The Straight Story
David Lynch has called “The Straight Story” his most experimental film, and I actually kind of see what he’s saying. More so than at any other time in his career, he takes the artistic success of a film out of his own hands, and puts it squarely in the hands of his collaborators. The result is not his best film, but it’s a beautiful one that only he could make.
The film tells the story of Alvin Straight who, in 1994, hopped on his riding lawnmower, and traveled from Iowa to Wisconsin to go visit his estranged brother, Lyle, who has just had a stroke. Along the way, Straight experiences the kindness of strangers in a way that feels like a work of fiction, but the screenplay by John Roach and Lynch’s longtime collaborator, Mary Sweeney, is genuine in how it paints the people Alvin meet along the way. While yes, we are bound to meet people who will be cruel and hurtful to us in life, more often than not, people will be like the ones Alvin meets. He’s a stubborn individual, but a genuinely good person, with a worthwhile goal; who wouldn’t want to help him accomplish it? For someone whose work has often looked to expose the wicked underbelly of small-town America, “The Straight Story” is probably the most optimistic Lynch has ever been about humanity, and it’s something that comes out remarkably well in this film.
It’s sad to think that Richard Farnsworth, who was Oscar-nominated for his work as Alvin in this film, took his own life less than a year after this film was released; given that terminal cancer had made his body a constant pain- even during the production of this film- it’s as understandable a choice as one could make (if you can ever call suicide that), which makes it all the sadder to consider. This movie made me cry, largely because there is a light and heart that comes through in Farnsworth’s performance that feels like someone giving everything he has to an emotional journey, as well as a personal one, that might be his last one. That, in and of itself, means something, but the fact that it is to make peace with his past, and his brother, gives it real weight. How Farnsworth went to work every day, given the physical ailments he had at the time, is as inspiring as what Alvin Straight did. When we first meet Alvin, he has fallen after his daughter, Rose (Sissy Spacek), has left briefly, and the aftermath of that, including a doctor’s visit, sets the stakes for the character as he goes on his trip. It’s a strong piece of storytelling and exposition that gives us our bearings for just how difficult this trip is going to be Alvin. That the process of telling his story was similarly difficult for Farnsworth is a big part of how this film works.
Sissy Spacek is really lovely in her brief appearance in the film as Alvin’s daughter. She is mentally disabled, but she is plenty capable of watching over him, and has a strong sense of protectiveness for him that gives us more to latch on to, emotionally speaking, in this film. I’m not the biggest fan of the vocal tic she has afflicted for the role, though have no doubt that it is based on reality, but her warmth in the performance is palpable. She gives Alvin someone to ground him at the beginning, and her protective nature seems to carry over to the people Alvin meets along the way to visit his brother, whom he does make it to, leading to one of the most beautiful endings I’ve ever seen as Alvin shares a moment with Lyle, who is played by Harry Dean Stanton, and only has a couple of lines of dialogue, which are delivered perfectly.
I said earlier that Lynch takes the artistic success of “The Straight Story” out of his hands, and puts them in someone else’s. Those hands are his longtime cinematographer, Freddie Francis, and composer, Angelo Badalamenti. Though the rest of his filmmography is filled with rich visuals and music and sound design, the ultimate success and failure of a “Mulholland Drive” or “Blue Velvet” or “Wild at Heart” falls on Lynch as a storyteller. In this film, he turns that over to Francis and Badalamenti, and the result is one of his richest cinematic experiences. They capture the loneliness of Alvin’s journey, and the warmth of the people he meets along the way. Francis’s beautiful images and Badalamenti’s score make up with third piece of the film that makes it as great as it is alongside Farnsworth’s performance. Lynch is the maestro who puts them all together for his most unconventional masterpiece.
