Blue Velvet and the American Dream Words By Emily Gett David Lynch’s work is synonymous with Americana, and no film exemplifies this more than Blue Velvet (1986). A mystery that delves into the dark side of suburbia, Blue Velvet tells the story of Jeffrey Beaumont, a young man who stumbles into a nightmarish world of danger and excitement, when he investigates an ear he finds in the grass near his home. Jeffrey is torn between two women in his life. The first is the virginal Sandy who radiates purity and happiness, and the second is the damaged yet intriguing club singer Dorothy Vallens, who is tangled up in a terrifying relationship with the monstrous Frank Booth.
is much like Blue Velvet’s town of Lumberton, as it looks like a picturesque vision of 50s suburbia but something isn’t right. The town subverts what we would expect from its image, as Orbison did with his song. Sandy is Jeffrey’s path to the American dream. She is the sweet ‘girl next door’, daughter of the local sheriff, and comes from a conventional family life. Sandy never gets into any trouble, and is often seen in soft knits, floral prints and a pastel pink colour palette, exuding sweetness and light. Jeffrey and Sandy begin to develop a pure love for each other, that could well develop into marital bliss in the future. However this isn’t necessarily what Jeffrey wants. Tempted by the mystery and excitement of the criminal underworld he discovers, he begins to rebel against expected societal norms. Jeffrey gets involved with an older married woman, Dorothy Vallens. Dorothy’s home life resembles anything but the American dream. She works late singing in a nightclub, lives in a dingy apartment, and has had her family ripped away from her by her evil lover Frank Booth. Dorothy engages in Frank’s sick sexual routines in fear that he will hurt her son, and as a consequence develops a taste for violent sexual relationships. Jeffrey is in over his head with Dorothy and her issues, uncomfortable with her desire for him to hit her in the bedroom, yet he sees this broken woman and can’t help but feel that he needs to help her. It is almost as if Jeffrey needs to omit all of the darkness and twisted sexual desire out of his system before he can fully commit to the conventional suburban existence he is destined too.
In the US, during the post-war period of the late 40s, the suburbs sprang up, becoming home to thousands of families and the prime location for the American dream. White picket fences, pristine lawns, a safe neighbourhood for children to play in, they had it all. The dream of having a stable income, loving wife and 2.5 children, is all part of the conventionality of suburban life. The opening of Blue Velvet epitomises this, with the hyper-realistic image of bright red roses growing in front of white picket fence, the clearest blue sky visible between the panels. The film cuts to a pleasant sleepy neighbourhood where you would imagine nothing much happens. A 1950’s style fire engine rolls past, complete with dalmatian and a firefighter waving directly towards the camera. The scene is eerily too picture perfect, and we get the sense that something is not right. The next scene confirms our suspicions. As a man tending to his garden collapses in pain, an extreme close-up reveals what lives beneath his perfectly groomed lawn. Slick black roaches are scrambling over each other, their legs flailing in a sickening image. This shot visualises what Blue Velvet is all about, the darkness that lingers below the surface of flawless suburban life. Put perfectly by Laura Dern as quoted in Lynch’s biography/memoirs Room to Dream:
After Jeffrey solves the mystery and saves Dorothy from Frank, a sense of relief washes over the film. It is as if Jeffrey has restored order to the world, as we return to the dreamy suburbia of the opening sequence. The ethereal backing song ‘Mysteries of Love’ plays as we see Jeffrey lying in his garden. His father has recovered, and Sandy, as the perfect 1950’s housewife, is preparing lunch in the kitchen with Jeffrey’s aunt. Everything is in place, and Jeffrey seems content that he has achieved his American dream. Sandy exclaims as a robin lands on the windowsill, harking back to a dream she had where the world was dark until a thousand robins were released, bringing with them a blinding light of love. It is because of that dream that the sighting of a robin is so poignant, again suggesting that goodness has been restored to the world. However, like the town of Lumberton, and like Roy Orbison’s music in the 50’s, there is something slightly off about the robin. The birds movements are mechanical and unnatural. Perhaps this robin is signifying the artificiality of Jeffrey’s now seemingly perfect life, and reminding us that the American dream is just that, a dream.
“With the opening of the film you’re immediately thrust into a world where everything feels real but unreal, everything’s perfect but you can’t trust it, and then you transcend into the underbelly” Although set in the 80s, the town seems lost in time with its distinctly 1950’s imagery. The neighbourhood, the cars, and the diner, all appear to belong to a previous decade. The films signature use of Roy Orbison’s music is again distinctly oldfashioned, setting a tone for the film and suggesting a 50s sensibility. Notably Lynch commented that he hated the song Blue Velvet when it was released, expressing that “It’s not rock ‘n’ roll, and it came out during the birth of rock ‘n’ roll and that’s where the power was”. However there is something interesting in this song choice. Blue Velvet came during the height of the 1950’s, yet was distinctly different and out of place there. This
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