Blue Velvet

[StevePulaski]

Blue Velvet (1986)
Directed by: David Lynch

Kyle MacLachlan and Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet.

Rating: ★★★½

Upon returning to his home in North Carolina when his father suffers a serious stroke, college student Jeffrey Beaumont's (Kyle MacLachlan) romantic re-immersion into his cozy locale is put to a grinding halt when he discovers a severed ear in the middle of a grassy field. Jeffrey tells his girlfriend Sandy Williams (Laura Dern) about the discovery after taking it to the police, and the two speculate that it might belong to the neighborhood lounge-singer Dorothy Vallens' (Isabella Rossellini) missing husband.

Jeffrey impersonates an exterminator in order to steal the spare-key to Dorothy's apartment, eventually coming back to snoop around only to be cornered into her closet when she returns quicker than expected. Dorothy discovers Jeffrey and makes him commit to stripping in addition to some odd sexual behaviors before forcing him back into the closet when Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper) arrives and wastes no time beginning to sexually abuse Dorothy into sadomasochistic acts. Frank, who is usually inhaling an unnamed gas to accompany his sexual proclivities, manipulates Dorothy as Jeffrey watches from the unseen blinds of the closet-door, now officially involved in a seedy underbelly of erotic crime and kidnapping.

David Lynch's Blue Velvet is the stylist's most coherent project I've yet to see, unburdened by the redundant symbolism seen in Eraserhead and far less muddled than Mulholland Drive. In addition to being his most linear, Blue Velvet allows us to be immersed far more easily into the limitless boundaries of Lynch's crafty direction and plunge into the filthy realm of society.

From the first frames, showing a sun-soaked suburban landscape ala Edward Scissorhands, Lynch holds our hand and coddles our thoughts and perceptions of this sleepy town. There's reason to believe that Jeffrey and the all-too-perfect Sandy haven't been challenged in their own personal perceptions of their town, or for-that-matter the world, assuming it's a boring place for folks near retirement age and instead opting to go away for school to experience life anew. Jeffrey's return is captured like a college student getting out into "the real world," leaving behind an occasionally coddling classroom setting for one where sickness and depravity fills the air like an unshakable stench.

Lynch's bait-and-switch murder-mystery becomes just as much about showcasing this depravity as finding the source of the symbolic device at the center of the picture - the severed ear, littered with black ants, to paint a more detailed image. It's the moment that Dennis Hopper, acting brilliantly against type, enters, huffing gas through a plastic mask, swearing profusely, and slapping Rossellini around that the film is flipped and we are all of a sudden watching a totally different work from a more unsavory perspective.

Blue Velvet is liable to get you going in the matter of an instant. Ordinarily, one is too busy either analyzing the relevance of Lynch's narrative or piecing together plot-points in order to tie together some semblance of coherency in his works that they miss the directorial and screenwriting graces he is more than capable of erecting. By dialing back and making a film that's both easy to follow and richly layered, Lynch's capabilities as an atmospheric filmmaker emerge in a way that inspires more than just passing appreciation but a uniformly well-conceived thrill.

Kyle MacLachlan functions well as the Lynchian character, usually the straight, black-haired, unassuming male protagonist in most of Lynch's features that closely resembles the director himself. MacLachlan is ordinarily effective in small roles in off-kilter works such as Showgirls, but when given the driver's seat in films like this and The Trigger Effect, his likable everyman qualities manifest into something and someone worth rooting for. To contrast the predictable personality of MacLachlan and his character is Isabella Rossellini, a French model who commits to a role that has her character beaten, humiliated, and mercilessly torn down in a very realistic manner. Rossellini shows bravery in stepping out of her comfort zone, ripping up the beautiful pictures of her in so many words to give us a complete reversal of what we had come to expect from the recognizable model at this point in her life.

Then there's Hopper, who, as stated, goes against his conventional role and bounces back with an elite performance of incalculable adrenaline and anger. He's as vicious as he is viciously compelling, gnawing the words right off his tongue and teeth with a rattling snarl that makes them land on the ears of the characters with a thud. He's frightening and cantankerous, a time-bomb of a villain with a quick trigger-finger and an even quicker ability to pummel you with his demeanor just as well as his fists. Many people like to remember the famous "Pabst Blue Ribbon" scene, but for me, his presence is most notably felt during an extended sequence in a 1970s-centric club where one of his goons lip-syncs Roy Orbison's song "In Dreams." Hopper's movements and swaying has never felt so vocal.

Blue Velvet does a splendid job of getting us invested in this crime-world, throwing us between a realm where we can laugh moments before wincing or reacting in horror to the events on-screen. Like the best thrillers, we feel as if we've been put in danger without physically being in the presence of harm's way. Its plethora of symbolic images and metaphorical subtext deters one from believing that Lynch sold out or squandered the narrative's (or his) potential, and the performances, most notably from Rossellini and Hopper, connect well-enough for an artfully composed and remarkably harrowing film to prosper.

Starring: Kyle MacLachan, Isabella Rossellini, Laura Dern, Dennis Hopper, and Dean Stockwell. Directed by: David Lynch.