Blue Velvet

This week I went to see a late night screening of Blue Velvet. Although I adore this film and find it one of the most curious films of David Lynch's career, it is of course one of his most linear films and I would say that it probably his most accessible film and if you need a place to start with David Lynch, then start with Blue Velvet.

I still struggle to find it difficult to watch any of his films with other people. I think I can pin-point this down to the way in which Lynch's films are so personal; they seem to remind you that you're human. I always have to remember when I walk away from anything he's done, that what I find terrifying is different to what you might find terrifying and my sense of humour is different to yours. The problem with seeing it in the cinema is of course, you're seeing it in a room with people you've never met before and you don't know how they're going to react, but when it's 10:30pm and you've looked forward to this film for two weeks and as the audience file in acting like they've seemingly had four or five beers before they've even sat down, you start to lose faith in them. Especially when they feel compelled to laugh at even the most minor of comical events. I couldn't help but feel I was back at university, when the simple nudge of anything funny would erupt into a vast wave of belly laughs.

The film itself is, of course, amazing. It never ceases to amaze me how ambitious Lynch is and the way in which he can make something so strange and surreal seem so undoubtedly beautiful. Frederick Elmes' cinematography in this film is possibly my favourite out all the other Lynch films he's worked on. The simplicity of it may seem average on the surface, but consider the full use of the frame coupled with the striking juxtaposition of bright colour and dark, shadowing spaces. The effect of this leaves you in a dream-like sense by the time the ending credits roll.

In terms of seeing the film in the cinema itself, it was almost perfect. The print was a pretty decent quality and the sound was pretty crisp and loud (as a Lynch film should be). The only thing that could have made it better would have been to see it on a slightly bigger screen. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing wrong with the one that it was on, but I just didn't feel entirely absorbed into the space.

The sheer brilliance of Lynch cannot be put into words. He is a true individual and his films never seem to have been comprimised. What I admire most about him is the way in which he will talk about a film if he feels like it, if he sees the need for it. You have to admire someone who makes films and lets them speak for themselves.