Content note: This essay discusses sexual assault, abortion, and trauma in detail.
This analysis is uncoached by the original book or any media the author, David Lynch, or the main actors have made available, nor by any outtakes or deleted scenes, with one exception: I used David Lynch’s characterization of the story as “love in hell”. I hope that the material I cite from the film itself make my positions plausible, though I welcome feedback. AI tools were used to weld together the essay from several smaller ones, but the vast bulk of what you see here is my own work.
Foundation – Lula’s Multiple Traumas:
Lula Pace Fortune is sexually assaulted at 13 and undergoes a traumatic abortion, presumably as a consequence. The abortion scene reveals perhaps the most devastating aspect of her early trauma: she is completely alone. There is no one to comfort her during such a painful procedure, no one to hold her hand while she flails in pain, no one to soothe her with words. The blood thrown in a waste paper basket makes her seem like just a piece of meat robbed of personhood. The adults who should have been protecting her have failed her utterly. This experience of being abandoned in her suffering – isolated, dehumanized, treated as disposable – becomes a core trauma that shapes everything that follows.
She’s protected by her beloved “sweet” father, but a few years later, he dies by fire – initially portrayed to her as self-immolation, but actually murdered by her mother Marietta’s lover Santos. This creates layered trauma: sexual violation, an abortion in complete isolation, and abandonment trauma when her father’s perceived “suicide” leaves her vulnerable. She has lost her protector and now faces the horror of violent death by burning, all while being at the mercy of her murderous mother.
Sailor’s Entry and the Karmic Chain:
A year after her father’s death, Lula meets Sailor Ripley, who worked for Santos and was present when the house burned during her father’s murder–something Lula doesn’t know at first. Marietta sees Sailor as a threat – perhaps because he could incriminate her, perhaps simply because she doesn’t want such a strong advocate for Lula in the picture. She hesitantly gets Santos to put a hit on Sailor, setting in motion a karmic chain: Marietta → Santos → Mr. Reindeer → Bobby Peru and Perdita. This chain of causation creates escalating consequences from one negative choice, with Marietta setting forces in motion she cannot fully control. Perhaps to symbolize this, Marietta uses lipstick to paint her entire face a demonic red.
When someone attempts to murder Sailor, he kills the attacker in self-defense but goes to prison for manslaughter. Lula has now lost her second protector, and the pattern of abandonment repeats. She has no one to shield her from Marietta.
The Genuine Love and Connection:
When Sailor is released on parole, Lula is overjoyed. Their relationship contains real, genuine elements of healthy love: they experience mutual sexual pleasure, with Lula noting that Sailor is attentive to her, that their bodies “talk” to each other, that he “moves” her and “marks her most deeply.” They say “I love you” to each other. He serenades her, protects her, and creates romantic interludes with her. Lula refers to their intimacy as “making love,” not just sex. Sailor is grateful for Lula’s loyalty during his imprisonment and calls her “perfect” for him. He never has a negative word for her, never does anything threatening toward her. She trusts him completely, takes solace in him, and has genuine fun with him. Lula compares Sailor to her father, showing how he has taken over the protector role in her life.
This genuine love and mutual care is not performance or illusion – it’s real connection, real joy, real mutual pleasure and trust.
The Road Trip and Dual Nature of Their Sexuality:
Sailor plans to whisk Lula away from her terrible home situation by driving to California, first stopping in New Orleans because Lula loves the city. Everything is dialed up – singing, dancing, going out, smoking, and especially sex.
Their explosive sex life operates on two levels simultaneously. On one level, it is genuinely healing for Lula. Many sexual abuse survivors struggle to achieve orgasm, but this is no problem for Lula with Sailor. He is attentive, attuned, present, adoring, and loyal. He respects her agency completely, including where and when they make love. They reach orgasm together on at least one occasion, symbolizing genuine mutuality and reciprocity. He protects her from sexual predation by others, as when a man grabs her at a concert and Sailor makes him apologize to Lula, centering her dignity rather than his own possession. Critically, Sailor bears witness to her trauma – he is her memory, refusing to let her forget she was raped at 13 when she tries to push that violation out of her sexual history.
On another level, however, Lula is also using sex and excitement to anesthetize her pain from abuse and abandonment. Despite knowing from personal experience that unprotected sex can lead to pregnancy, when Lula actually becomes pregnant, it comes as an unpleasant surprise and she’s initially skeptical about keeping the baby. This reveals that she’s been mythologizing their sexual relationship – treating it as wonderful sex with an ideal virile partner where nothing can go wrong and no difficult consequences can follow. The sex has been so healing and idealized that she couldn’t allow practical concerns or potential negative outcomes to intrude on the protective spell.
She is also using sex and other forms of excitement to keep Sailor from leaving her. When she picks him up from prison, one of the first things she does is tell him she’s booked a hotel room for sex and that they’ll be going to a high-octane concert afterward – keeping everything intense, fun, and exciting. When a scene illustrates Sailor recounting a past sexual exploit with another woman, Lula becomes immediately sexually aroused and wants to have sex right away. On the surface, this is verbal foreplay – young, passionate people making up for lost time. On a deeper level, however, hearing about Sailor with another woman triggers her abandonment fear, and she responds by sexually enticing him with super-evocative language (“hotter ‘n Georgia asphalt,” noting the other woman’s refusal of fellatio was “her loss”). The subsequent sex scenes are among the film’s most explosive and graphic, with Lula clearly demonstrating she’s more sexually available than any other woman could be. Notably, years passed between Lula’s rape and meeting Sailor, yet she never mentions any sexual partners she may have had in the interim, suggesting either there were none (only rape and possibly other abuse) or she fears mentioning them might alienate him.
When depressing news items come on the car radio as they’re driving through the desert, Lula cannot abide them. She stops the car, gets out, and demands music. Sailor complies and they dance with abandon, then hold each other romantically. Everything must have a happily-ever-after quality for Lula. She cannot face difficult reality and needs constant positivity, romance, stimulation, and excitement – using this intensity to drown out pain and difficult truths, to keep Sailor bound to her, and to avoid facing the trauma that lurks beneath the surface.
The Crisis in Big Tuna, Texas:
When the money runs out and the pregnancy comes to light in the dismal town of Big Tuna, Texas, this ideal fun, sexy, loud, self-asserting, healing adventure comes to a sudden end. The anesthetizing strategy collapses. Lula doesn’t clean up her morning sickness vomit, and the smell hangs over them like a miasma, perfectly symbolizing the new pressure the pregnancy puts on them and representing unavoidable unpleasant reality that can no longer be ignored or danced away. Despite their love, despite Lula wearing enticing see-through lingerie constantly, there doesn’t seem to be any more healing sex – pregnancy has changed their physical relationship. Lula wears the lingerie desperately, trying to maintain the sexual connection that serves as her lifeline against trauma. She spends her days chain smoking in their hotel room, with no stimulation.
Just as the sexual anesthetic stops working, Lula is sexually abused again by the villainous Bobby Peru. When he corners and gropes her, she freezes in terror – a classic trauma response to sexual threat. Her hand clenches (the visual opposite of how her fingers splay in orgasm during consensual sex with Sailor, showing the difference between consent and violation). The scene is not seduction but coerced compliance under threat. Bobby Peru forces her to say sexual words, terrorizing her into frozen compliance. He doesn’t rape her only because he needs to murder Sailor first per his contract. This is part of the karmic chain set in motion by Marietta.
Following this assault, Lula nearly has a nervous breakdown and becomes despairing about the future. Sailor is imprisoned again after a botched robbery carried out with Bobby Peru – a robbery Sailor only agreed to because he wanted money to care for pregnant Lula, and where he insisted that no one would be hurt. Everything Lula was using sex and excitement to prevent has happened anyway: she’s been assaulted again and Sailor has been taken from her, leaving her at the mercy of Marietta and Santos.
Six Years Later – The Transition Crisis:
Six years later, Lula picks up Sailor from his second prison stint. He meets their son Pace for the first time. The boy is significantly named after Lula’s own middle name, not “Sailor Jr.” This naming represents Lula permanently asserting her personhood after being raped and made into a disposable object at 13. Her identity matters and will continue through her son. She chose this name whether the child would be boy or girl, exercising agency over her own legacy. “Pace” also suggests measured forward movement – tempering wildness with wisdom, a middle path between extremes.
Marietta is in terrible shape – the negative karma from setting the chain of violence in motion has returned to her, leaving her weakened and diminished. Lula has the strength to prevent her interference. Marietta’s picture, when splashed with water, disappears like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz, revealing that some of her power was illusion sustained by Lula’s fear.
But as Lula drives Pace and Sailor home, she suddenly stops the car, gets out, and leans against the rear bumper crying. This isn’t simply being overcome by emotion – if it were, she would collapse into Sailor’s arms and kiss him while crying. Instead, the physical distance (getting out of the car, leaning away from him) reveals something else. She loves him desperately, but she doesn’t know how to relate to him anymore. She’s a parent now. While pregnancy hasn’t done much to weather her body since she’s only 26, she can’t use her normal pattern of fun-loving sexual availability. She can’t just hop in his car and drive to California and hang out in lingerie anymore. She feels exposed, perhaps having to deal with the pain of sexual abuse trauma without the usual tonic of intense sexuality and excitement. She fears that without being able to perform the hypersexuality she thought kept Sailor, he won’t want her anymore.
The Near-Abandonment and Resolution:
Sailor misinterprets her tears as rejection and, combined with his own feelings of unworthiness given his criminal past as “a robber and a manslaughterer” who is “wild at heart,” decides leaving might be best for Lula and Pace. This makes everything worse – Lula’s fear that Sailor will abandon her like her father essentially abandoned her has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Both are wrong about what the other needs.
After being beaten up by a gang, Sailor has a vision of the Good Witch who tells him: “Don’t give her up, Sailor.” He runs back through traffic, climbs on top of Lula’s car, and serenades her with “Love Me Tender” – the song he’s reserved for a marriage proposal.
His message addresses both her core wounds. For her sexual trauma: “You don’t have to perform hypersexuality to keep me. You don’t have to be the wild girl anymore. I love YOU – not just the intense sex. Our love is good enough as it is. Tender constancy is deeper than wild intensity.” For her abandonment trauma: “I’m choosing you permanently. I won’t abandon you like your father did. I won’t do something stupid that will land me in jail again. You won’t suffer in isolation anymore. You’re not disposable – you’re loved permanently. We don’t have to constantly be ‘Wild at Heart’ anymore.”
The Spiritual and Philosophical Resolution:
The resolution represents transition from adrenaline-based survival strategies to sustainable mature love. Lynch, influenced by decades of Transcendental Meditation practice, creates a film exploring a sattvic middle path. The protagonists, particularly Lula, have been running from their pain through constant excitement – sex, dancing, concerts, music, smoking, driving – everything intense, loud, and fast. This is the opposite of meditation’s stillness, representing attachment to extreme states cause suffering.
While there is real danger (Santos’s hit on Sailor creating genuine external threats), some of the power is illusion. Marietta’s picture melting with water reveals that her influence was partly real threat, partly Lula’s fear giving it power. The antidote is the middle path, personified in their son Pace – not stillness (stagnation) nor wild running (exhausting intensity), but measured, sustainable, balanced progress.
The film shows the spiritual journey from fear-based living (constant excitement to keep Sailor, sexual intensity as anesthetic, running away geographically) to love-based living (genuine love that doesn’t require constant proof, existing in ordinary moments, tender constancy rather than manic intensity). Lula can now enjoy the good things in their relationship without dialing them up as a shield against her fears.
This doesn’t mean the end of sex or joy – Lynch is not anti-sex. Sex will certainly remain part of their life, but not as the anesthetic numbing pain or the glue holding them together. Instead, it becomes one expression of love within a relationship grounded in tender constancy. They can begin a new chapter of just “being” together, not always running at full speed. They can have sex, joy, and music without needing constant peak intensity. Life can have difficult moments (unplanned pregnancy, money troubles, legal troubles, aging, parenthood) and they’ll be okay anyway, moving forward at a sustainable pace rather than exhausting themselves through defensive intensity.
Visual and Symbolic Language:
Lynch uses consistent visual language throughout to distinguish consent from violation. During consensual sex with Sailor, Lula is filmed as a whole person with her face always included, showing her personhood maintained even in intimate moments. Her fingers splay during orgasm, representing release, pleasure, and safety. During Bobby Peru’s assault, she is filmed in fragments – body parts isolated and dehumanized – and her hand clenches in tension and fear, the visual opposite of pleasure.
Red appears ambiguously throughout: representing death and trauma (her father’s death by fire, blood from rape, blood from abortion) but also life and passion (red screen during lovemaking, Lula’s red nails and red heels as choice and self-expression). Cigarettes and matches are similarly ambiguous – post-coital ritual (good) and harbinger of death (e.g., Sailor’s parents probably died from smoking-related illness).
The Wizard of Oz framework structures the entire film as a journey through dangerous lands to find home and safety, with evil forces (Marietta as Wicked Witch) trying to prevent it and the Good Witch appearing at the crucial moment to offer guidance. “Home” isn’t Kansas but safety and love with Sailor.
Thematic Architecture:
Wild at Heart demonstrates Lynch’s consistent moral framework about sexuality and relationships. Sexual violence represents the ultimate violation of personhood – treating someone as object rather than person, destroying trust and safety, creating trauma that fragments identity. Healing requires safety, attunement, mutuality, and respect for agency. Good men like Sailor (and Jeffrey Beaumont in Blue Velvet, to cite another Lynch film) make mistakes but demonstrate love through actions, not just words, maintaining non-possessiveness by respecting their partner’s agency in all things. The film shows that mature love offers tender constancy beyond performance – genuine love doesn’t require constant peak intensity but can survive ordinary life, aging, decreased intensity, and difficult realities.
The karmic chain initiated by Marietta demonstrates sattvic spiritual principles: negative actions create ripples of consequences that extend far beyond the initial act, ultimately harming the perpetrator as the negative energy returns to them. Marietta tried to destroy Sailor and Lula’s love but ended up destroying her own power and health, weakened and easily defanged by the end.
Lynch is exploring how women negotiate sexual abuse and abandonment trauma, showing that trauma survivors can experience genuine love and pleasure while having trauma responses that affect their behavior. They can use healthy things like sexuality and connection in defensive ways while still having real joy and mutual care. All of these can coexist. The film shows genuine love and passion while also exploring how trauma shapes sexual behavior and relationships – both the surface eroticism and the underlying psychological patterns are real and present simultaneously.
Ultimately, Wild at Heart is about finding love in hell and making the transition from survival strategies that work temporarily to sustainable love that can last. For Lula specifically, it’s about moving from using sexuality defensively to being loved for herself beyond any performance, allowing her to relax into security that doesn’t depend on constant proof, intensity, or the terror of being alone in her suffering.