Film Review: Thirteen

  "Thirteen"

 **** (out of ****)

A young girl stares directly into the camera, holding the side of her face, as if she's discovering a new land. She declares she can't feel anything and wants someone to hit her. A hand from off camera smacks her. Eventually both individuals are revealed to us as two teenage girls. They start taking turns slapping and punching each other, while hysterically laughing.

This unsettling opening sequence immediately establishes "Thirteen" (2003) will be a film about abuse and a plea for help, as the lead character looks into the camera at us. We are the ones the girl is speaking to and we must witness her downward spiral. 

The troubled teens are Tracy (Evan Rachel Wood) and Evie (Nikki Reed). On it's surface it would appear to be a tale of an innocent girl (Tracy) who gets mixed-up with the wrong crowd and falls under the harmful influence of a popular bad girl (Evie).

But "Thirteen" isn't a simple tale and first time director Catherine Hardwicke recognizes the complexity of the situation. There are no "good" or "bad" characters. Instead there are individuals who are products of their environments.

The scene is set by establishing Tracy is a sweet, innocent kid. She even puts her hair up in pigtails, walks the family dog, and has a friendly relationship with her mom, Mel (Holly  Hunter). Unlike some of the other girls at Tracy's school, she doesn't wear revealing clothes. This makes Tracy and her friends a complete contrast to Evie and her friends, who are starting to get all of the boys' attention.

Little seeds however are being planted. Mel, who works from home as a hairdresser, appears to be a generous, caring mom but we learn she had an addiction problem in her past. Tracy writes poems, which she openly shares with her mom, that are deep and about emotional pain. You don't create art about pain unless you are feeling something inside. What was the mother-child relationship like when Mel was an addict? We further find out mom and dad are divorced. That affects children too. It all subtly begins to paint a picture. How much emphasis the viewer is supposed to give all of this, isn't quite clear yet at this point. The most alarming discovery though is that Tracy has a history of self-mutilation. Keep in mind this is all pre-Evie.

Evie on the other hand, outwardly seems to be the typical "bad girl". "Thirteen" and Hardwicke could have easily left it at that. Instead we learn a bit about Evie's home life. The make-up, the clothing, the piercings, it is a reflection of an unhealthy environment that Evie lives in. She says her mother passed away and she currently lives with a cousin, Brooke (Deborah Kara Unger). Brooke is not portrayed as "mother material". She doesn't check in on Evie's whereabouts, she doesn't keep a nice home, she day drinks beer, and allows Evie to do so as well. It's not a mother / daughter or adult / child relationship as much as it is a roommate situation.

A lot of this deals exclusively with the home but there are outside pressures as well. Hardwicke doesn't dwell on it but there is one sequence in which its significance doesn't escape us. Tracy is riding a bus and we see billboards advertising beauty products with sexy images. It creates an external ideal women and young girls must live up to and strive to achieve.

That ideal leads to another subtle touch Hardwicke gives the film. Young women first becoming aware of the male gaze. Evie relishes the attention boys give her. The beauty products and billboards are examples of a male standard of beauty. It's not a declarative theme in "Thirteen" but its there and it motivates these young girls - subconsciously or not - to behave the way they do. We see it in Evie and even in Brooke, who gets plastic surgery done. It is a life long cycle women must wrestle with. 

This speaks to one of the strengths of "Thirteen". It has an intimate, lived in knowledge about women and teenagers. It is the result of not only having a film directed by a woman but a script co-written by Hardwicke and co-star Nikki Reed. Hardwicke dated Reed's father for a time and after that relationship ended, Hardwicke and Reed remained in contact. It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to believe the both of them brought personal details to this story. 

The personal knowledge and perspective that Hardwicke and Reed bring to this story helps explain why "Thirteen" doesn't pull punches and is able to widen the scope of this dilemma beyond easy finger pointing. A lot of deliberate care was given to these characters, especially Mel. Yes, Mel is seems to be an attentive mother but where was she when her daughter started to spiral downward? She witnesses the change in behavior. She suspects her daughter may be shoplifting. She may even be aware Evie is manipulating her with stories of abuse back home but she doesn't firmly take charge of the situation. If "Thirteen" teaches us anything it is that children need guidance. They know when an adult or parent is absent. At her lowest point, Tracy directly confronts her mother asking, where were you? Mom's answer honestly, isn't a great defense but a relatable one.

It adds another layer to "Thirteen" that should prevent viewers from too quickly passing judgement on Brooke and Mel and dividing them into "good" and "bad" as well. Brooke is absent and appears to be in no position to take care of a child but at one point Mel wanted her ex-husband to take Tracy because she couldn't handle raising her alone. Yes, Brooke allows Evie to drink beer but Mel allows her son to smoke pot in the house. 

It is because of these nuanced touches many critics overlooked signs and boxed the film into an easy interpretation. In Roger Ebert's Chicago Sun-Times review, he described "Thirteen" as  "This is a frightening story of how a nice girl falls under the influence of a wild girl and barely escapes big, big, big trouble". He was also fascinated by the background story between Hardwicke and Reed. Michael Wilmington, at the Chicago Tribune, did a slightly better job capturing the essence of the film but never quite spelled it out and generalized it as a story about teenage life, writing the film is a "first rate movie about relationships of modern parents and kids, and the sometimes fragile and delusional bridges that connect their worlds." But "Thirteen" isn't just about teenagers, it's about the unique experience of young girls becoming teenagers and navigating into the world of womanhood with the weight of society and peer pressure on their shoulders. 

What may have distracted critics and viewers from seeing the broader picture was the gritty style "Thirteen" was filmed in. The film is a clash between docu-drama and MTV music video - back in the days when MTV showed music videos. It is a jittery, in-your-face style that is sometimes accentuated by rapid edits and dizzying camera techniques, such as when Hardwicke and cinematographer Elliot Davis have the camera sway back and forth to signify the instability of the characters. It would be easy enough to dismiss the film as little more than "shock value" because of this aesthetic and the film's content. A deeper reading and understanding of the film however shows us how the visuals match the subject matter.

By the end of "Thirteen" we see a major shift in the characters, causing us to flip everything we know about them. "Bad" characters become "good" and "good" characters get a smack of reality and must confront the disturbing future that may potentially await them. It is all a performance? A moment of clarity? In our hearts we want to believe it is a wake-up call, after spending so much time with these characters but the film's final image suggests a more harsh reality to me. Tracy is at a playground violently spinning on a roundabout. Her childhood has become chaotic. Her decisions today may anticipate the struggles of tomorrow, in many ways like her mother. She won't be a "bad" person but a woman who needs to take life one day at a time, fully aware she can slip into old habits at any given moment.

No praise of the film cannot mention the performances given by the cast. When "Thirteen" was released Wood was sixteen years old and Reed was fifteen. Their acting is remarkable. It's true that their age has something to do with that praise but that's because these are brave performances that asks an actress to go through a sweeping range of emotions in an extremely vulnerable and mature way that quite frankly several older actresses may not have been able to in such a convincing manner. These were star making performances. Holly Hunter does amazing work as well creating a sympathetic character despite some of her flaws. We can feel her heartache and desperation in many scenes. Hunter received the film's sole Academy Award nomination for best supporting actress. If it was up to me however, all three performances would have gotten nominated. Although Wood did receive a best actress Golden Globe nomination.

Critics didn't know what to expect from Hardwicke when "Thirteen" was released. As previously mentioned, this was her directorial debut after years of working as a production designer on a range of films including "Laurel Canyon" (2002) - her last film in this role before directing - "Vanilla Sky" (2001), and the infamous "Tank Girl" (1995). Hardwicke would continue to explore themes present in "Thirteen" in her following films such as "Lords of Dogtown" (2005) and the megahit "Twilight" (2008). For me however "Thirteen" has remained her best film and was one of the most impressive modern directorial debuts I have seen. When the film was released in 2003, I placed it on my year-end best list. It has remained with me ever since.

Film Review: Family Plot - 50th Anniversary

  "Family Plot"

 *** 1\2 (out of ****)

The film begins with a séance. This isn't any kind of séance. The scene isn't played for suspense or chills. This is a wild, comically exaggerated sequence. The psychic, a woman named Blanche (Barbara Harris) is in contact with the dead. Blanche changes her voice, signifying different people speaking through her, as her customer, an elderly wealthy woman (Cathleen Nesbitt) attentively listens on. The elderly woman speaks aloud, trying to connect the dots with what Blanche is saying. By doing so, she keeps giving Blanche just enough information to string the old lady along. Soon there's no doubt, we are witnessing a con in action.

That's how  Alfred Hitchcock opens "Family Plot" (1976), a film that is not only celebrating its 50th anniversary this year but also marked the end of the Master of Suspense's career.

I've chosen to emphasize this sequence because it not only sets the tone for the rest of the film but I think Hitchcock is having a little fun with his audience. To me, "Family Plot" is a self-aware film that juggles suspense and light-hearted comedic aspects effortlessly. This opening sequence establishes that the rest of the film will be about deception and con-artists. It mirrors the final image of the film perfectly,  humorously questioning what is real and what isn't? After all directors have been referred to as con-artists. What is it that great filmmakers do? They manipulate our emotions via lighting, cinematography, music...etc. Those are the tricks of the trade. Is Hitchcock poking at himself through the Blanche character? On some level, I think so.

It is largely because of the light-hearted, self-aware nature of "Family Plot", that it has generally been regarded by movie fans and critics as a "lesser" Hitchcock film. In fact a majority of Hitchcock's later works - "Torn Curtain" (1966), "Topaz" (1969), and "Marnie" (1964) -  were all seen as "second rate" at their time of release. "Family Plot" however has remained my favorite among the films the old Master released during this time. It is a minority opinion but a space I share with critics Jonathan Rosenbaum and Dave Kehr, who have defended the film. If anything stood out to critics during this time it would have been the film Hitchcock made prior to this one, "Frenzy" (1972). Many saw that as a return to form for Hitchcock.

What Hitchcock brings to "Family Plot" that makes it similar to his other films is the way he blends suspense and comedy. My favorite sequence in the entire film, and one I think displays this particular Hitchcock talent, involves Blanche and her boyfriend, George (Bruce Dern). They are driving on a narrow winding road. Their vehicle has been tampered with. The brakes no longer work, causing the vehicle to speed along. George makes sharp turns to avoid on coming traffic. Blanche is in hysterics, yelling and grabbing George for protection. He pleads with her to stop grabbing him. Hitchcock continuously switches between George and Blanche's antics to the road, putting us in the driver's seat. We suspect there will be a crash but what will cause it? Another car or Blanche? Hitchcock plays the audience beautifully by simultaneously building tension and defusing it.

Blanche and George have arrived at this moment when the elderly lady from the séance revealed she is looking for her long lost nephew. Years ago the lady had advised her sister to give up the child, since she was not married. With death approaching at the old lady's door, she wants to make amends and reconnect with her nephew in order to leave the family fortune to him. Given Blanche's "psychic ability", the lady will pay her handsomely if she can find the nephew. And so George, an actor who pays the bills by driving a cab, tries to hunt him down.

What is most striking about this set-up is Blanche and George never try to pass off George as the nephew and collect a double payday - the "finder's fee" and the eventual inheritance. That move would have completely altered the tone of the film and could have leaned heavily into flat-out comedy. Hitchcock and his screenwriter, Ernest Lehman - who is adapting Victor Canning's novel The Rainbird Pattern - have a motive for not going down this path. It's an oxymoron but Blanche and George are honest crooks. They are a small time racket compared to our other deceitful couple, Fran (Karen Black) and Arthur (William Devane). These two kidnap high profile individuals and ask for large ransoms. Arthur also makes a nice living running his own jewelry store. This contrast helps establish Blanche and George as our heroes and Fran and Arthur as the villains. And just so that idea is cemented in our heads, Hitchcock makes the obvious symbolic gesture of white representing good and black representing evil. The name Blanche means white in French and she even drives a white car. Fran and Arthur on the other hand are often seen wearing black. It's a bit simplistic but it gets the job done.

If "Family Plot" belongs to any film lineage, it wouldn't be the work of Hitchcock. I'd be more willing to compare it to the work of Ernst Lubitsch and films like "Trouble in Paradise" (1932) or Preston Sturges' "The Lady Eve" (1941). "Plot" is the story of two couples that engage in fraud and like those older movies speak in witty banter with dialogue peppered with double entendres. In the old days, Blanche would have been played by Carole Lombard and the sophisticated criminal / kidnapper Arthur would have been played by Herbert Marshall. Both of whom coincidentally did appear in a Hitchcock movie.  

This explains why audiences never warmed up to the film. Hitchcock represented suspense, thrilling sequences, voyeurism, and psychological tension. "Family Plot" is a melody in a different key. Audiences may have felt betrayed by Hitchcock in 1976 for not living up to his end of the bargain. Hitchcock was once quoted as saying, "I'm in competition with myself". Not only are the familiar themes missing, so too are the archetype characters - the wrongly accused everyman and the icy blonde.

Even here however, Hitchcock seems to be teasing us, twisting our expectations. The first time we see the Fran character she is wearing a black trench coat, dark glasses, and a black hat which reveals her blonde hair. Is she the traumatized, vulnerable blonde that occupied Hitchcock's films? Not so fast. The blonde hair is a wig. It lends itself to the deception theme of the film and deceives our expectations of a Hitchcock film.

Of course, Hitchcock isn't outright abandoning his usual archetype characters, he is merely presenting a variation on them. So while on the surface we have the exact opposite of the icy blonde in Barbara Harris' performance - she conceals none of her emotions with an icy exterior - she nevertheless performs the same function as most women in one of Hitchcock's films. She is an intelligent woman and an active participant in the plot, not a victim of it. Whereas Karen Black's character is a bit more of a mystery to the viewer. Together they combine all of the elements of the traditional Hitchcock women.

The same can be said of the men. Bruce Dern lacks the suave demeanor of Cary Grant but Dern is an everyman of a different era. He's a little rough around the edges, speaks in a more vulgar manner and is not exactly charming. Many of these characteristics belong to William Devane's character. But like all Hitchcock heroes, Dern is presented with a mystery he must solve and does so with his intelligence. 

This deviation of our character expectations may lead some to find them unconvincing or inappropriate for a Hitchcock movie. These characters don't belong in "Vertigo" (1958), that I grant you but Barbara Harris, Bruce Dern and the rest of the cast all do wonderful work by giving performances that match the tone of the material. I love a little touch Dern adds to the character of smoking a pipe. Throughout the film Dern has the pipe when snooping around. One critic didn't like this prop and dismissed it. I can't categorically confirm this but I thought Dern smokes the pipe because it is a cliché that detectives smoke them (a la Sherlock Holmes). And by giving the pipe that justification, I laugh when I see it. 

By 1976 Alfred Hitchcock had directed 56 feature-length films. At this point in his career the filmmaker had pretty much said all there was to be said on his favorite themes. He had earned the right to not only make a lark but also kid himself and the audience. In this sense, "Family Plot" feels more like a final film than "Frenzy" did, as some critics would have preferred. "Plot" shows Hitchcock playing with his own mythology, pulling the curtain on his legendary persona. And how do you end a self-referential film? With a wink of course! It's that knowing gesture, given by Blanche, that signals Hitchcock had been in on the gag the entire time. 

There was a period of time when Alfred Hitchcock was arguably one of the most famous filmmakers alive. He had gained prominence in  America during an era when directors weren't largely given credit or considered box-office names. It was still the time of the Hollywood studio system, where actors and actresses were the recognizable figures. In some cases even producers were known. For example, producer David O. Selznick was as much a creative force behind Hitchcock's first American film, "Rebecca" (1940) as the director was. And yet Hitchcock became a well known national figure.

The influence Hitchcock had on future filmmakers cannot be overstated. In particular two international filmmakers - Italy's Dario Argento and France's Claude Chabrol. Each was considered his country's version of Hitchcock. Because of filmmakers like Argento and Chabrol, and with the end of the production code, by the 1970s the thriller genre had begun to change, causing Hitchcock's brand of psychological thrillers to become considered old-fashion. Giallo and Argento's films in particular began to push the envelope on screen violence. Chabrol's films were more explicitly social and moral critiques, which was absent in Hitchcock's films. Those films focused more on psychological guilt. The old Master couldn't compete with these filmmakers and the new style the thriller was exploring. This wasn't because Hitchcock lacked talent but because this wasn't a reflection of his sensibilities as a filmmaker. Within this new environment all Hitchcock could do was take aim at himself and be playful. To that extent "Family Plot" works well and still shows the Master had some tricks left up his sleeve. What is interesting is Argento and Chabrol would also make self-referential films later in their careers. Two examples would be Argento's "Tenebrae" (1982) and Chabrol's "The Swindle" (1997). 

These comparisons would come up in critics' reviews, and unfortunately usually not to Hitchcock's advantage. Lets take Chicago Tribune movie critic Gene Siskel's "Family Plot" review as an example. He writes, "compare Hitchcock's "Family Plot" to Chabrol's recent "Just Before Nightfall", and the old master's work is revealed as feeble." Siskel goes on to state of Hitchcock, "It's disappointing then, to see him fill a psychological thriller - the film form he perfected - with insignificant, unreal characters". The review even criticizes the car sequence I described as "poorly edited" though a detailed explanation as to why that is, is not provided. The deepest insight Siskel attempts is "It's tempting to point out Hitchcock's use of mechanical doors as symbols of the mechanistic laws of nature, but to indulge in that sort of thing is only to gild Hitchcock's lilliputian achievement."

Gene Siskel was hardly the only critic to disapprove of Hitchcock's film. Writing for Film Comment, the critic Jonathan Rosenbaum called out the reaction his fellow critics were greeting the film with. "To judge from a lot of local remarks," he says "this gem is apparently one of the Master's lightweights". Rosenbaum further explains "Three separate friends have complained that the sequence with Barbara Harris and Bruce Dern in the brakeless car is "embarrassing": I'm not sure whether this means corny or old-fashion or something else".

While I admit "Family Plot" is not as influential as "Psycho" (1960) or "Vertigo", in some small way I believe "Plot" did have an impact on film culture. Thrillers and horror films in the following decade did lean into comedy and self-referential humor. Brian De Palma is an example of an American filmmaker that was influenced by Hitchcock, as seen in such films as "Sisters" (1973) and "Obsession" (1976). But look at De Palma's "Body Double" (1984) and notice how the tone is more playful, poking fun not only at the thriller genre but Hollywood itself. "Family Plot" alone didn't cause this change but it was one ingredient in the "cultural stew" bringing about this shift in the genre. Does it say anything that the following year Mel Brooks would release his spoof "High Anxiety" (1977)?

Some noticed the shift and got the joke, understanding what Hitchcock and "Family Plot" were up to. The critic Penelope Gilliat - she was the other movie critic at the New Yorker - described the film as "one of the saltiest and most endearing he has ever directed." The most glowing review of the film that I've ever read was written by Chicago Reader critic Dave Kehr. Kehr would concede "Plot" was "second-rate" Hitchcock but actually penned the following sentences, "But second-rate Hitchcock is still about ten times more interesting than first-rate Altman, Coppola, or Scorsese. There are things in Family Plot that we haven't seen in an American film in a long time; things like care, precision, and detail." You won't be surprised to know Kehr would go on to declare "Family Plot" as the best film of 1976! Other critics that also placed it on their year-end best lists included Andrew Sarris and Rosenbaum.

What this proves is that even a "slight" Hitchcock film still has a lot to say about the filmmaker, Hollywood, and the culture around it. It can be argued that "Family Plot" was a reflection of the changing times.

"Family Plot" isn't a perfect film but it is one of Hitchcock's stronger films from the era. Because it played around with audience's expectations, its reputation is mixed, but Hitchcock never intended for this film to be approached in the same manner as his other films. I want to believe after fifty years, viewers may recognize what Hitchcock's intentions were but sadly, the internet is full of modern comments from people calling it a "lesser" film. If you can meet "Family Plot" at its level, its a pretty fun ride! 

Film Review: Blue Velvet - 40th Anniversary

 "Blue Velvet"

  **** (out of ****)

It's a strange world says one of the characters in David Lynch's "Blue Velvet" (1986). That is an understatement, especially in the cinematic universe of the acclaimed filmmaker.

Lynch died last year in January at the age of 78 and his "Blue Velvet" is celebrating its 40th anniversary this year. I wanted to take this opportunity to combine both of these occasions and honor Lynch and this particular film. 

The first time I saw a David Lynch film was back in 2001 with the release of "Mulholland Dr.". I vividly remember several details of the event. I was eighteen years old and was very curious to see the film after reading a few good reviews. Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert even wrote a glowing review for the film, which was unusual because with the exception of "The Straight Story" (1999), Ebert had not been a fan of Lynch's work. To give my story some local flavor, a friend and I took the number eleven Lincoln bus and went to the old Biograph Theater (the bus doesn't run that far anymore and the theater is now called the Victory Gardens Biograph Theater) and caught a matinee. 

I didn't have expectations for what I was about to see because I genuinely didn't know what to expect. Within minutes of "Mulholland Dr." two simultaneous thoughts started swimming in my head - "what the heck is this film?" and "Gosh, how is this going to end?" The acting and dialogue seemed almost laughable to me. I didn't know who Naomi Watts or Laura Harring were at the time. I immediately got the impression they were a couple of amateurs but thought to myself, this Watts person might be able to get someplace with more experience (I'm embarrassed to write that now. She has since become one of my favorite actresses). Practically everything about the movie came off as second rate to me. Was this a put on or were these people acting their best? I walked out of the theater absolutely fascinated by what I had seen and took the critical stance that filmmaker David Lynch was a cross between John Waters and Federico Fellini. I went on to declare "Mulholland Dr." as one of the best films of the year and later, when I started writing professionally, included it in my list as one of the best films of the decade.

With my newfound enthusiasm for Lynch, I wanted to continue my high so the next film I watched was "Blue Velvet". I had known the film by name only, having walked passed it at various movie rental stores but never had much of an interest to rent it. Now you couldn't stop me from picking it up. In it's own way "Mulholland Dr." prepared me for "Blue Velvet". I quickly recognized the "second rate" theatrics I saw in "Drive" were not exclusive to that film. It was in fact the Lynch style. I instantly detected those elements in "Velvet". I further noticed a Lynch theme, the conflict between beauty and the grotesque. In "Drive" it was Hollywood clashing with a nightmarish murder story and in "Velvet" it was a picture perfect image of suburbia colliding against an ugly underground dealing with kidnapping and murder. Lynch visually captured this at the beginning of "Blue Velvet" when we see nicely planted flowers as the camera zooms in going into the dirt, literally "underground". Lynch wants to break away from the veneer of prettiness.

As I watched "Velvet" again, for the umpteenth time, in preparation for this review, I remembered the ambiguity of the film's setting. Yes, it's set in Small Town U.S.A. but what year are we in? Lynch deliberately doesn't emphasize a time period. "Blue Velvet" blurs a 1950s sensibility opposite the modernness of the 1980s. While other critics have acknowledged this contrast they explain it as Lynch's way of creating a "timeless" story. That's not a bad interpretation but I think it goes deeper than that. Lynch, I believe, is making a social commentary not just on suburbia but finds a link between the 1950s and the 1980s. Beneath each decade's surface level optimism and congenial leaders there lies a violent society - segregation in the '50s and crime in the inner cities in the '80s and the crack epidemic. "Blue Velvet" may not seem political to an unsuspecting viewer but it is dealing with issues topical in Reagan's  America. 

It's an interpretation that has the benefit of hindsight and one that has been gaining traction over the years in retrospective viewings thanks to writers like Jenna Johnson. She wrote on the website Medium in 2019 - "Blue Velvet was made in a complex moment in American cultural history. The film was released in 1986, during Ronald Reagan's second term in office and at the beginning of the "culture war", a period of debate in which the conservative right, fueled by Reagan's rhetoric, lashed out against increasing "cultural representation within art, media, and education" (Grainge, et al, 491). Though it may seem a timeless tale, Blue Velvet cannot be fully understood apart from this context." And Christopher Sharrett on the website Film International noticed similar connections between Reagan and the 1950s.

While I feel the duality between the 1950s and '80s and their connection between surface optimism and underground violence is the dominate theme of the film, another idea came into my head that wasn't written about by other critics in 1986. Why is the film titled "Blue Velvet"? A person giving a surface reading of the film might respond with, because it is a song one of the characters sings in the movie. Another answer could be, it is an example of the '50s / '80s comparison since the song was written in 1951, and a hit for Tony Bennett that same year. But I have a more radical suggestion. Pablo Picasso is arguably the most famous artist associated with the color blue due to his paintings in the early 1900s known as his "Blue Period". These melancholy paintings were the result of a friend's suicide, which led Picasso to fall into a depression. The paintings are known for their social commentary, often reflecting poverty, loneliness, and sorrow. They also focused on marginalized figures in society. The color scheme of the paintings were defined by a monochromatic palette, using deep blues and blue-greens.

It's not an apples to apples comparison but Lynch's film uses a blue palette, deals with marginalized characters, and makes a social commentary. Both Picasso's "Blue Period" and Lynch's "Blue Velvet" were points of maturity for each artists. The two came into their own in terms of artistic expression, moving beyond technical craft. "Blue Velvet" was debatably Lynch's greatest achievement, at that point in his career. He was coming off of the box-office and critical failure, "Dune" (1984) and had previously directed "Eraserhead" (1977) and "The Elephant Man" (1980). Lastly, let us also not forget, besides being a filmmaker, Lynch was an artist and a fan of the Surrealist movement. 

Another unusual thought popped into my head. This one hasn't been written about much either. Watching "Blue Velvet" I started to pay attention to the importance of stairs. I've come to the conclusion that Lynch's films are meant to be symbolically interpreted. Sure, you can "turn your brain off" and watch a Lynch film for the sheer entertainment value of it, but Lynch was a devilishly smart and creative filmmaker. Meaning is hidden in his films. The real joy, for me anyway, is to interpret the symbolism.  And one big reoccurring image is stairs. Stairs can represent several things in a film - a spiritual journey, obstacles, achievement - Lynch uses stairs at times to suggest those things but I think he primarily uses it to show personal growth and transition.

The first time Lynch emphasizes stairs is when the main character, Jeffrey (Kyle MacLachlan) is walking out of his bedroom. No lights are on and the camera looks up at him. Jeffrey slowly walks down the stairs and into the light of the living room, where his mother and a friend are watching television. On the television is a suspenseful movie. We see a man gingerly walking up stairs. Lynch creates a contrast in motion, which I found interesting. At this point in the film, Jeffrey is about to embark on a dangerous journey and discover much about this quiet community. He literally goes from darkness to light. Later we see stairs when Jeffrey has to walk up them to get to the apartment of a woman named Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini). In this case the stairs become a symbol of danger, just as they were in the image on the television.

And the appearance of television is used to make a deliberate point in the film. Lynch twice shows us the mother character watching it. Each time it is a suspenseful / gangster film. To me this suggest, these characters view violence as a thing of fiction. It is something you find in the movies but not in the town where these characters live. Lynch could have had the mother character watch anything but he chose something violent. He is setting the viewer up for what they can expect as well.

For my own part, my reaction to the violent nature of the film surprised me. I wasn't put off by it. I say it surprised me because only a couple of years ago, when reviewing Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" (1994), for its 30th anniversary, I wrote the violence in that film bothered me on an emotional level and I didn't find the movie to be the classic others have proclaimed it. Its "charms" have worn off on me. A large reason for why that is, is because I found no great meaning in Tarantino's use of violence, other than a message on the random, chaotic structure of life. In "Blue Velvet" on the other hand, I saw more purpose and commentary into Lynch's dark world. After forty years the film has lost none of its power within those images. They are disturbing and shocking and yet essential because they go deeper than what is on the surface and reveal something about ourselves.

Funny enough, when "Blue Velvet" was initially released other critics didn't spend much time on the violence. The primary focus in their reviews was the kink / erotic factor of the film. The great New York Times critic, Janet Maslin wrote in her review, "Mr. Lynch had already established his beachhead inside the realm of the bizarre, but his latest venture takes him a lot further. Kinkiness is its salient quality." If I had to describe Pauline Kael's New Yorker review, I'd say she describes the film's plot, beat by beat, and interprets everything through an erotic lens. She states, early in her review, "Lynch doesn't censor his sexual fantasies, and the film's hypercharged erotic atmosphere makes it something of a trance-out". Interestingly, neither woman had much to say on the treatment of the female characters, in particular Isabella Rossellini. In the Village Voice critic J. Hoberman concluded, "the heart of the film is a twenty-minute sex scene replete with voyeurism, rape, sadomasochism, implied castration, all manner of verbal and physical abuse, elaborate fetishism, and a ritualized kinkiness for which there is no name." None of these critics condemned the violence. Kael was the deepest of the three, which unfortunately isn't saying much, in trying to psychoanalyze how it all affects Jeffrey. 

The one mainstream critic that really stood out for his dislike of the film was Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert. In a famous episode on  the movie review program with Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel, the two got into a heated debate. The show didn't provide Ebert with the best outlet to express his dissatisfaction with the film, instead coming off as overprotective of Isabella Rossellini. In his print review Ebert was better able to articulate his objections. Ebert felt the film had "two levels of reality". One was a story of sexual bondage and the other comprised of 1950s sitcom characters. These two "realities", Ebert believed, pulled the film apart. His remarks however on the treatment of Rossellini's character are strong and speak to a broader problem in cinema on how women are portrayed. They are asked to make themselves vulnerable in films that don't deserve it. More could have been done with Rossellini's character to provide her with a better payoff. It is one ugly aspect of "Blue Velvet"  that I don't want to go too far out of my way to defend. It may explain why other critics didn't broach this delicate topic in their reviews.

One character that is treated better and given an arc is Jeffrey. In its own bizarre way, "Blue Velvet" is a kind of coming of age story; a young man loses his innocence as he begins to see the darker side of the world. Most revealing is Jeffrey shows tendencies of embracing that darker side as does Dorothy. If we give Jeffrey the benefit of the doubt, he begins his journey in earnest, wanting to help and protect Dorothy from a deranged kinky gangster named Frank (Dennis Hopper), who has kidnapped Dorothy's husband and son. But soon, in a way, Jeffrey takes advantage of Dorothy and the two begin sleeping together. 

Lets take for example a scene between Jeffrey and Dorothy. They are sleeping together when Dorothy asks Jeffrey to be a bad boy and hit her. The act is meant to mimic the behavior of Frank, who we see beat Dorothy. In the heat of the moment, Jeffrey reacts with a shocked expression but we can tell there is an immediate temptation to submit to her request. When Jeffrey finally does, Lynch breaks away to a flickering flame to symbolize the passion and destruction within Jeffrey.

It's not too far of a stretch to point out the women in Lynch's film also represent the duality we see onscreen- the quaint suburban setting and the unsettling underground world. Dorothy is linked to the gangsters and eroticism whereas Sandy (Laura Dern) is the cute 1950s teenager you'd expect to find in an episode of "Leave it to Beaver". Is it a coincidence the character is named Sandy, which could be taken as a reference to actress Sandy Dennis, a popular teen actress from the era. Jeffrey has an attraction to both women.

Sandy and Jeffrey, at first, appear to symbolize the same thing - youthful innocence - but notice that Lynch keeps Sandy innocent. She is the daughter of a detective investigating a case involving Frank and Dorothy. She will help Jeffrey but only up to a point while always warning him he is in over his head. She doesn't share Jeffrey's temptation to the darkside. At one point she evens wonders is Jeffrey a detective himself or a pervert?

It is a question that I think purposely makes us think of Hitchcock and the film "Rear Window" (1954) in particular. In that film Jimmy Stewart is a photographer with a broken leg who spies on his neighbors living in an apartment complex across from him. He may or may not have witnessed a murder. "Window" touched on a theme often found in Hitchcock films, voyeurism. There is a scene in "Blue Velvet" which visually recalls Hitchcock when Jeffrey is hiding in Dorothy's closet and watches her with Frank. We see Jeffrey stand in the dark with the only light coming from the the slits of the door. It illuminates Jeffrey's eyes. It's the exact kind of image that would have made Hitchcock proud.

Like "Rear Window", Lynch is careful however not to have the audience anticipate too much ahead of the lead character. The audience learns information as Jeffrey does. We are there every step of the way, going down this rabbit hole into a wild, violent, and sexually depraved world. And like a Hitchcock film, Lynch blends suspense with dark humor, although unlike other critics, I don't actually consider "Blue Velvet" a comedy, as for example Pauline Kael did. This isn't a side-splittingly funny film. It has moments of satire but I personally don't laugh when I watch this film.

When David Lynch died the fantastic critic Stephanie Zacharek, over at Time, wrote a special tribute for the filmmaker, observing the cultural impact the release of  "Velvet" had by writing, "it's hard to convey how the release of Blue Velvet seemed to blow a hole in the world.". "Velvet" became a hugely influential film for future filmmakers such as Darren Aronofsky and Tarantino. For his efforts Lynch received his second Academy Award nomination for best director. His first was for "The Elephant Man". Lynch would go on to receive a third and final director nomination for "Mulholland Dr.". The film would go on to win various film critic association awards as well as two Golden Globe nominations.

In a way my first impression of Lynch wasn't wrong - a cross between John Waters and Federico Fellini - it just wasn't a way most people would word it. If you ever studied film or have done deep research, there is a school of thought that says the films of Waters are social satires and critiques. The best examples of this would be his more mainstream films - "Cry Baby" (1990) and "Serial Mom" (1994). Fellini's films on the other hand are known for surreal non-linear plots that blurred fantasy and reality. They were autobiographical and presented caricature views of society. All of that is present in the works of Lynch and "Blue Velvet".

The world of cinema lost one of its great visionaries when Lynch died. I will forever cherish the memories of my first encounters with various Lynch films and will fondly recall the seemingly endless debates in college as my friends and I tried the interpret his work. That was the beauty of Lynch's films. They were unsolvable puzzles that required multiple viewings. I could review this film in five years from now and focus on an entirely different set of ideas and themes. To me that's the work of a great filmmaker and a great film, one that consistently challenges us and opens our minds, avoiding easy answers.