special Lesson about treating people with physical disabilities, often without any thought to their own dignity. And that’s really the problem with films like this: it’s never about the disabled person’s dignity, it’s never about them coming to grips with their disability. It’s about how much they inspire other people through their suffering.
On its technical and artistic merits it’s a fine film. Lynch is a great director as always. And to be fair, films like this weren’t typically considered distasteful in 1980, and it does manage to keep the focus on Merrick, not treves. But it’s still inspiration porn.
