Film Review: Eraserhead (1977)
Has there ever been a more strange and amazing debut feature as David Lynch’s nightmare-fueled Eraserhead? If there has, I’d like to see it. I love David Lynch films for many reasons, one of which being that he refuses to explain what the hell they mean. Why should he? I firmly believe that if he did, they would lose much of their magic, and appeal.
I first saw Eraserhead back in high school. My friend Cory and I stayed up late one night at his mom’s house to watch it. I don’t think we got through very much of the film before we started to discuss it. I remember having a distinct feeling that I was seeing something special, but I wasn’t sure if I actually liked it. It’s a strange sensation and a testament to the power of the film. I was moved by it, that much I knew, but was it good? Twenty-something years ago, I wasn’t so sure. Subsequent viewings have confirmed that I more than just like it. In fact, I think it’s a near masterpiece. These viewings, however, haven’t done much to ease those same, very strange sensations that I had the first time around, and I love that.
I recently had the opportunity to see Eraserhead on the big screen, and I’m positive that every single person in the room came away with a wide variety of ideas about it. The stage is set with moving images, sound, and some dialogue, but the rest is up to the viewer. It’s a sort of mass-hypnosis where everyone is tricked into believing different truths. What’s seen on the screen is the same for all, but the experience varies from person to person. It’s an amazing feat.
When viewing experimental or Avant Garde films, it’s probably best to put notions such as plot and continuity out of your head. Eraserhead gives us just enough plot to make us believe we can tie it all together, but of course, we can’t (trying to make sense of it might just make you angry). It’s best to let these types of films simply wash over you, to let your mind wander about within the screen. Take in the textures, the sounds, and the long pauses. Be aware of how the film is making you feel. Remember, filmmakers are trying to elicit emotion from you, and this particular filmmaker (Lynch) doesn’t give a rat’s ass if you “get it” or not.
On a formal level, Eraserhead is one of the most beautifully shot, and expertly scored films I can recall. The combination of texture, light, and sound come together in a way that will make you squirm in your seat. The sound design is layered in such a way that it’s often difficult to discern music from the rhythmic cacophony of a factory. In the same way, visual elements are often blended together, forming unique images that build on each other, creating textures that boggle the mind. Strange angles and deceptively complex camera work amplify the off-putting air. Add to this the noir-ish lighting and odd pacing, and you’ve got yourself something very special and altogether unsettling. That Lynch had full artistic control over his vision is obvious. No studio would have green-lit this piece of work.
Many of Lynch’s films follow, to a degree, some form of “dream logic,” but Eraserhead is full on nightmarish. The main character, Henry (Jack Nance), is either in a constant state of hallucinatory bliss or on an extremely bad trip. The intensity and claustrophobia are damn near calculable, and the nightmare never stops. In short, it’s oh-so delightfully disturbing.
The horror is so unlike that of any other film that it’s difficult to even label it as such. But if it’s not horror we’re seeing, then just what is it? The macabre visions and unearthly creatures that seem perfectly normal in the world of the film, but so clearly not normal to us, violate our sense of reality and are therefore profoundly disturbing. The world looks like ours, the people talk like us, but there is something so clearly off about it that we can’t help but be affected by it. It’s the “near normal” that gets you.
Lynch grabbed us by the eyeballs and squeezed with his first feature outing. He pulled no punches and showed us exactly who he was as a filmmaker. He has an unmistakable style and panache, and it’s clear that he’s had it since day one. If you fancy yourself a Lynch fan and haven’t seen Eraserhead, I dare say not sitting down and watching this truly amazing film isn’t an option.
P.S. For you Twin Peaks, fans check out the carpet in the lobby of Henry’s apartment building.
