When I heard the news that David Lynch had passed away at the age of 78 on Thursday, it made sense that my city was on fire. Few filmmakers understood the complexities of Los Angeles better than Lynch, and few yet felt so at home with its unique mix of otherworldly beauty and beauty. Disaster, sun, and noir. Los Angeles, after all, is where he shot his feature directorial debut, Eraserhead — well, this movie where a woman lives in a radiator and a baby is a slimy, stinky bobblehead. How should I describe this unique art film? alien. But now that David Lynch is gone and another part of this city seems to have gone with him, I'm at a loss.
Lynch was literally born in Missoula, Montana, but I think it's more accurate that he was born in Los Angeles. He went to school here, attended the American Film Institute (“Eraserhead” started as his student project!), and eventually founded a multiplex nearby, where he developed his distinctive twang. Now we can give you fun weather forecasts. In the one he recorded on May 11, 2020, he is sitting at a desk with several glasses on it and a mug in which he needs to pour black coffee. “This is Los Angeles,” he said, squinting out the window. “It's a little cloudy and foggy this morning,” he adds, spinning toward the camera to take the temperature. Have a nice day. “
I always literally accepted his approval to have a great day. Lynch has produced some of cinema's most disturbing and haunted work, but in interviews – peppered with his trademark “jeer'' interjections – he comes across as approachable. . Rather, he seemed almost normal acting-wise, which made him seem even weirder. My friend and critic John Powers sat down with Lynch in 2001, the year his masterpiece Mulholland Drive was released. “He still reminds me of Jimmy Stewart, not Mr. Smith going to Washington, but the grizzled obsessive from Vertigo,” Powers wrote. “His bright smile had lost its innocence,” Powers wrote.
Rarely have I received as angry a response as I did for Mulholland Drive, which I raved about. People didn't just disagree; They seemed as enraged by my review as they were by the movie. Among the most vocal criticisms was that it didn't make sense, which irritated some viewers to the point of outrage. The thing is, when I first saw it, it confused me as much as it surprised me. Movies seem self-explanatory, but Lynch never was. To make matters worse, he was creating art in an industry that despises not only art but also artists who don't conform to its orthodoxy, unless it's displayed on the walls of a mansion. If his relationship with Hollywood was difficult, it was because even when he made more establishment-sanctified films, he was never one of its members, artistically, spiritually, or otherwise. It didn't look like it was a club.
