David Lynch is dead. Filmmaker, artist, temporary weatherman, transcendental meditator and the last wholesome human being on the planet has left us, stranded, wandering amongst the owls and sycamore trees. Most well known for creating the weirdly wonderful tv show, “Twin Peaks”, and making movies like “Eraserhead” and “Mulholland Drive” that leave audiences scratching their heads, wondering what the heck they just watched.
Currently, I’m trying to recall how I was first introduced to David Lynch, but I seem to be drawing a blank. It’s as if he has always existed, has always been a part of my life. He’s like an ethereal being that transcends space and time. He was hear before we were all born and he’ll be here after the Sun goes supernova and burns our sector of the universe to a crisp.
I do remember, back when I was a teenager, watching his film “Blue Velvet” with my mother on a summer afternoon. It was an awkward screening, especially the scenes of graphic sexual violence perpetrated by Dennis Hopper’s character, Frank, one of the most evil characters in cinema’s history. Watching Isabella Rossellini’s character, completely in the buff, emotionally breaking down on the lawn in an Americana suburb was a haunting image for my mother and I to process. The two of us still talk about that film, and we talk about David Lynch and all that he’s done outside of film; his music, his art, his overt weirdness. It didn’t matter if you understood everything that he created, Lynch’s work always could spark conversation.
Once I was in film school, I, like most cinephiles, fell down the Lynch rabbit hole. PerhapsI fell down that hole harder than most of my peers. I remember watching “Mulholland Drive” with my friends. And then immediately watching it again, this time using the DVD insert which had printed on it a list of clues that Lynch had provided. The list didn’t really get us any closer to understanding the movie, in fact, the hints probably left us with more questions about the movie than answers. Then again, maybe that was Lynch’s intention all along.
AfterI was done devouring all his films, I moved on to his shorts which were weirder and wilder. His animated short series “Dumbland” was a hilarious and crude depiction of how discourse in this country was reaching an all time Cro-Magnian low. And then there was “Twin Peaks”. A show that I was able to binge in less than a week, trying to figure out who killed Laura Palmer, who or what exactly was Bob, and why is the Black Lodge so damn cool. Lynch’s last cinematic achievement was to resurrect his iconic show 25 years later for a third season. The return ran 18 episodes and it’s one of the greatest things ever to be put on television. There were three moments during that season that made me tear up. At the end of episode two, there’s a song that plays, Shadow by the Chromatics. The chorus repeats, “For the last time, for the last time” in hauntingly beautiful vocals. Listening to it, I realized that Lynch was telling the audience that this was the last time we were going to visit the not so sleepy town of Twin Peaks. Also, I think he knew that there was a good chance that this was his last time he was going to get to direct anything of substance. I cried.
I remember hearing a story about how Lynch, as a kid in Idaho, found a dead and bloated cow in a creek. He then took some sort of bat to the dead animal, trying to pop it. I’m not sure if he fabricated this story, but it perfectly shows his childlike fascination of death and destruction, that same morbid curiosity runs in all of us. But Lynch wasn’t all doom and gloom, he was a man that appreciated life and had a great, dry sense of humor. I think a lot of people take his films too seriously, and they miss the subtle jabs at society. We’re lucky enough to have a treasure trove of videos of Lynch living life to it’s fullest. I once spent a half hour watching a YouTube video of Lynch fixing quinoa, and it was one of the best videos I’ve ever stumbled upon. Even during the pandemic, Lynch would get on YouTube every morning and give us a daily weather report. This routine got a lot of people, including myself through that dark period.
It’s amazing just how many people he has inspired over the years. His surrealism and experimentalism created the term Lynchian. I can even see his influence in several Arkansas filmmakers, be it intentional or not. I’ve even, unknowingly, ripped off Lynch’s work. When I was teaching screenwriting at UCA, I would always show a clip of Lynch talking about where is ideas came from. He points off stage and says, “They’re in the room, just over there.” The interviewer then says, “Think about that for a moment.” And Lynch quickly retorts, “No, you think about that.”, as if never feeling the need to explain any of his mysterious plots. He’s one of the few artists that has been able to make ‘weird’ mainstream. And we as a culture are better because of his influence.
So it may feel like we have lost a friend, and artist, a guru today, but we should all feel fortunate that we were able to experience one of the most wholesome figures in the history of mankind. And even though most of his work is dark and wild at heart, Lynch always knew that there will always be a light just over the rainbow with beautiful blue skies and golden sunshine all along the way.
Leave a comment