Is it a cop-out to honor David Lynch by reflecting on his least Lynchian film? Lynch, who passed away last week at the age of 78, was one of the most influential filmmakers, best known for dark, surrealist works like “Mulholland Drive” (2001), “Blue Velvet” (1986) and the television series “Twin Peaks.” The eponymous term “Lynchian” refers to the singular sense of dread and unease he could provoke by juxtaposing the mundane with the uncanny. Take, for instance, a moment early in “Blue Velvet” where a clean-cut college boy visiting his suburban hometown discovers a severed human ear squirming with ants in a vacant lot. The image is shocking and so out-of-place it feels like a waking nightmare.
Lynch’s “The Straight Story” (1999), however—written by Mary Sweeney and John E. Roach— is more like a lazy daydream. It’s a simple, sun-soaked story told with heart and gentle humor. It was, in fact, distributed by Walt Disney Pictures—the only Lynch film that would, or could, earn the House of Mouse’s patronage. Among Lynch fans, it is often considered a minor work. But even though “The Straight Story” is a stylistic departure (Lynch once referred to it as his “most experimental movie”), it embodies everything that made Lynch such an impactful and idiosyncratic artist. In particular: his rich empathy, and an earnest affection for our strange, beautiful country.
Based on a true story, the film follows Alvin Straight (Richard Farnsworth, in his final film role), an elderly Iowan who rides a lawnmower almost 300 miles on a quest to reconcile with his estranged brother Lyle in Wisconsin. The two haven’t spoken since a bitter argument a decade prior and Alvin, who suffers from emphysema and diabetes, wants to make things right while there’s still time. And so, with the help of his daughter Rose (Sissy Spacek), Alvin departs, towing a trailer with a tent and several pounds of hotdogs behind him. On the road he encounters other travelers—explorers, Good Samaritans and lost souls—all searching for their own sort of healing. And at the end of the journey, always over the next hill: his brother and the hope of reconciliation.
It’s a simple story that expresses profound truths: The importance of relationships, the power of connection, the need to travel together through life. Alvin isn’t a perfect man, and his lone ride is a sort of penance. But along the way he has to accept help from others, including a married couple who let him camp out on their yard while his lawnmower is being repaired, or a Catholic priest who lends him a sympathetic ear. At the same time, Alvin has years of hard-earned wisdom to share and ends up helping some of the strangers he meets, counseling a teen runaway who shares his campfire and a fellow World War II veteran still carrying the emotional wounds of combat.
Despite crafting some of the most horrifying images ever projected on a screen, Lynch worked from a place of total sincerity. There is humor and cruelty and terror in his films, but also a deep compassion for people (especially the oddballs) and a full-hearted affection for Americana. One doesn’t cancel out the other; the Lynchian vision holds them together, love and terror, kindness and brutality, peace and suffering. “The Straight Story” offers that vision without the dread that characterizes his most famous projects: Here, love leads the way, and goodness triumphs.
The film is also a showcase of the skills that made him such an incredible filmmaker. Arguably, the reason that Lynch was such a great surrealist was that he understood the rules of cinema and knew how to break them brilliantly. In “The Straight Story,” Lynch proves he can tell a story in classical style with equal aplomb, evoking the Westerns of John Ford on a much more ordinary scale. His trademark sound design, typically used to set your nerves on edge, is used here to bring out the moods and music of being on the road, making you feel like you’re riding along with Alvin.
And like any great filmmaker, he knew to surround himself with excellent collaborators. “The Straight Story” features the talents of several of Lynch’s defining partners, including a meditative guitar score by Angelo Badalamenti and sweeping cinematography of the Midwestern countryside by Freddie Francis. Sweeney, who co-wrote the script, produced, and edited the film, worked on many of Lynch’s major films and was even briefly married to him. In life, as in this film, Lynch understood that no one makes it alone.
“The Straight Story” carries additional metatextual poignancy now, after Lynch’s death. The inciting incident that makes Alvin ponder his mortality is an emphysema diagnosis; Lynch revealed that he suffered from the same disease last August, and it likely contributed to his death. Farnsworth was terminally ill during the production, which certainly informs his performance (he, sadly, took his own life the year after the film’s release). When Alvin receives his diagnosis, the doctor says, “If you don't make some changes quickly, there will be some serious consequences.” Alvin takes that advice to heart, but instead of trying to prolong his life, he focuses on doing something meaningful with the time he has left.
That might be the best way I could sum up Lynch’s work, which recognized the certainty of death and suffering, but also the importance of appreciating and creating beauty. Life is mysterious, and we don’t know when our journey might end. Hopefully we can take a lesson from Alvin, and Lynch: to spend our time well, and to spend it together.
“The Straight Story” is streaming on Disney+.
