“In Dreams”: Dream
Theory in David Lynch’s Blue Velvet
David
Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986)
uses Freud’s dream theory, enabled by unique mise-en-scene to explore the
subconscious corrupt desires possessed by all. By juxtaposing settings of
reality and fantasy, Lynch offers us an avenue through which to examine our
inner reality. This subconscious focus is extended through Lynch’s suggestively
parallel structure, seen in the contrast of character and thematic concerns
between the settings we come to identify as reality and fantasy. Lynch relies
heavily on both Lacan’s notion of the real and Freud’s dream theory in
establishing the psychoanalytical interpretation of the subconscious, whereby dreams
act as a common motif in Blue Velvet. By
utilizing this tool Lynch is able to use the filmic development of the
subconscious as a tool to undermine the “reality” established and expose the fragility
of the human psyche.
The
exposing of the underbelly of the human psyche is very clearly articulated in
the opening sequence. The audience is introduced to a clear blue sky with a
downward pan to a white picket fence and a picturesque rose bush while Bobby
Vinton’s “Blue Velvet” plays. The intense saturation of color in the opening
sequence and throughout the film works to diminish the credibility of the films
“reality”, as viewers are aware of the artificial nature of what they see. The
diminishment of the “reality” is further seen towards the end of the opening
sequence as we move into a scene of a man watering his garden. In juxtaposition
to the pleasant images that have been shown – tulips, a waving fireman with a
Dalmatian, orderly school children walking to class with their packed lunch –
the man suffers a heart attack. He falls into a muddy patch of garden which has
been quartered off from the rest of the yard, Lynch subtly suggests that there
are flaws or literal ‘holes’ in our reality, both the films and our psyche.
Lynch causes further discomfort to the viewer by introducing an innocent figure
to this horrific scene, an unattended toddler who wanders into frame. This links
to Lacan’s theories of oedipal development which cast Frank into the role of
father in the absence of Jeffrey’s true father figure.[1]
Even if we avoid this interpretation, the unnecessary inclusion of a toddler is
foretelling of the ominous discovery of dual inner reality which will come with
the progression of the film. Furthermore
man’s best friend, a small pet dog, is presented with violent overtones, not
aiding his master in the ways in which we have come accustomed to expect and
obviously in clear contrast to the dog on the fire truck. To end the scene the
camera delves under a perfectly tended patch of grass to reveal festering bugs
under the surface as the pleasant crooning is drowned out by loud, busy noise. This
moment of hyper-reality clearly contradicts the idealized image of the
quotidian which we enjoyed for a few short seconds and creates an ominous and
overwhelming feeling of discomfort. The opening sequence of the film thus
establishes the parallel structure of Blue
Velvet through its dramatic and distinct juxtapositions while
simultaneously bringing to light the darker thematic concerns by oscillating
between “reality” and hyper-reality. This oscillation introduces and enables a
psychoanalytic interpretation by causing the viewer to reassess the credibility
of the reality which they have been presented.
Lacan
suggests that the notion of the real is inextricably linked to our own inner
reality.[2]
That is to say that reality is only something that exists within our mind.
Having Lynch frame almost all of the corruptive action – bar the discovery of
the ear – in settings which are inherently fantastical furthers the Lacanian
theory of the real by suggesting that our most effective means of dealing with
the world around us is to understand it as fiction.
As Zizek points out, ‘In the opposition between
fantasy and reality, the Real is on the side of fantasy.’ It is in the very
turn to fantasy that it becomes possible to experience a traumatic encounter
with the gaze – to experience the Real. Whereas desire always keeps the gaze at
a distance, fantasy can act as the vehicle to lead the subject to an encounter
with the gaze.”[3]
Thus
much of Blue Velvet is telling
us these “fictitious” and fantastical scenes fill in with the functions of
dreams. During these scenes our protagonist, Jeffrey is restricted to the
function of viewer or in the case of his love affair with Dorothy, is limited
in agency. This limitation isolates these scenes from Jeffrey’s reality, the
film’s reality and the audiences. The parallel structure of the film, as well
as vast contrasts in setting allows us this avenue in which to explore fears,
desires and anxieties by the application of Freud’s dream theory.
The
two scenes which most highlight Lynch’s use of dream theory via mise-en-scene
in his films are the invasion of Jeffrey into Dorothy Valens’ apartment and the
rendition of Roy Orbison’s “In Dreams” which takes place in Ben’s venue, which
is aptly named “This is it”. Dorothy’s apartment functions as a space in which
fantasy and desire are at their most potent. The apartment is noticeably bare
of any personal effects and is surprisingly large; this space appears to be
empty and unfulfilled, thus signifying the expansive potential for desire not
only in the setting but also in the broader film. This is furthered with a
sultry color scheme and the inclusion of a divider (commonly a bedroom piece)
which offers no privacy. When we first see the apartment the only shadows which
are seen are cast over the hallway which invariably leads to Dorothy’s bedroom,
a foreshadowing of events to come (excuse the pun.) Though when we return to
the apartment in the night it is bathed in shadows, mystery and almost tangible
sexual energy:
The mise-en-scene of the apartment is distinct and
conveys an overwhelming sense of desire. Whereas both the Lumberton public
world and the underworld are depicted as colorful and full, Dorothy’s apartment
is a world of empty spaces and dark voids. The scene in which Jeffrey enters
the apartment using a stolen key was shot with very little light. Jeffrey thus
walks around the apartment in near total darkness. Even after Dorothy returns
home and turns on the lights, the lighting remains dim, leaving dark spaces
within the mise-en-scene. Just before she discovers Jeffrey hiding in her
closet, Dorothy moves into one of these dark spaces: we know she is in the
apartment, but she appears to be in the middle of a shadowy void. The lighting
suggests a world of desire where nothing can be known.[4]
The
impersonal nature of this setting, in combination with the color scheme and
immense space means this space functions as a dream space. This is furthered by
absence of credible “reality” in these spaces. Neither Sandy nor anyone Jeffrey
knows (other than Dorothy who in herself still an unknown character)[5]
inhabit this space, thus it stays separated from “reality”. The lack of agency Jeffrey
experiences in this setting further compels a reading of this being a dream
scene. Specifically in the invasion scene, our protagonist is forced to deal
with his concerns of masculine anxieties: castration. He is simultaneously cast
as son first viewing his parent’s sexuality (the rape)[6]
and as man (being forced at knife point to take his pants down.)
The scene in which Ben sings –
prompted by Frank – “In Dreams” is a haunting revelation of the subconscious
tool employed by Lynch. In this scene we see normality undercut: family (family
relations between Dorothy and Donny) are physically separated and barred from
our view, normal societal expectations (pleasantry) are subverted (being
punched in the gut for a toast) and put into a thoroughly dream like setting.
The lighting in “This is It” is integral in understanding the mise-en-scene,
just as it was in Dorothy’s apartment. The shadows cast off from the lamp near
the speaker, in the background of much of the action casts sharp angles and are
wholly disorienting and visually uncomfortable. This is perpetuated by all
lighting fixtures cluttering the room, signifying a break from the films
“reality”. The inclusion of large, visually oppressive curtains is a motif to
signify the move into the dream world and is present in Dorothy’s apartment
after the sex between Jeffrey and Dorothy. While Ben is singing the song, he
holds to his face as a microphone a light which visually isolates his head from
the rest of his body. In dream theory, isolating the body from the head
visually articulates the separation of body and mind and thus underscores a
psychoanalytical approach. The song choice, aptly named “In Dreams” is no
coincidence. Furthermore this scene enables the unpleasantness which permeates
“reality” (the drug bust witnessed is discussed between Frank and Ben in this
setting,) to be assigned to the world of fantasy.
What
Lynch achieves in creating this parallel structure between fantasy and reality
through careful construction of setting and character isolation is a revelation
about the function of the human psyche. Humanity prefers its corruption to be
contained, both subconsciously and in film. This is evidenced throughout the
film as we are twice shown the viewing of suspenseful movies in Jeffrey’s home.
Lynch suggests in Blue Velvet that
as human beings we seek to isolate the horrific capabilities of humanity by relegating
it to the realm of fiction through fantastical construction. Simultaneously, Lynch underscores the
necessity of the exploration of these capabilities as Blue Velvet functions as an atypical coming of age film for
Jeffrey. The final scene of the film shows Jeffrey literally awakening into the
idealistic “reality” of the film, but this reality is then pierced by an image
of Sandy’s subconscious, a robin. The symbolism of the only innocent character’s
image of hope – the robin – eating a bug, which was established in the opening
scene as signifying the underbelly of our psyche, cannot be overemphasized.
Lynch here, in combination with the waking of Jeffrey earlier in the scene,
clearly and visually articulates the necessity of the subconscious in establishing
our understanding of reality, very much in line with Lacan’s notion of the
real. Dorothy delivers a line as Jeffrey is leaving her apartment which
articulates the necessity of the subconscious for moral development, if we
imagine these lines as a comment on the subconscious rather than delivered to
Jeffrey the potency of Lynch’s thematic concern is seen:
I know the difference between right and wrong.
You’re my special friend. I still have you inside of me. It helps me. I need
you.
[1]
Kuzniar, Alice. “ ‘Ears Looking a You: E.T A. Hoffmann’s “The Sandman” and
David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet”,” South
Atlantic Review. Vol. 54. No. 2. 1989 pg. 8-9
[2]
Zizek, Slavoj “The Sublime Object of
Ideology” (London: Verson: 1989) chp. 5
[3] McGowan,
Todd. “Looking for the Gaze: Lacanian Film Theory in its Vicissitudes” Cinema Journal. Vol. 42. No. 3. 2003.
Pg. 29
[4]
“Looking for the Gaze: Lacanian Film Theory in its Vicissitudes” Cinema Journal. Vol. 42. No. 3. 2003.
Pg. 41
[5]
Frida Beckman discusses the ambiguous characterization of Dorothy
simultaneously as victim and femme fatale, this ambiguity and lack of narrative
focus solely on Dorothy means she is an unknown character in spite of what we
are taught about her. Beckman, Frida “From Irony to Narrative Crisis:
Reconsidering the Femme Fatale in the films of David Lynch” Cinema Journal. Vol. 52. No. 1. 2012 Pg.
30
[6]
Fiennes, Sophie A Perverts Guide to
Cinema, Amoeba Films. 2006.
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