Started By A Condor: The Straight Story

One of the most surprising moments in Disney’s live-action canon comes from a gentle, G-rated film about an old man traveling across the American Midwest on a riding mower. The two credits which open the film, fading in and out of the screen in succession, state the following:

Walt Disney Pictures presents

A Film by David Lynch

WHAT!?! David Lynch did a Disney movie!? Am I dreaming or something!? But it’s true - there exists a family-friendly film released by Disney, made by the man who brought dancing, backwards-talking dwarfs to primetime television and provided Dennis Hopper with the immortal exclamation “Heineken!? Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!!!” While Lynch’s film was an independent production that wasn't filmed under Walt Disney Pictures’ supervision, it was still picked up for worldwide distribution by the “house of mouse” following a well-received showing at the 1999 Cannes Film Festival. Let’s take a look, then, at one of the oddest but most poetic films in Disney’s film library, 1999’s The Straight Story.

The Lawnmower Man

Lynch, the infamous filmmaker behind such disturbingly surreal masterworks as Eraserhead (1977), Blue Velvet (1986) and Mulholland Dr. (2001), seems like the least likely name one would expect to pop up in a film fronted by Walt Disney Pictures' castle logo. The director’s own brief, calamitous dalliance with Hollywood is well-documented: after turning down an offer to direct 1983’s Return of the Jedi (J.W. Rinzler’s 2013 book The Making of Return of the Jedi features a humorous recollection of Lynch’s, in which he developed a massive headache whilst Star Wars creator George Lucas tried describing Ewoks to him during the initial pitch,) Lynch took on the unenviable task of adapting Frank Herbert’s 1965 sci-fi tome Dune into a big-budget genre picture for Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis. Lynch’s idiosyncratic and independent style immediately clashed with De Laurentiis, who wanted a more straightforward space adventure film that could potentially launch a successful franchise. The resulting 1984 film was a confusing mishmash of styles, like an expensive art-house production over-stuffed with weird special effects and wrung through one too many test-audiences.

Definitely not Twin Peaks...

The strangeness of The Straight Story within Lynch’s own filmography (insomuch that it’s the only one that’s not strange) lies somewhat in it’s genesis. The film is based on the true story of then 73-year old Alvin Straight who, his eyes and legs too impaired to keep his driver’s license, traveled 240 miles on a riding lawnmower in 1994 to visit his estranged brother (who’d recently suffered a stroke.) Film editor and producer Mary Sweeney, Lynch’s collaborator since Blue Velvet (and who would later go on to marry him, from May to July(!) of 2006,) was immediately attracted to the story of the stubbornly independent individual. After Steel Magnolias producer Ray Stark (who’d pictured the story as a vehicle for Paul Newman) lost the filming rights in 1998, Sweeney promptly picked them up. Recruiting friend and collaborator John Roach, she adapted Straight’s story into her first screenplay. Lynch, fresh off the lukewarm reception of his beguiling 1997 neo-noir Lost Highway, was given the script in hopes that he would share notes or suggestions with Sweeney. Instead, he was so taken with the story that he decided to direct the film himself - making The Straight Story the first (and so far only) movie that he had no part in writing.

Obviously Lynch recognized something special in the story of one man’s extremely slow journey across miles and miles of rural US farmland. Though not a flashy or particularly exciting story, Lynch threw himself wholeheartedly into this ode to the Midwest with a sort of relaxed assuredness that shows in the finished film.

A kind of languidly-paced road picture, everything in The Straight Story is done with the utmost care and attention to artistic detail. Citing the film as his “most experimental movie,” Lynch opted to shoot the film along the actual route taken by Straight, and to do so in chronological narrative order. As a result, the entire production feels as if it grows into itself as the film rolls on, the deliberate pacing making viewers feel as if they’ve joined the wizened character on his unique trip. This pacing never feels unnecessarily drawn-out, however, as viewers are treated to Straight’s impressions of the various locations he putters by, rather than being presented with some kind of idealized travelogue. Lynch and Sweeney allow not only each scene, but each moment to play out naturally and unrushed. A wonderful example of this comes in a scene where Alvin, having set up camp by the side of the road one night, is joined by a young, pregnant hitchhiker (played by Anastasia Webb.) The initially awkward, near silent dialogue between the two plays out as one imagines a conversation between a bitter young runaway and a stubborn old man would, each opening up about their lives a little after sizing the other up for a while.

Keep your eye on the doughnut, not on the hole...

Much of the reason the film works as well as it does is due to it’s unique ensemble of actors. Most obviously (and importantly,) the casting of veteran actor and former stuntman Richard Farnsworth as Alvin was immensely inspired. While well-known names such as James Coburn, John Hurt and Gregory Peck were tossed around, it seems that the lesser-known Farnsworth was always the filmmakers’ top choice for the role. Initially reluctant to take on the part (he had to be reassured the film was free of the foul language and “depravity” of Lynch’s prior works,) the 79-year old actor accepted the role out of admiration for the real Alvin Straight. Afflicted with terminal metastatic prostate cancer that had spread to his bones, Farnsworth suffered from paralysis of the legs, leading him (and his character) to walk with the aid of two canes. Years of experience, paired with physical pain and the full awareness of his own mortality, lends Farnsworth’s portrayal an authenticity not seen even in veteran “marquee” actors. Every line of dialogue sings with sincerity, and every action (from forming a wide smile during a rainstorm to shakily mounting his riding mower) is deeply felt. Lynch shoots Farnsworth with a painter’s eye, finding fascination in the way the sunlight plays across the well-worn features of his seasoned lead actor’s face.

Spacek doesn't wish to discuss the shower scene from Carrie again...

Besides Farnsworth, the rest of the cast shines in a number of more limited roles. Chief among them is Sissy Spacek, playing Alvin’s mentally-challenged adult daughter, Rose. A difficult role that could’ve been abused as an Oscar-baiting, method-acting showcase (or, in a different kind of film, insensitively played for cheap laughs,) Spacek - like Farnsworth - imbues her character with a quiet dignity, her expressive eyes betraying a deep well of emotion that’s absent from her more expository dialogue. Also of note is the late (and dearly missed) Harry Dean Stanton, who puts in a very brief appearance as Alvin’s brother, Lyle, at the film’s conclusion. Though only onscreen for a few minutes, Stanton carries the heavy emotional lifting of the two characters’ reunion, his deeply-lined face flushed with years of regret upon realizing that his brother drove hundreds of miles on a piece of lawn-care equipment to see him.

How's about a cup of Good Mornin' America?

Technically The Straight Story doesn’t feel out of place in Lynch’s filmography, thanks to the presence of many of his frequent collaborators. Cinematographer Freddie Francis, who’d worked on The Elephant Man (1980) and Dune, shoots the wind-blown cornfields of Iowa and Wisconsin with a kind of unshowy grandeur. Composer Angelo Badalamenti (who turned cool jazz sinister on Twin Peaks) tries his hand at a twangy, folksy score punctuated by his trademark lush string arrangements. Like the film itself, the music is simple but poetic, complimenting the onscreen action rather than distracting from it. Leaving the heavier emotional themes to play during otherwise silent shots of characters staring wistfully into the distance, Badalamenti’s music sometimes brought Lynch to tears during the editing of the film. Also of note (as it is in all of Lynch’s productions) is the film’s fantastic sound design. From the insect hum accentuated winds that pervade the fields of grain, to the startlingly aggressive sounds of thunderstorms and behemoth big-rigs that blast down the highway, the aural world created by Lynch (who’s been his own sound designer since 1992’s Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) is truly immersive.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum are here to fix your mower!

While it’s easy to see this G-rated film as an outlier in Lynch’s body of work, there are still several moments that point at his absurd sense of humor. At one point on his journey Alvin encounters a desperately upset woman (played by Barbara E. Robertson) who’s accidentally hit and killed a deer - and apparently has done so every single week along this particular stretch of road (that she has to take as part of her 40-mile commute.) After she drives off in an exasperated huff, Alvin decides to pull the deer off the road and cut it up for food, since he's running low on his supply of braunschweiger. He’s shown later cooking up deer meat on an open fire, glancing nervously over his shoulder as a number of obviously-on-purpose fake deer watch from nearby, accusingly. In another scene, while traveling down a steep hill, the brakes on Alvin’s mower go out. The terror is palpable as the elderly man attempts to steer his out-of-control machine to a safe stop without killing himself, the camera rapidly shifting perspectives and speeds while the sounds of the road and roaring mower raise to incredible, almost jet-engine-like intensity.

Sadly Bambi's fate mirrors that of his mother ...

What remains somewhat unique in the famed filmmaker’s oeuvre is the development of Alvin’s character over the course of the film. The stubbornly stoic Straight doesn’t necessarily change much during the film, beyond letting go of his pride in order to make amends with his brother - though Farnsworth’s performance certainly reveals moments of long-forgotten wonder as Alvin encounters new people and places along his journey. However, the further he goes along his way, the more Alvin opens up to those he meets - and the audience slowly forms a full picture of him. Perhaps initially seen as a stubborn old coot, by the time Alvin reaches his final destination we are aware of the guarded history behind his tired eyes. Alvin is transformed into a fully-formed, deeply flawed human being, haunted by past demons but wiser for accepting them. This is perhaps the biggest clue that this wasn’t a film penned by Lynch, who’s not a believer in the idea of a “character arc” - instead seeing his characters as a part of a wider artistic vision (or, at the most basic level, as interesting patterns of light and shadow burned into his film stock.)

Burns bright forever. No more blue tomorrows.

The Straight Story was released to select theaters in October of 1999, and apparently few flocked to see it. Already a tightly budgeted film made for a bit less than $10 million, the limited-release film made back $6.2 million in North America, and it’s gross in the rest of the world was apparently so small that it counts for less than 1% of it’s total earnings. This meager take, while not unusual for an independently-produced film, means that the it's never been one that Disney had anything to do with after it’s theatrical run and follow-up DVD release (my own current copy is a Japanese-produced Blu-ray, since Disney doesn’t have any interest in producing an HD upgrade.) This is unfortunate, since this is unquestionably a great film. While neither the best film associated with Disney (though I’d easily put in within the top ten) nor Lynch’s greatest work, this is still a film that deserves to be seen and appreciated. Luckily, Lynch is a well-enough known artist with a rather large following, so the film is in little danger of disappearing into obscurity anytime soon.

A symbol of my individuality.

While the film may’ve been seen as a financial disappointment at Disney, it was an immediate hit amongst critics. As noted above, it was rapturously received at Cannes, receiving a standing ovation and a nomination for the festival’s Palme d’Or award (which it lost to Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne’s Rosetta.) Along with the film’s numerous nominations and wins at smaller awards venues, Farnsworth was nominated for the Academy Award for Best actor - at 80 the oldest actor to receive the honor (until this past year, when 88-year old Christopher Plummer was nominated for Ridley Scott’s All The Money in the World.) Farnsworth lost to Kevin Spacey for his role in Sam Mendes’ American Beauty, interestingly the same (now disgraced) actor whom Plummer replaced in the aforementioned Scott film. Tragically, the following year the pain from his cancer grew too much for the actor to bear, and Farnsworth committed suicide at his ranch in New Mexico. He was interned at the Forest Lawn Memorial Park in the Hollywood Hills, next to his wife, Margaret, whom had passed 15 years prior.

Amongst the critics who heaped praise upon the film was famed reviewer Roger Ebert, who gave the film a “4 out of 4” rating (and a “Thumbs Up” on his Roger Ebert & The Movies program.) This is notable, since this was the very first positive review the well-known critic had ever given to a David Lynch-directed movie. He'd condemned his breakthrough film Blue Velvet with an infamous “1 out of 4” review, in which he stated “scenes of stark sexual despair … (are surrounded) with a story that’s marred by sophomoric satire and cheap shots.” Though Lynch’s reputation amongst the film industry’s so-called “critical establishment” had always been hit-or-miss, The Straight Story marked something of a late-career turning point. His following film, 2001’s Mulholland Dr., would go on to even greater critical and financial success, being named one of the new millennium's best films in a number of critical polls. Even Ebert gave it a “4 out of 4” rating in his contemporary review, stating that Lynch had "been working up toward Mulholland Dr. all of his career, and now that he’s arrived there I forgive him Wild at Heart and even Lost Highway."

Perhaps this was an important factor, if not the whole point, behind Lynch’s decision to make The Straight Story: to show the world (and his detractors) that he was, and always had been, a skilled filmmaker and highly expressive artist. In doing so, he proved that he could make great motion picture art without his trademark incomprehensible horrors or darkly phantasmagorical visuals. Sometimes even great artists need to pull back from their own artifice to show just what they’re capable of. For David Lynch, this “straight story” seemed to be just what was needed to make his Hollywood dreams come true.

And we, the audience, are like the dreamer.

The dreamer who dreams and lives inside the dream.

But who is the dreamer?