The 3 "S" that damaged the story: Sentimentalism, Symbolism and Simplification ...

Rating: 8/10 (15 November 2012)

The shadowy black and white photography communicates all the horror of John Merrick's condition and the darkness of an era where people were incapable to see inner humanity behind a hideous deformity (and it conveniently made the make-up more realistic).
John Morris' score, haunting and playful, echoes the seemingly reason-to-be of John Merrick in life: suffering and entertaining.
John Hurt powerfully communicates the vibrating despair of a trapped soul and if it wasn't for Robert De Niro in "Raging Bull", he probably would have deserved the Oscar.
And Anthony Hopkins is good as the well meaning, but not without flaws, doctor Treves.
There is also something effective in the way Merrick's scariness is asserted, David Lynch waits until almost twenty minutes to reveal his face: we see a woman crying in the Carnival, Treves with that deadpan expression and tears coming through his eyes, the iconic mask exuding mysterious breath noises, the shadowy silhouette while he's exhibited to the Medical assembly, and the whole mystery surrounding his look pinnacles with the genuine horrified reaction of Nora, the nurse, a shrill scream, Merrick's first effect on people.
At the end, he escapes from his evil master Bytes (Freddie Jones) and is chased in the train station to end up cornered in the toilets, then he finally screams: "I'm not an animal! I'm a human being! I'm a man!" At that point, his character's arc is closed; he went from a horrifying freak to a man who is capable to protest, to proclaim his legitimate right for respect and dignity. This is the true courage of John Merrick, this climactic moment when he confronts, alone, a crowd of so-called civilized people.
The entrance of "The Elephant Man" is a masterpiece of build-up; the climactic cry is his triumph.
Yet the evolution between the two moments isn't as fluid as it should be. He goes from a patient who can barely speak to one who recites the Bible quite fluently. Naturally, it would have been infuriating if the doctors never noticed his intelligence, but the moment when Carr-Gomm (John Gielgud) is disappointed by Merrick's aptitudes is immediately followed by the pivotal recitation. It's like Lynch was in an urge to show Merrick's progress. I personally wouldn't have minded if the film was half-an-hour longer for a more realistic evolution.
The psalm recitation is rewarded by an immersion in society, during which Merricks prove to be an extremely lovable character, eager to please and impress. There is a childish pride in the way he exhibits the picture of his mother and Hurt is so compelling that you can even feel in his voice, the guilt of not matching his mother's looks. At that part, you can tell that Merrick is still imprisoned in his own perceptions and can't help but see himself as a freak on a reverse way since the irony of his intelligence is that it makes his condition even more intriguing. As Treves said: "Pray to God he is an idiot"
But the film unsubtly divides people into two categories: those who see the monster and those who see the angel.
Regarding the villains, Lynch had the bad taste to trade realism for a sort of Dickens-like atmosphere, which didn't fit Merrick's existential dilemma. I didn't like the party scene because it was cruel but because it was over the top, with the whole kissing, dancing, and alcohol soaking. Now, wasn't the most disturbing part when the guard showed the mirror to Merrick? Hurt's scream was devastating, but it was covered by the noisy ambiance so we didn't have time to grab the true horror of the situation. That moment alone was enough to make the scene painful to watch, Merrick seeing his own face. And it would have made the "I'm a man!" more significant because he would know he didn't look like a man.
But he also spoiled the straight-forward realism of the story with exaggeratedly good characters, like Mrs Kendal (Anne Bancroft) who reads "Romeo and Juliet" with Merrick and kisses him. Why the rush? Think about it, would she have done that to a 'normal' person? If it was a compassionate kiss, then it's still pity, if it was not, it would have looked more genuine and maybe more sincere if it happened later. If Bancroft was supposed to play a character that would spontaneously kiss a man like Merrick, then she deserved more scenes. It seems like Lynch didn't trust our patience. In a nutshell, it's "Merrick, the Elephant Man" before, "Merrick, the Man" after, and in-between, he swings back and forth from excessively good or excessively bad people.
Maybe it's to highlight Merrick's tragic condition, to be always seen as a monster, no matter what reactions he inspires, there is always pity. Maybe that's the conflict that tortures Treves when he wonders to which extent he's different from Bytes.
By the way, I'm not implying that every supporting character was one-dimensional, Wendy Hiller was terrific as Mrs Mothershead and the funny way she hit the guard on the head.
And I thought the standing ovation in the theater damaged the powerful effect of the "I'm a man!" The same defensive (but courageous) mindset should have made him say something like "I want to enjoy the show, what have I ever done to deserve your applause, please stop it." After all, no one deserves praise for suffering, or should be considered as a hero because of a handicap.
Just give him a break, and this applies to Lynch himself, who thought he could get all mystic about Merrick, with the first vision of a woman trampled (or raped) by an elephant or the ending with all the stars and symbolism. He was so restrained in the directing that the whole surrealistic undertones were totally unnecessary.