The Elephant Man

Still of John Gielgud and Anthony Hopkins in The Elephant ManStill of Anthony Hopkins in The Elephant ManStill of Wendy Hiller in The Elephant ManStill of Anthony Hopkins in The Elephant ManStill of John Gielgud and Anthony Hopkins in The Elephant ManStill of Anthony Hopkins in The Elephant Man


A Victorian surgeon rescues a heavily disfigured man who is mistreated while scraping a living as a side-show freak. Behind his monstrous facade, there is revealed a person of intelligence and sensitivity.

Release Year: 1980

Rating: 8.3/10 (80,422 voted)

David Lynch

Stars: Anthony Hopkins, John Hurt, Anne Bancroft

Based on the true story of Joseph Merrick, a 19th-century Englishman afflicted with a disfiguring congenital disease. With the help of kindly Dr. Frederick Treves, Merrick attempts to regain the dignity he lost after years spent as a side-show freak.

Writers: Christopher De Vore, Eric Bergren


Anthony Hopkins

Frederick Treves

John Hurt

John Merrick

Anne Bancroft

Mrs. Kendal

John Gielgud

Carr Gomm

Wendy Hiller


Freddie Jones


Michael Elphick

Night Porter

Hannah Gordon

Mrs. Treves

Helen Ryan

Princess Alex

John Standing


Dexter Fletcher

Bytes' Boy

Lesley Dunlop


Phoebe Nicholls

Merrick's Mother

Pat Gorman

Fairground Bobby

Claire Davenport

Fat Lady

I am not an animal! I am a human being! I…am…a man!

Release Date: 10 October 1980

Filming Locations: Broadgate, London, England, UK

Box Office Details

Budget: $5,000,000


Gross: $26,010,864

Technical Specs


Did You Know?


Its 30 minutes into the film before we see John Merrick, and 40 minutes until we hear him talk.


In nearly every scene, John Hurt's make-up changes in some way.


[first lines]

Skeleton Man:
Get rid of them! I don't want to see them!

Fat Lady:
Darling, don't be difficult! Let's take our sweet lovely children on an outing.

User Review

a perfect film


If one was to turn on David Lynch's The Elephant Man midway through,
without knowing what it was, one might be startled at the appearance of
the main character. One might even be tempted to make fun of the
character. But if one was to watch the film from the beginning, one's
sympathy with John Merrick (John Hurt), 'The Elephant Man,' would be
strong enough to deny that the former situation was ever a possibility.
Lynch does not allow his audience to glimpse Merrick sans mask until
his appearance has been built up substantially. When we the audience
are at our zenith of anticipation, we see him-no dramatic music, no
slow motion; a simple cut and he's there. There he is. And it's no big

This is the beauty of Lynch's direction. We are led through our morbid
curiosity at the same rate the characters in the film are. We develop
alongside them. More specifically, we develop alongside Frederick
Treeves, played with an astounding sublimity of emotion by Anthony
Hopkins. Next to Treeves we pity Merrick, respect him, pity him again,
and then ask ourselves with him, 'is he just a spectacle to me? Am I a
bad person?'

Lynch certainly doesn't let us bypass this question easily. Are we bad
people for being intrigued or are we good people for pitying? Certainly
there is a mix of intrigue and pity with every character who first
meets John, and we are not excluded. However, as with almost every
character who truly comes to know John and confer with him, we learn to
respect him as a human being and not as a spectacle. Nonetheless, this
issue never finds close in the film, nor do I feel it ever can be
closed in actual life. Hopkin's Treeves is never fully sated in how he
feels about this dilemma, and so, neither can we be.

Technically, The Elephant Man is a beautifully shot film. In crisp
black and white, the film recalls the cinematic technique of American
cinema circa the 1930's. The scenes dissolve into one another; there is
no brisk editing. The lighting is kept low-key during dark scenes,
balanced during daytime scenes-this is standard film-making of the era.
The one digression from this form are the distinctly Lynchian
surrealities-pseudo-dream-sequences of commendably original imagery
that break up the film and serve as distinct mood-setters for the
audience. These are, for the most part, fairly intimidating sidenotes.
We as an audience are caught off-guard because in these tangents we are
not identifying with Treeves, we are put instead into Merrick's shoes.
It is unsettling.

But Lynch has never been a director to flinch at unsettling prospects.
We must watch Merrick beaten, abused, harassed, humiliated, and
tormented. We may feel a surge of happiness when he finally stands up
for himself, but by that point we still have to cope with what we've
already, what he's already, experienced. I suppose that is the greatest
and most devastating aspect of the film-empathy. Every moment is
heartbreaking. Yet no matter how hard it gets, and how much better it
then turns, there is always the threat of another jab. And those jabs
only get more and more painful.

The Elephant Man is a perfect film. It is sorrowful but it apologizes
not at all for it. It is a film about where our empathy stems from, a
film that asks you to feel sorry but rebukes you for your blind pity.
It asks you to respect Merrick, not cry for him. But you can't help
crying. The Elephant Man is a film that treks you through despair and
asks for your hope in the end. It asks you to hate humanity but to love
the humane. It asks you to look at a man who appears sad and know that
inside, he's okay.