Our society glorifies beauty and ostracizes the afflicted and the lame. For every War Amps commercial on television, there are a hundred Neutrogena and L'Oreal spots (because you're "worth it"). Today's celebrities are famous more for their apperance than for their talent; when was the last time you saw an actress with a blemish or an actor who was confined to a wheelchair? Our society is constructed in such a way that the plights of those who face the most difficult challenges -- and deserve our attention and respect the most -- are overlooked. One would imagine it has always been this way, but in the case of John Merrick, a man whose severe disfigurements put his life in jeopardy every day, there was a point in time when London's society classes actually seemed to care about an afflicted person and even managed to make him into a quasi-celebrity.
David Lynch's The Elephant Man chronicles Merrick's life from the time he was discovered in a travelling carnival show by Dr. Frederick Treves (Anthony Hopkins) to his death a few years later from the weight of his own head, a side effect of his suffering from a rare condition known as Proteus Syndrome. When Treves first meets Merrick (John Hurt), he is so shocked and full of pity, a tear falls down his face. Merrick's self-professed owner/manager (Freddie Jones) allows him to be inspected by Treves and the "Elephant Man" is then presented to a room full of doctors and scientists, aghast at his disfigurements even from behind a protective white sheet.
Merrick is soon admitted to a hospital run by the esteemed Carr Gomm (John Gielgud), where he re-discovers his ability to communicate, read and even create in the form of a model of a church he constructs, inspired by the view from his bedroom. His hardships become fodder for England's upper class and catch the attention of Mrs. Kendal (Anne Bancroft), an actress who connects with Merrick immediately. Treves becomes concerned that Merrick's newfound status of popularity has managed to return everything to the way it was before, with Merrick as a sideshow attraction instead of an equal in society.
Shot in black and white, the film is haphazardly edited. The numerous fade-ins and fade-outs eventually become distracting, particularly when they jump passages of time and events are left to be explained by the characters as if it were singularly impossible to depict them on the screen. What remains, however, is a great number of affecting scenes. Although much of the potential genuine conflict among characters is quashed in favour of exposition, the movie purports to be based on Treves's own book, so the overwhelming positivity must be accepted at face value and, because we would like to think our fellow man would always treat a suffering soul with compassion, it is very easy to become taken in by this optimism.
Though effective behind layers of makeup and despite being bound by physical mannerisms, Hurt's performance is overshadowed by Hopkins as the unflinching doctor. Hopkins's professional detachment belies a deep emotional undercurrent that hovers just beneath the surface, providing more authenticity to the moments when we expect him to go for broke and instead opts to hold back. The other supporting performances range from sympathetic to solemn, all consistently aligned to make Merrick more and more humane as the movie progresses.
The Elephant Man was made almost 25 years ago, and it's been over a century since the real-life events transpired, but the story itself is timeless. There is a Frankenstein-like quality to it, as well as philosophical questions and religious undercurrents (reportedly, Merrick's last words, in reference to his model church, were "It is finished"). However, the symbolic themes are never heavy-handed in Lynch's capable hands. Instead, a fascinating character study results, one which manages to glean absorption and sensitivity, serving as a reminder that whenever life seems to have its share of trials, there are always those who have it much worse. In a world where most of life's basic wants and needs are publicized and redesigned to focus on looking out for one's self, these people should not be ignored or forgotten in the process.
