Eraserhead
August 27th 2009 23:40
“A dream of dark and troubling things.”
From the tenebrous realm of Lynchland where a squelch and stickiness throbs and flows between the psychological and the physiological, an ephemeral, inner cosmic debris that is Eraserhead (1977) emerged. Its original title was Gardenback. In Serbia it is called Chapter for the Removal, in Italy it is The Mind That Erases, and in France it became known as Labyrinth Man. To David Lynch, its auteur, it is whatever you make of it, for he is not prepared to offer anything more than the quotation above. Let Eraserhead be Eraserhead is Eraserhead was Eraserhead will be …
I first saw this inexplicable study of weirdness late at night on British television with my father when I was barely sixteen (that classically provocative age). It was a small screen in a small room which only exacerbated the movie’s claustrophobic atmosphere. Every so often we would turn to look at each other as if to say, “Huh? Okaaaaay, riiiiiight …”, then turn back to the flickering drone of the film none the wiser. Of course the movie lingered in my mind like a dank mold, but one with curious spores. It became a morbid fascination; the mood and tone, the sounds and imagery, and The Man in the Planet (Jack Fisk); I loved those huge gears, that ominous window, his horribly diseased face, his enigmatic role in the giant stormy scheme of things … and of course, Henry’s baby. That hideous thing gave me the pleasure of nightmares.
Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) lives in an industrial wasteland. He seems perpetually depressed, suicidal even. He lusts after The Beautiful Girl Across the Hall (Judith Roberts), who tells him he’s been invited to dinner with Mary X (Charlotte Stewart) and her parents, Mr. X (Allen Joseph) and Mrs. X (Jeanne Bates). This is the woman he had sex with. Or was that in his tortured mind? At dinner Mary’s parents serve up miniature artificial chickens in the midst of awkward conversation. Henry is chastised by Mary’s folks. Back at his own cramped apartment Henry and Mary deliberate over responsibility over their newborn mutant baby that cries incessantly. Henry would prefer to visit the Lady in the Radiator (Laurel Near) rather than feed his ghastly offspring. Mary leaves him, and he dreams of his head being drilled for use on the end of pencils. He sees The Beautiful Girl Across the Hall being intimate with Mr. Roundheels (Jack Walsh). The baby cackles at Henry, seemingly laughing at his utter, abject pathetic existence, and this is the straw that broke the camel’s back …
David Lynch made Eraserhead in the same way Peter Jackson made Bad Taste (1986); over a period of four or so years. Like Jackson, Lynch handled many of the instrumental roles (writing/directing/co-produci ng/production design/art direction/editing/original music). It is a wildly existential movie that tackles metaphysics with abstract thought, wrestles sexuality with introversion, wrangling loneliness and despair with the deep-rooted freak of control. There are very few films that capture the elusiveness of oneirodynia with such a distinct and wholly original style; a mise-en-scene that threatens to consume itself, a narrative arc that coils and threshes with ferocity and tranquility in equal measure. Lynch describes Eraserhead as his “most spiritual movie” (I’m sure with a sly smirk). It was after viewing the movie during its initial “midnight movie” circuit that Mel Brooks offered Lynch The Elephant Man (1980) to direct, and George Lucas offered him Return of the Jedi to direct, while Stanley Kubrick and John Waters were two of the movie’s earliest high profile die-hard fans.
Eraserhead has a fascination with orifices; the camera is forever entering and exiting holes, like some kind of descent into a sexual phantasmagoria. Some of these entrances and exits are metaphors, while others are purely narrative tunnels. The menacing monochromatic cinematography, courtesy of original lensman Herb Cardwell and his replacement Frederick Elmes, is brilliant, as is the sound design, courtesy of Alan R. Splet (and Lynch). But not to forget the special effect that is the mutant baby. To this day Lynch refuses to explain how he animated it, although rumours persist that it was an embalmed calf! The infantile creation is a truly astonishing, and utterly disturbing, manifestation of everything alien, yet domestic and familial. With Eraserhead Lynch tapped into the oiliest reserves of his inner phreak and created a magnificent monster … but not to worry, because in Heaven everything will be fine.
Here's the teaser trailer:
Dinnertime:
From the tenebrous realm of Lynchland where a squelch and stickiness throbs and flows between the psychological and the physiological, an ephemeral, inner cosmic debris that is Eraserhead (1977) emerged. Its original title was Gardenback. In Serbia it is called Chapter for the Removal, in Italy it is The Mind That Erases, and in France it became known as Labyrinth Man. To David Lynch, its auteur, it is whatever you make of it, for he is not prepared to offer anything more than the quotation above. Let Eraserhead be Eraserhead is Eraserhead was Eraserhead will be …
I first saw this inexplicable study of weirdness late at night on British television with my father when I was barely sixteen (that classically provocative age). It was a small screen in a small room which only exacerbated the movie’s claustrophobic atmosphere. Every so often we would turn to look at each other as if to say, “Huh? Okaaaaay, riiiiiight …”, then turn back to the flickering drone of the film none the wiser. Of course the movie lingered in my mind like a dank mold, but one with curious spores. It became a morbid fascination; the mood and tone, the sounds and imagery, and The Man in the Planet (Jack Fisk); I loved those huge gears, that ominous window, his horribly diseased face, his enigmatic role in the giant stormy scheme of things … and of course, Henry’s baby. That hideous thing gave me the pleasure of nightmares.
Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) lives in an industrial wasteland. He seems perpetually depressed, suicidal even. He lusts after The Beautiful Girl Across the Hall (Judith Roberts), who tells him he’s been invited to dinner with Mary X (Charlotte Stewart) and her parents, Mr. X (Allen Joseph) and Mrs. X (Jeanne Bates). This is the woman he had sex with. Or was that in his tortured mind? At dinner Mary’s parents serve up miniature artificial chickens in the midst of awkward conversation. Henry is chastised by Mary’s folks. Back at his own cramped apartment Henry and Mary deliberate over responsibility over their newborn mutant baby that cries incessantly. Henry would prefer to visit the Lady in the Radiator (Laurel Near) rather than feed his ghastly offspring. Mary leaves him, and he dreams of his head being drilled for use on the end of pencils. He sees The Beautiful Girl Across the Hall being intimate with Mr. Roundheels (Jack Walsh). The baby cackles at Henry, seemingly laughing at his utter, abject pathetic existence, and this is the straw that broke the camel’s back …
David Lynch made Eraserhead in the same way Peter Jackson made Bad Taste (1986); over a period of four or so years. Like Jackson, Lynch handled many of the instrumental roles (writing/directing/co-produci ng/production design/art direction/editing/original music). It is a wildly existential movie that tackles metaphysics with abstract thought, wrestles sexuality with introversion, wrangling loneliness and despair with the deep-rooted freak of control. There are very few films that capture the elusiveness of oneirodynia with such a distinct and wholly original style; a mise-en-scene that threatens to consume itself, a narrative arc that coils and threshes with ferocity and tranquility in equal measure. Lynch describes Eraserhead as his “most spiritual movie” (I’m sure with a sly smirk). It was after viewing the movie during its initial “midnight movie” circuit that Mel Brooks offered Lynch The Elephant Man (1980) to direct, and George Lucas offered him Return of the Jedi to direct, while Stanley Kubrick and John Waters were two of the movie’s earliest high profile die-hard fans.
Eraserhead has a fascination with orifices; the camera is forever entering and exiting holes, like some kind of descent into a sexual phantasmagoria. Some of these entrances and exits are metaphors, while others are purely narrative tunnels. The menacing monochromatic cinematography, courtesy of original lensman Herb Cardwell and his replacement Frederick Elmes, is brilliant, as is the sound design, courtesy of Alan R. Splet (and Lynch). But not to forget the special effect that is the mutant baby. To this day Lynch refuses to explain how he animated it, although rumours persist that it was an embalmed calf! The infantile creation is a truly astonishing, and utterly disturbing, manifestation of everything alien, yet domestic and familial. With Eraserhead Lynch tapped into the oiliest reserves of his inner phreak and created a magnificent monster … but not to worry, because in Heaven everything will be fine.
Here's the teaser trailer:
Dinnertime:
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Comment by Natalina
My Life My Muse
Beta Girl Blog
The first time I saw it, I was also a teenager, and I didn't know what to make of it. Only that I couldn't get rid of it long after it had ended. I didn't watch it again for a few years. I finally watched it again as an adult and I've been mesmerized ever since.
Can't say much more about it that you haven't said. This was a tremendous review Bryn. One of your best!
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Christopher Waldeck
Dunk Films
I'm surprised you've just reviewed Eraserhead
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
You did this one justice with your great review.
The words "weird" and "original" are thrown around very loosely when describing cinema but they are certainly apt with Eraserhead.
I love this film for its discomforting and enigmatic qualities, everytime I watch it I seem to come to a different conclusion about its purpose....the imagery imprints on the mind forcing me to revisit it every couple of years.
Love that Lynch will never throw us a bone on this one.
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
JD, yes, Lynch is smart in maintaining the mystique, although, my God, can you imagine if he did decide to do an audio commentary!!!
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Amy Wang
Films, Films And More FIlms
Phenomenal sound used in this film. Such an interesting first film by such an interesting director.
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Byee
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile