The Elephant Man is a bleak and depressing realization of what it can be like to live severely disabled, and a staunchly tragic dramatization of the real elephant man, Joseph Merrick. Starting when the slightly renamed John Merrick (John Hurt) was basically enslaved by a slimy freak show circus proprietor named Bytes (Freddie Jones), one of their regular shows catches the attention of an empathetic doctor, Frederick Treves (Anthony Hopkins). He quickly claims responsibility over Merrick, becoming the sole believer in Merrick being purely physically deformed and actually an ordinary man mentally. Getting to work on him, Dr. Treves provides Merrick with the means of living, despite his circumstances, whether that be respect or physical tools. They bond over Merrick’s progress, making the man’s ultimate journey one of beauty and hope in the world’s otherwise black reality. Unfortunately, reality still catches up to everyone including Merrick.

People like to see each other struggle sometimes, even if they won’t admit it. No matter how good any of us try to be, the capability for sinister malice of different kinds exists. Western societies at large thrive on suffering. Throughout history, patterns of progress primarily arise either in reaction to or in encouragement of fierce cruelty and greedy necessities (the Holocaust, trail of tears, slavery, the list goes on). Politics, for example, especially these days feel like a vote between absolute open evil and a lesser evil that promises peace and prosperity while it quietly executes its own unjust plans. In handpicking David Lynch to direct this morose narrative, The Elephant Man’s producer, Mel Brooks, ensures such overwhelming negativity that evolved into the current not-much-improved global condition can be digested easily.

Black and white filming reels viewers into a decrepit 18th Century England, where chimneys must be kept clean at the expense of the city’s essentially untouchable lower-working class and their health, comfortable living does not exist and human contact is a necessity rather than a choice. With typical slow-motion used to depict the violent way in which Merrick obtained is deformities—his mother got elephant trampled while pregnant—that enhance the film’s bleak outlook and Merrick’s own tragic life, Lynch and co. eloquently demonstrate how fucked up life can be and was for those even without Merrick’s distortions. It’s a cruel world Merrick has the unfortunate displeasure of existing in. “He’s a freak. How else will he live?” the shady Bytes asks a policemen at the beginning of the film, laying the ground work for what to expect Merrick’s life to look like. One can only hope for the best.

That hope is where Dr. Treves comes in. While he’s certainly not perfect—he starts by presuming Merrick is “a complete idiot. I pray that he’s an idiot”—he quickly changes ways upon interacting with Merrick. “I think you’ve got something you’d like to say to me, in fact I know you do,” Treves tells a slightly shaken Merrick as he adjusts to his new home at Treves’ hospital. He encourages him even as Merrick makes a mistake, which when compared to Bytes beat Merrick with a cane not 20 minutes earlier, is like heavenly treatment. As Merrick and Treves continue to work together, Treves becomes Merrick’s first real friend, genuinely believing in him enough for Merrick to build his own confidence.

Unfortunately, reality is different. People are naturally inclined to hate, and the industrialized age merely gave them more energy to do so. When tending to a machine-related accident, Dr. Treves reflects on machinery’s indiscriminately violent nature as it churns and churns despite causing potential injury or death: “Abominable machines, these things. You can’t reason with them.” This lack of reason makes their risk indiscriminate, because mistakes can still lead to death. Unfortunately, as Lynch contradicts, Treves has too much faith in people. As Merrick eventually gets out into the real world, he quickly discovers blood, trauma, teasing, and humiliation are all they he gets. As he crumples down from such physical endurances in a subway, screaming the infamous line “I am not an animal! I am a human being! I… am… a man!” it’s hard not to wonder how mechanized people have either become because of industrialization in their hatred or whether or not they’re just like that in general. Machines may be indiscriminate, but humans clearly can turn off their own moral switches almost as easily. Along with pained performances from Hurt and the rest of the cast and grounded scripting, Lynch ensures The Elephant Man’s most harmful moments are also its most impactful—and engaging.

Thus, while things can move a bit slowly, The Elephant Man is a time capsule of humanity’s larger flaws presented through its unfortunately outcast subject. For Lynch fans, black-and-white film fans, and morose drama fans, The Elephant Man delivers a trunk’s load of tear jerks and heart stabs.

New 4k restoration!
Screens Sunday, 4/13 through Tuesday, 4/15 @ Brattle Theatre – click here for showtimes and ticket info