Blue VelvetEveryone lives in two worlds, but most people only see the one in the light. Blue Velvet is a film of two worlds--be it the quaint, idyllic world of Lumberton, the world best known thus far to young college student, Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan), or the dark, shadow world of evil terrors which lurk in the night, the world of the psychotic maniac, Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper). When Jeffrey discovers a disembodied ear in the fields around his neighborhood, he is slowly drawn by the undertow of that world of mystery and darkness, finding himself submerged in an alien realm, in over his head.
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Jeffrey's return to his Mayberry-esque hometown is to attend to his father's business, whose heart attack leaves him hospitalized. But the truth is that Jeffrey's bored at home; one suspects that he's been bored for a while. He behaves normally enough from the onset, even shortly after finding the ear and turning it into Lumberton Police Detective John Williams (George Dickerson). But curiosity was always going to get the better of Jeffrey, and his thoughts return to the mystery of the ear. He doesn't just wonder about the answers, he needs to know what lurks behind the curtain. In a shot which represents the turning point for the desire to investigate--one which roots its way deep into his psyche--there is a deep zoom into the desiccated ear; it is a shot which is reversed later with Jeffrey's own ear in the denouement. Such an enigmatic shot is not uncommon for the surreal and symbolic auteur, David Lynch. One interpretation is that from this point, this story might exist largely in Jeffrey's imagination, a desire for something more exciting than his humdrum, boring routine; I prefer the approach that we have changed our battleground to be that of the id, the desires which motivate us to act even at our own detriment. But dreams are a key theme in Blue Velvet, and the events which unfold feel surreal--dream-like.
These two worlds of the film are also like night and day; in the day, we are awake and are rational, but in dreams, we act based on primal impulses in the dark. In a way, Frank could be seen as a shadow self of Jeffrey, a volatile ball of rage designed to shock and appall. After Jeffrey is told by Detective Williams' daughter, Sandy (Laura Dern), the name of a nightclub singer, Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini), and that she is involved in the investigation about the ear, Jeffrey has the bold idea to sneak into her apartment to poke and prod, to discover what secrets she holds, to appease his curiosity. But when he is discovered and forced to hide in her closet, Frank shows up and violently abuses and violates Dorothy. She comments about his "infection" being with her; although not directly discussed, the infection is his violence and his corruption, the depravity which he is a scion for, which he has left Dorothy afflicted with. When Dorothy catches Jeffrey, she threatens him and says the same kinds of lines which Frank says to her, ordering him not to "look at her", a subconscious reflection of shame disguised as control. After his harrowing yet also darkly seductive encounter with Dorothy, Jeffrey should be scared straight; but he returns out of either a sense of heroism to help her, but more likely his piqued curiosity. In short time, Jeffrey and Dorothy begin an affair, but Dorothy prods him to abuse her, and she even manages to provoke him into slapping her, which elicits a smirk of satisfaction. In essence, the slap is the mark of the infection; Frank's slap becomes Dorothy's slap becomes Jeffrey's. Even when Jeffrey's dark secrets and affair with Dorothy are revealed to Sandy in a shocking display, Sandy slaps Jeffrey, showing that his secrets and lies have also tainted her own view of the world in part. Dorothy is not evil, but she is sick, according to the logic of Blue Velvet. She has been exposed to violence, and it has left its mark in a psychological way. Frank exploits Dorothy by keeping her family hostage, and subjecting her to degrading humiliations to appease his fetishes. Jeffrey himself is compelled by his own (albeit more benign) fetishes, such as his voyeuristic need to uncover the secrets of this mystery. Sandy observes of him at the early stages of his amateur sleuthing that she's "not sure if he's a detective or a pervert".
Blue Velvet intentionally baits the audience with the premise that it is a virtually harmless detective story, a la Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys (except for that rotting ear, covered in ants). Jeffrey and Sandy are two nice kids who get in too deep; it is a set up to draw the diabolical contrast between the two worlds of Lumberton, a contrast as sharp as a switchblade. In trademark David Lynch style, Blue Velvet is injected with a weird kind of black humor, be it the Jack Russell Terrier drinking from the hose of Jeffrey's fallen father, or the scene where Jeffrey and Sandy conspire to gain admittance into Dorothy's apartment, posing as a pest control technician and a Jehovah's witness. It's interesting to watch Blue Velvet and see just what Sandy and Dorothy both represent for Jeffrey. Sandy first emerges from the darkness at the beginning of Jeffrey's obsession like a ray of light, with her blonde hair and pink dress. Her appearance evokes nostalgia for Jeffrey, for his home town, like a beacon calling for him to return from the darkness before it is too late. He has feelings for her before he realizes them; even a subtle gesture to guard her from catcallers in a car passing by shows his desire to protect her. On the other hand, he is drawn by animal magnetism to Dorothy, her velvet darkness, wild and unpredictable, the polar opposite femme fatale. She conjures forth a side of him he didn't realize was there. Jeffrey even knows that she is married and a mother prior to beginning his affair, but goes along anyway, not out of inconsideration but animal lust. For Jeffrey, the kinds of suspense and danger he only knew was from the kind of film noir movies his mother watches on the TV. In a way, Blue Velvet plays a bit like film noir, albeit from the somewhat alien perspective of the kind but somewhat hapless Jeffrey. It is looming with shadows and darkness, as well as moral ambiguity; even the score by Angelo Badalamenti evokes this. Dorothy's residence is like something from a movie or a dream, with empty gray halls--like the shadowy slumber what comes before sleep--and a bright red living room which somehow feels a bit like a stage.
The existence of evil and the benevolence of love are also represented by insects and robins. When Jeffrey's father collapses, the camera zooms to reveal the hideous vermin skittering beneath the green grass. Of course the ear is infested with ants, and even Frank's leather jacket and portable respirator give him an insectile visage. Jeffrey's excuse to gain access to Dorothy's apartment is under the auspices of spraying for bugs. The robins, on the other hand, come from a dream, which Sandy relates to Jeffrey like a holy testament of goodness--right outside of a church, no less--where she describes the emergence of the birds as a heralding of love, the force which can dispel the darkness. In one of the final shots, the message that good has triumphed is represented by the robin bearing a beetle within its beak. (And yet the fact that the robin is clearly artificial always gives me pause at this interpretation, suggesting something cynical all the same.) Sandy, ever the conscience of the duo, asks Jeffrey if he likes mysteries as much as he does after he reveals that he will continue farther down the rabbit hole. He speaks true and admits that he does; and this is true for the audience of Blue Velvet as well. Blue Velvet beguiles and beckons the audience ever deeper into the darkness, to peer deeper into the abyss. But as Jeffrey learns, one must beware when peering into the abyss, for the abyss also gazes back, in the form of a "candy-colored clown" with a preference for Pabst Blue Ribbon over Heineken.
Recommended for: Fans of a psychologically-stirring thriller and detective story, one where the tone and implications about the world we know versus the one we know less unsettle and evoke a sense of fear at the presence of a monstrous villain and abuser like Frank.
These two worlds of the film are also like night and day; in the day, we are awake and are rational, but in dreams, we act based on primal impulses in the dark. In a way, Frank could be seen as a shadow self of Jeffrey, a volatile ball of rage designed to shock and appall. After Jeffrey is told by Detective Williams' daughter, Sandy (Laura Dern), the name of a nightclub singer, Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini), and that she is involved in the investigation about the ear, Jeffrey has the bold idea to sneak into her apartment to poke and prod, to discover what secrets she holds, to appease his curiosity. But when he is discovered and forced to hide in her closet, Frank shows up and violently abuses and violates Dorothy. She comments about his "infection" being with her; although not directly discussed, the infection is his violence and his corruption, the depravity which he is a scion for, which he has left Dorothy afflicted with. When Dorothy catches Jeffrey, she threatens him and says the same kinds of lines which Frank says to her, ordering him not to "look at her", a subconscious reflection of shame disguised as control. After his harrowing yet also darkly seductive encounter with Dorothy, Jeffrey should be scared straight; but he returns out of either a sense of heroism to help her, but more likely his piqued curiosity. In short time, Jeffrey and Dorothy begin an affair, but Dorothy prods him to abuse her, and she even manages to provoke him into slapping her, which elicits a smirk of satisfaction. In essence, the slap is the mark of the infection; Frank's slap becomes Dorothy's slap becomes Jeffrey's. Even when Jeffrey's dark secrets and affair with Dorothy are revealed to Sandy in a shocking display, Sandy slaps Jeffrey, showing that his secrets and lies have also tainted her own view of the world in part. Dorothy is not evil, but she is sick, according to the logic of Blue Velvet. She has been exposed to violence, and it has left its mark in a psychological way. Frank exploits Dorothy by keeping her family hostage, and subjecting her to degrading humiliations to appease his fetishes. Jeffrey himself is compelled by his own (albeit more benign) fetishes, such as his voyeuristic need to uncover the secrets of this mystery. Sandy observes of him at the early stages of his amateur sleuthing that she's "not sure if he's a detective or a pervert".
Blue Velvet intentionally baits the audience with the premise that it is a virtually harmless detective story, a la Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys (except for that rotting ear, covered in ants). Jeffrey and Sandy are two nice kids who get in too deep; it is a set up to draw the diabolical contrast between the two worlds of Lumberton, a contrast as sharp as a switchblade. In trademark David Lynch style, Blue Velvet is injected with a weird kind of black humor, be it the Jack Russell Terrier drinking from the hose of Jeffrey's fallen father, or the scene where Jeffrey and Sandy conspire to gain admittance into Dorothy's apartment, posing as a pest control technician and a Jehovah's witness. It's interesting to watch Blue Velvet and see just what Sandy and Dorothy both represent for Jeffrey. Sandy first emerges from the darkness at the beginning of Jeffrey's obsession like a ray of light, with her blonde hair and pink dress. Her appearance evokes nostalgia for Jeffrey, for his home town, like a beacon calling for him to return from the darkness before it is too late. He has feelings for her before he realizes them; even a subtle gesture to guard her from catcallers in a car passing by shows his desire to protect her. On the other hand, he is drawn by animal magnetism to Dorothy, her velvet darkness, wild and unpredictable, the polar opposite femme fatale. She conjures forth a side of him he didn't realize was there. Jeffrey even knows that she is married and a mother prior to beginning his affair, but goes along anyway, not out of inconsideration but animal lust. For Jeffrey, the kinds of suspense and danger he only knew was from the kind of film noir movies his mother watches on the TV. In a way, Blue Velvet plays a bit like film noir, albeit from the somewhat alien perspective of the kind but somewhat hapless Jeffrey. It is looming with shadows and darkness, as well as moral ambiguity; even the score by Angelo Badalamenti evokes this. Dorothy's residence is like something from a movie or a dream, with empty gray halls--like the shadowy slumber what comes before sleep--and a bright red living room which somehow feels a bit like a stage.
The existence of evil and the benevolence of love are also represented by insects and robins. When Jeffrey's father collapses, the camera zooms to reveal the hideous vermin skittering beneath the green grass. Of course the ear is infested with ants, and even Frank's leather jacket and portable respirator give him an insectile visage. Jeffrey's excuse to gain access to Dorothy's apartment is under the auspices of spraying for bugs. The robins, on the other hand, come from a dream, which Sandy relates to Jeffrey like a holy testament of goodness--right outside of a church, no less--where she describes the emergence of the birds as a heralding of love, the force which can dispel the darkness. In one of the final shots, the message that good has triumphed is represented by the robin bearing a beetle within its beak. (And yet the fact that the robin is clearly artificial always gives me pause at this interpretation, suggesting something cynical all the same.) Sandy, ever the conscience of the duo, asks Jeffrey if he likes mysteries as much as he does after he reveals that he will continue farther down the rabbit hole. He speaks true and admits that he does; and this is true for the audience of Blue Velvet as well. Blue Velvet beguiles and beckons the audience ever deeper into the darkness, to peer deeper into the abyss. But as Jeffrey learns, one must beware when peering into the abyss, for the abyss also gazes back, in the form of a "candy-colored clown" with a preference for Pabst Blue Ribbon over Heineken.
Recommended for: Fans of a psychologically-stirring thriller and detective story, one where the tone and implications about the world we know versus the one we know less unsettle and evoke a sense of fear at the presence of a monstrous villain and abuser like Frank.