The film world lost one of its signature cinematic voices today with the passing of independent film legend David Lynch at the age of 78.
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What's fun/funny about Lynch is that his passing will probably prompt a bunch of folks to check out his work for the first time...and a bunch of them are going to hate it. And a bunch of them will probably love it for reasons that are hard to articulate. Which is the sign of a great artist in my opinion. I'd rather have people love or hate my work, than be lukewarm on it.
My first viewing experience of Lynch's work was actually the least "Lynchian" of the bunch, The Straight Story, a straightforward, melancholic story about a man who journeys across state lines to visit his brother via a lawnmower. An unexpected movie in Lynch's career that was followed by the second of Lynch's movies I watched, Mullholland Drive which is as terrifying, dream-logic filled and completely in line with Lynch's preferred style. I liked them both.
From there I went down the rabbit hole with a number of Lynch's films that are considered essential including Blue Velvet, Eraserhead and The Elephant Man which was produced by Mel Brooks of all people after Brooks saw Eraserhead. I liked those as well, even if the experimental style of filmmaing Lynch often referred back to wasn't always for me.
There's a lot of things that folks like to point out about Lynch's work, as I've done many times. His affection for dream logic or literal dream sequences in his work. How he liked to highlight the ugly underbelly of seemingly safe places like a sleepy town or suburb. Or his affection for weirdness in his performers or with his visuals.
The best thing I can say about Lynch is that his work demands something from the viewer. Either to accept this exaggerated vision reality or to put together the pieces of what's happened in his dream logic ridden films. It wasn't always for me, but over time I've come to appreciate it.
What stands out the most to me about David Lynch is that despite a lot of the labels he's been given over his career, he doesn't fit almost any of them. As much as Lynch's artistic image is that of an unappreciated auteur or cult filmmaker he also made big movies for big studios like the original film adaptation of Dune and was nominated for an Oscar for The Elephant Man, something fellow cult fave John Waters has never come close to achieving (not a dig by the by).
Despite the reputation for Lynch putting female characters through the ringer in his films, almost all of the women he's worked with have sung him praises and talked about how comfortable and enjoyable their experience was working with him. It also says something that so many of Lynch's projects feature female leads and speak to a number of difficult female experiences (see Mulholland Drive's straight-forward depcition of mutual attracted women trying to make it in Hollywood).
He was a filmmaker who said his sensibilities felt more European, who also had an entire documentary made about his film's connections/ties and references to The Wizard of Oz.
As a man, he was just as mercurial. One moment he would write his support of Roman Polanski, the next he would throw his weight behind the Black Lives Matter movement or Bernie Sanders Presidential Campaign...right before he said the most middle-aged white guy stuff you've ever heard. Whatever you thought about him, there was usually something he did or said to contradict it.
But what do Lynch's movies mean to me?
What I loved about Lynch is that his work always evoked something in me. He was very, very good at capturing the emotions of his stories and putting them up on screen whether it was joy, terror, or the existential dread of becoming a parent, those feelings/messages got through. Lynch understood the emotional language and impact of film, which is why, at least in my opinion, he never wanted to give definitive answers about his most experimental work. Whatever you felt is what's real, and whatever answer he gave you would always be less satisfying.
This is the experimental instinct that runs through all of Lynch's work. That whether or not what you're watching is a vision of reality, completely made up, or white noise on screen, doesn't matter. What matters is that the audience felt something. And I'm so glad Lynch got to provoke so many audiences and artists with his work.
Rest in Peace Mr. Lynch.
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