I’m not the biggest fan of the late David Lynch, because of his more problematic elements (depictions of gendered violence, exploitation etc) but he was unquestionably a smart, bold auteur who took risks in every project he took on. His admirers are aware of the complexities within his work. I adore the peerless 1977 classic Eraserhead.
This film remains uniquely unsettling: it’s like being anaesthetised, with a groggy, febrile sense of anxiety gnawing away. It was said to be based on his own anxieties and that of his wife as they navigated life as new parents. Henry, the introverted heart of the film portrayed by Jack Nance with a perma-frown on his cherubic face, is an emotional wreck- or is he? Could it be that he is merely responding to Jungian conflicts in a world that doesn’t or cannot allow the outsider’s perspective? Is it his individual fever dream, or an allegory for the inner turmoil lurking just underneath the American Dream?
So much of Lynch’s work occupied similarly dystopian territories- the beauty and decay of the world; white picket fences, roses and shadows, things rotting away. Henry’s tacit, anguished responses reflect our own nightmares and inner monologues. The baby won’t stop draining his resources, the noise never stops, the dinner party always ends in screaming. But as the lady in the radiator sweetly insists, “in heaven…everything is fine”.
Hit The North 