2021 In Film

Every year, I take the month of January to catch up on as many of the films I missed throughout the year as I can. This post/list/sleep aid is the result of my annual maniacal start to the new year. And yeah, I realize it’s nearly February but the academy has only begun their own voting process. So shhhhhhhhhhhhut it.

One of the final films on my list to see was Spielberg’s remake of “West Side Story.” This one always seemed like a bad idea. Why remake something widely regarded as a stone cold classic? Now, specifically for me, West Side Story holds a special place in my heart. This was a family film for me growing up. Both my parents were fans and showed the film to my brother and I beginning when we were still pretty young. For my mother to be a fan was no surprise. She liked cool things like Martin Scorsese and David Lynch.

Quick side note: My mother really was my introduction to two of my all-time favorite directors in the two aforementioned gentlemen. As a small kid, I was really into Star Wars. I also loved to read and so my mother figured I’d like Dune. That was my introduction to David Lynch. I didn’t just watch movies, I would also read the boxes in the rental store and study the opening credits. Dune was based on a book and so I immediately had respect for it, lol. It was directed by David Lynch and I knew that was super important because it was the final name listed. Okay, Dune rocked this little kid’s socks and Lynch was on the radar.

I was still too young to really dive into Lynch though, lmao. I remember my parents renting Blue Velvet and me trying to sneak into the hallway to catch some of it because I was most definitely not allowed to watch that one yet myself. Next up was Twin Peaks and I remember my mom being really into the show and though I didn’t understand a lot of what was going on, it was Lynch and the guy from both Dune and Blue Velvet and so I watched some of it too. Those who know me know that in the years since, Lynch has established himself as my all-timer and Twin Peaks rivaled perhaps only by LOST as my favorite piece of visual entertainment ever.

But I digress.

We were discussing 2021 in film and I just whisked us away to the 1980s for two separate tangents. Back to tangent number one. The real kicker was that my father loved West Side Story. “But dad, it’s a musical.” My father was always your prototypical country boy tough guy. He was happiest watching Robert Redford trudge through the snow for three straight hours. He loved Chuck Norris and shit like that.

And…a musical?

Yep.

So West Side Story was the rare treat where the entire family could bond over something we all pretty much equally enjoyed. My skepticism of the remake remained for a long time. Yeah, I know it’s Spielberg and he’s responsible for my favorite film of all-time. Hell, He’s responsible for probably two of my top three films of all-time. Double hell, he’s probably got a half dozen films in my top twenty five. What the hell was I worried about?

Spielberg hasn’t seemed like himself in a long time. A loooooong time. In recent years, it’s felt like he’s either lost the rhythm or the joy. Well, even if it was only for one film, he regained it all back because the West Side Story remake is an absolute triumph.

This triggered another thought: Man, I haven’t seen “The Outsiders” in a long time. And I’m happy to report that in recent years, Coppola has revisited his film and added scenes back in — scenes deemed unnecessary to the runtime when originally released. Adding these scenes back in allows the story to focus on what was always most important: the relationships between these damaged and sensitive boys. It helps show the macho antics as armor and the giant rumble near the end of the film as the useless exercise in toxic masculinity that it always was. If you haven’t seen the film before, or haven’t seen it in a long time, first read the book. Always read the book. But then go ahead and check out “The Complete Novel” version of the film. I think you’ll be glad you did. (The courtroom scene is still hilariously terrible though)

And now, several million words into this manifesto, we have the films of 2021. First off, 2021 electrified me as a film lover way more than 2020 did. These twenty five films I liked quite a bit and there are fifteen more that I’ll add on at the end that I also really enjoyed. There are at least seven films on this list that I love enough to have already purchased on disc or plan to — maybe more. But enough is enough and it’s time for the list.

1. DRIVE MY CAR – This is the most recent film I’ve scene and caused me to completely rewrite everything about this list. (Full disclosure: I always anticipated this though) The moment I read about this film coming out of Cannes, I was in. The trailer was great and it was based on a short story by Haruki Murakami, one of my all-time favorite authors. Still, I was blown away by the humanized beauty of what I saw for three hours the other night. The film is full of moments where humans are human and that’s all. It’s simple and profound. It will make you smile and laugh and cry real, deep, emotional tears. A film about the highs and lows of life and how trying to subdue yourself into the middle road can lead you nowhere. Cigarettes hanging out of the sunroof. Those who’ve seen it know what that means.

2. C’MON C’MON – A film where Joaquin Phoenix plays a documentarian who is tasked with taking care of his young nephew for a few weeks. Until I finally saw Drive My Car, this was firmly at the top of my list. Joaquin Phoenix is everything anyone could ever want in an actor. His range, both intellectual and emotional, is fucking limitless. He is as good an actor as I have ever seen and this may be my favorite ever performance from him. Another film about human beings trying their best to be human beings. And another film that made me weep.

3. THE GREEN KNIGHT – Art. This film is like an interactive art exhibit come to life. Mesmerizing and deeply strange and perfectly told. Every single shot in this one feels like it could hang on the wall of a museum. Seriously dropped my jaw. Dev Patel is one of the most underrated actors working today and I hope he and David Lowery continue making art together.

4. WEST SIDE STORY – My favorite Spielberg film since…I don’t even know? Munich (seriously underrated Spielberg) or Minority Report? Nah, it’s better than those. Saving Private Ryan? Nah, I think I prefer this to that one as well. Schindler’s List? Okay, maybe there’s the line. Still, that was nearly thirty years ago but also marks the moment where I feel like Spielberg became a bit more serious and eventually his worked suffered as the message began to smother the joy of the work. For me, he recaptured nearly all of the joy and cleverness from his 70s and 80s output with West Side Story. It’s only sad to me that it released during a pandemic where a ton of new eyes have yet to find it.

5. THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH – The best adaptation of this work I have ever seen. Another jaw dropper. Minblowingly beautiful for every single second of it’s runtime. Joel Coen laid waste to anyone even thinking of adapting Shakespeare. Someone asked me: How was Denzel? And I was like: The fuck? I just told you to see this at all costs, that it’s a masterpiece and Denzel fucking Washington is playing Macbeth. How do you think he was?

Okay, I wasn’t quite that mean about it but for real? It’s Denzel and yes he crushes it. CRUSHES it. Also, Corey Hawkins delivers what should be a star making performance in this as Macduff.

6. LICORICE PIZZA – Paul Thomas Anderson has yet to make I film I haven’t dug. I feel like he’s one of those filmmakers whom I occupy the same mental wavelength with. Licorice Pizza is no different. There’s been a ton written about this film already and I disagree with a lot of it. I can see where the criticisms are coming from but I personally feel like the film was aiming at something totally different. I’m not going to get into it all here — maybe later, around late March perhaps? But this was maybe the funniest film of the year. Cooper Hoffman. This was his first film? Alana Haim. This was her first film? Jesus Christ these two had insane chemistry together and total command over every scene. And there’s Bradley Cooper who gave this year’s most hilariously over the top performance. Every single second of Cooper in this is a riot. He damn near steals the entire film in about four scenes. Another future purchase for me.

7. THE POWER OF THE DOG – The first third of this film, I thought Campion had seriously miscast the role of Phil Burbank with Benedict Cumberbatch. Whoops. Jane Campion deserves to win every directing award handed out for her work on this film. I’m glad to see she was nominated by the DGA already. “The Power Of The Dog” unfolds like a really great, challenging book (which it was based on). Campion sets each scene with precision and every actor in the film each give subtle yet profound performances. This one surprised me.

8. NIGHTMARE ALLEY – Bradley Cooper again! I’m a huge fan of Guillermo Del Toro. He’s on that list of: show me nothing just tell me where to be and I’ll see it. Nightmare Alley is like a rotten onion of a movie where each layer gets peeled back to reveal a little bit more of the worst of mankind. It’s marvelous and the most gorgeous movie of the year. Also my favorite film score of the year. Also easily the best final scene of any film this year. Fucking haunting.

9. THE FRENCH DISPATCH – I love Wes Anderson. And this was maybe the most Wes Anderson film Wes Anderson has ever made. It’s almost like he could sense someone was about to make a “Wes Anderson type” film and said to himself: well, allow me to set the bar a little higher. Loved it. Give me more. I hope Bill Murray lives forever.

10. PIG – The surprise of the year for me. I’m a huge fan of Nicolas Cage. He never stops and more importantly he’s never stopped giving a damn about his work. He is always “all-in.” If you’re a filmmaker and just hired Nicolas Cage, you’re getting 100% of him. I have an immense amount of respect for Cage exactly because this is his outlook. He’s amazing. And “Pig” ended up being a completely different film than I thought it would be, albeit a much better film. It completely subverts genre conventions and plays with the dead carcass of those old thoughts. Plus, this is the best Nicolas Cage performance in DECADES. Hey Academy voters, nominate him you cowards!

11. RAGING FIRE – Donnie yen. Nicolas Tse. Abandoned church fight with a sledge hammer. You’re welcome.

12. DELIVER US FROM EVIL – Operatic violence only the way the eastern hemisphere can deliver these days.

13. BOILING POINT – Single camera shot drama about the owner/chef of a restaurant on a busy night. Stephen Graham is one helluva actor.

14. THE HAND OF GOD – From the director of “The Italian Beauty.” More unbelievable Italian artistry on display by Sorrentino. Another one that snuck up on me.

15. THE HARDER THEY FALL – Jonathan Majors is poised to be a HUGE star. Great dialog. Great cast. Cool as fuck. Great time. Plus: Delroy Lindo!

16. DUNE – Yes I talked about the Lynch version earlier. I realize that wasn’t a great adaptation of the novel. This one is. Epic filmmaking from Denis Villeneuve.

17. VAL – I love Val Kilmer and I miss him being in movies. This was a true treat from one of my all-time favorite actors.

18. Roadrunner – I cried the day Bourdain died and I’m getting emotional typing these words now. I cannot understate how much of an inspiration Bourdain has always been for me. I miss him so much every single day.

19. GODZILLA VS KONG – Big dumb fun with just enough heart. A script that knows to just get out of the way and also that Kong should be a part of the emotional core of the film. What do you want me to say? I love Kong.

20. LAST NIGHT IN SOHO – A weird one for me. Super fun, messy movie. I dug it a lot but still probably my least favorite Edgar Wright film. I’m not dissing it because I’ve liked all of his work and he’s another filmmaker where my only question is: what’s next and where do I need to be?

21. THE SUICIDE SQUAD – James Gunn cracks me the fuck up. He just does. I’m laughing right now thinking about the animation of how King Shark runs. It’s fucking hilarious. I laughed so hard, like three minutes in that I missed the next five minutes. Plus, it’s now spawned the Peacemaker show and that one is pure chaotic joy.

22. CANDYMAN – I like this one. Very pretty to look at. Felt like a cool idea for a legacy sequel.

23. COPSHOP – The attitude on display makes up for anything else this film might lack. Carnahan can be hit or miss for me but this was a definite hit. A good, old fashioned, 70s throwback of a stupid action flick. It’s good.

24. OLD HENRY – Another western? Hell yeah, another good one. I will beat the drum of Stephen Dorff until I die. He fucking rules and he’s a great villain here. Another good, old fashioned film.

25. WEREWOLVES WITHIN – Sam Richardson is one of the funniest people on the planet. He’s currently killing it on After Party for AppleTV+. Formerly killing it on Veep and Detroiters and anything else he’s been in. This is a cool, silly, sarcastic as shit, funny movie.

That’s the top twenty five. And now for fifteen more I enjoyed (in alphabetical order so you know I went to school and shit).

Antlers, Belfast, Don’t Look Up, No Sudden Move, No Time To Die, North Hollywood, Shang-Chi, Small Engine Repair, The Beta Test, The Card Counter, The Guilty, The Last Duel, The Matrix Resurrections, The Super Bob Einstein Movie, Vacation Friends.

I’m tired now. I’ve wasted enough of your time. I’m gonna go do something else now. Next week…I don’t know…I’ll figure something out. Until then, love each other.

My Favorite Films Of The Pandemic Year 2020

The past twelve months has afforded me a monumental amount of time for self reflection — and free time. I turned forty one years old this past year and up until the end of February, I lived my entire life in New York. The start of the year saw my wife and I sell our home, pack up and drive across three fourths of this country to El Paso, Texas. The Elp is where my wife was born and where a majority of her side of the family still resides. It was time. I had become disillusioned with life in the North East. It wears on you and slowly sucks you down into the muck with the rest of the emotional terrorists taking up residence in the dirt. I gave up a good paying job (one I no longer enjoyed doing) and we came with ideas to maybe start some sort of business ourselves. I was also determined to give my writing a serious shot once more. The idea of writing for a hokey list making website again didn’t interest me so I restarted this blog — what you’re reading right now. Maybe we’d do a podcast, maybe I’d take another stab at fixing my novel which, by the way, was how I lost that hokey side gig writing for that list making website in the first place. Long story short, 2020 had other plans for us. The pandemic set us all back, washed up on a shore of circumstance and feeling like we were somehow still at sea.

There were a few positive developments during this trying time. For one, I’ve been able to spend nearly every single day with two of my nieces after taking on the responsibility of aiding them in their online schooling. I also completed two short stories and my novel is in the final polishing phase before ultimate completion. I worked hard and I’m proud. I also raised ten puppies from literal birth this past fall and found homes for nine of them before keeping one for myself. I love all of my pets, the ones still with me and the ones I’ll never forget but I love my new baby girl more than I’ve ever loved an animal before and I think it has a lot to do with raising her since the actual day of her birth. These are the things I must focus on to keep charging ahead into an uncertain future. Film helps. It’s always helped better than most. Films, books, games, etc. these are the things that have always helped to keep me sane, unwind and reflect, and on many occasions, inspire me to do more myself.

When I was in college, I had no clue what I wanted my future to hold. I was stuck. Music was a passion and I thought production may be the way. Yeah, a music producer sounded pretty good. I also loved film and thought that perhaps film school would be the way. I was accepted at NYU but got scared by the tuition bill I’d be responsible for. I decided to begin at community college in a music curriculum and then transfer, either to a dedicated music school or perhaps finally to NYU. I crashed out. Took money in front of me and decided to live my life in the here and now. Hell, this path led me to my wife which completed my transformation into an actual human being. I don’t know how much of a decent person I’d be had I never met her and maybe I’m still not even that decent of a person but I do know this: I’d be no less than 50% more of a shitty person had we never met.

So why am I telling you all of this? Because films are stories. Films can transport us anywhere throughout time and space and make us feel connected to something bigger. Because I never stopped loving film and attempting to understand filmmakers and their wants and desires. Because I’ve never stopped trying to understand my own. Another blessing fo 2020 was the free time afforded to pursue these delights. The funny thing is, it still wasn’t enough time to do and see and read and experience it all. Theaters being closed meant that I couldn’t get to a screening of films I really wanted to see like: Nomadland or Minari. I also ran out of time (for the purpose of this post being anywhere near relevant) to see Steve McQueen’s Small Axe series on Amazon. Still, I did get to see a lot and I my feelings for many of these films are so similar, I decided to make my year end list a top twenty five — this way I could share a few words for each of them.

With that behind us, and eight hundred words under the belt, I present you with my favorite twenty five films of the pandemic year 2020:

1. POSSESSOR – Brandon Cronenberg crafted the pinnacle of 2020 cinema for me. I’ve already watched this film three times. Andrea Riseborough plays an assassin who mind controls other people to kill her targets for her. Christopher Abbott stars as her latest victim when everything goes wrong. Trust me, you’ve probably never seen a film quite like this one.

2. PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN – Carey Mulligan should definitely be preparing an Oscars speech for her performance as a revenge fueled woman aiming to make predatory men fear their ways. This film flat out knocked my socks off. I didn’t want it to end.

3. DA 5 BLOODS – I love Spike Lee to death. He’s never lost his adventurous spirit as a filmmaker. This is his best film in over a decade and his cast is nothing short of brilliant. Delroy Lindo is finally getting some justified reverence for his talent while Jonathan Majors, as his son, is in the midst of becoming a movie star. You add in Wire alums like Isiah Whitlock and Clarke Peters (who’s nearly Lindo’s equal in this) and yeah, something special. Chadwick Boseman is great here too in one of his final roles.

4. SHIRLEY – Elisabeth Moss is ridiculously talented. Two completely different roles in 2020 with this one and the Invisible Man and she knocks both of them out of the park. Her range is immeasurable. Here she plays writer Shirley Jackson in the midst of a potential mental breakdown. The film plays like a river cutting through rocky terrain. You’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s imagined or even what will happen next. Great stuff.

5. UNCLE FRANK – I love Paul Bettany and Sophia Lillis is a star in the making. The rest of the cast is also superb in this drama about family secrets which can breed hate and the forbidden love they don’t understand. “You’re my big brother, Frank.” Tears.

6. TESLA – This film is fucking nuts. Featuring two acting treasures in Ethan Hawke and Kyle MacLachlan as Tesla and Edison during their electricity war. Note to Hollywood: This is how you do a biopic!

7. THE VAST OF NIGHT – Andrew Patterson is one to keep an eye on. Watching this film reminded me of a young Spielberg and I don’t throw that around lightly. There’s a tracking shot in the middle of this baby that is equally breathtaking in it’s ability to capture the vibe of a small town and mind boggling in how it could have possibly been accomplished. Please watch this film, it is soooooooooooo good.

8. MANK – Fincher is the man and this was a career long passion project for him. Gary Oldman is (no surprise) phenomenal as the titular Citizen Kane writer and the dialog flies at you fast and furious. Awesome flick about the writing of an awesome flick.

9. SWALLOW – This film crept up on me. I wasn’t too sure about it throughout it’s first half but it’s one that sneaks into your brain and takes up residence. I knew I liked the film by the time the credits rolled but it was in the days after, where it still occupied my thoughts, that I realized I loved the film. Terrific lead performance in this one.

10. THE PAINTER AND THE THIEF – I’ve already specifically written about this film right here on this blog. An incredible doc about the human spirit and the capacity for forgiveness.

11. SOUL – It’s Pixar you fools! This one made me cry. (Not a shocker to those who know me)

12. I’M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS – Charlie Kaufman is my kind of madman. This film explores grief and regret like few films you’ve ever seen. Jessie Buckley is great but Jesse Plemmons is just the best god damn actor who doesn’t get enough recognition for his work. Seriously, Plemmons is almost always the best part of any movie he’s in.

13. TENET – I love Nolan. He makes big dumb action movies that actually have a working brain. Tenet is one that’s all about technique and the crafting of a film and less about story or character. Not my favorite Nolan but still a really fun movie. Also, I don’t know why people found the story so hard to decipher. It’s not that complicated.

14. ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI – Regina King shows great command over her actors and it’s a necessary skill because this film relies solely on that particular skill. Overall, feels more like a stage production than a film but it’s still very good. The actors playing Malcolm X and Jim Brown are the standouts.

15. BLACK BEAR – This is a film about a break up caused by infidelity. This is a film about making a film about a break up caused by infidelity. This film is crazy in how it manages to worm itself into your brain. Aubrey Plaza is incredible and Christopher Abbott is becoming one of my new favorite people to see on screen.

16. SOUND OF METAL – Speaking of people I love to see on screen, Riz Ahmed is extraordinary as a drummer in a hardcore band who is going deaf. Music is his life and he must learn to readjust and accept his fate. Olivia Cooke is great as his band mate/girlfriend and Mathieu Amalric shows up as Cooke’s father in a few poignant scenes. Also, Paul Raci as Ahmed’s deaf mentor is amazing. This is a well crafted, tight film.

17. PALM SPRINGS – Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti play two people stuck in a time loop at a wedding they don’t wish to be at. Add in a maniacal JK Simmons as someone else stuck in the same loop and you’re bound to have some diabolical fun. This was a breath of fresh year in 2020.

18. ON THE ROCKS – Right now in my life, after David Lynch, Sofia Coppola is my favorite filmmaker. I love the way she writes and I also love how she captures the essence of emotion on screen. Here, she teams back up with Bill Murray (the g.o.a.t) for a little madcap family mayhem about a father and his daughter attempting to catch a suspected cheater. Coppola shoots the living shit out of New York City, to the point where I swear I could smell it through my screen.

19. THE WOLF OF SNOW HOLLOW – A horror film. A creature film. A crime film. A family film. Snow Hollow is a superbly written “horror” film that eschews convention at nearly every turn. It also features the late Robert Forster in what I believe is his final screen role. Oh yeah, it also has a scene involving a kitchen oven that made me laugh harder than any other scene in a movie this past year.

20. MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM – A new August Wilson adaptation and this is another good one. Though, these films sometimes come across a bit pedestrian as stage to screen adaptations, this one is still worth your time. Chadwick Boseman gives the performance of his career in this.

21. HAPPIEST SEASON – Kristen Stewart is usually great and 2020 was another stellar year for her with this film and the horror film Underwater releasing earlier on. Mackenzie Davis deserves to be in everything and the same goes for Dan Levy. This one is a holiday themed rom-com with some real bite to it. Smart writing and clean direction help deliver a film worth revisiting year after year.

22. HOST – Perfectly captured life in lock down while delivering real terrifying results in under one hour. Scary as hell right to the last moment.

23. #ALIVE – Word is that this was filmed during the pandemic and it makes glorious use of the pandemic as a backdrop (and as sort of character itself). I’m a sucker for a zombie flick and this is one of the best in recent memory.

24. TIME TO HUNT – A film about a group of friends, struggling to make ends meet, executing a dangerous heist of a casino and the fallout as a result. And what a fallout it is. In the wake of their brazenness, they are hunted by a killer who will stop at nothing to punish them. As the film goes on, the killer reveals himself to be after more than just the completion of a job. The film drags on too long, had it been about thirty minutes shorter, this probably would’ve been in my top ten but it’s still really, really good.

25. I’M YOUR WOMAN – Have you ever seen a crime story where the main character’s wife is used as nothing more than a prop? Did it annoy you? This is your movie. A fresh take on the typical male dominated genre, I’m Your Woman follows the wife of a thief and killer as she fights to figure out who her husband actually was while fighting off the people he supposedly ripped off. Rachel Brosnahan is very good and the film is never not interesting.

And there you have it, folks. I’m off to hopefully finish the polish. Who knows what next Monday holds? I certainly don’t. I’ll be back on Friday with a 2010 film retrospective. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #11 – The Wrap Up

Here we are at the end of the road only to find out we’ve been trapped in an eternal hallway. Lynch’s work never ends and I think that’s one of the main reasons I love it so much. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t spend at least a small amount of time pondering explored themes of one of his films. And I can tell you all for certain that Twin Peaks in particular is always occupying a small amount of my consciousness.

His work is amorphous, like trying to catch and keep flowing water. Sure, you can get your hands on it, in it, around it but can you ever really get a firm grip? Can you keep it? This right here is the journey and the destination, together forever. We travel these roads, these dreamscapes, these hellscapes and once we reach our destination, we find out we’re searching for something totally different than when we first set out. To some, this is maddening but to others, like me, it’s refreshing and creatively invigorating. Lynch is my biggest artistic influence and the biggest takeaway from this project is that I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

But for everyone else, what was this all about? What did we learn?

To begin, you’ll likely never hear better use of sound in film than when watching a Lynch project. He is obsessed with sound and the stories that can be told with only ambiance. He has no equal in this regard. Lynch also likes to create a labyrinthian anxiety in his films. Many of his characters and us, as the viewer, often feel stressed out and claustrophobic throughout his work. The world is closing in on everyone and this creates a palpable sense of terror. He’s known as the “weird guy” and while this seems astute on the surface, he actually isn’t that weird. Lynch shows us the world as it truly exists. The notion of weird and normal is a construct created by us, greater society, as a way to compartmentalize feelings and place everyone and everything in easy to understand categories. This is not truth. No, the truth is that this world is wondrous and strange. Take the time to stop and simply exist amongst this planet and you’ll see all the odd and obtuse things you originally thought only existed in “weird films.” This reminds me of a line in Lynch’s Wild At Heart:

This world is wild at heart and weird on top.

I love that. I love that it normalizes individuality, which is something society has taught us to restrain. The more of us who refuse to restrain, the more interesting this world will become.

The last thing I’d like to present as a takeaway is that Lynch exudes love in his films. He is a romantic and no matter how dark his films get (save for one) love can and often does, prevail.

And now, the final thing, and this is for the ones who love and study Lynch and his work. Lynch somehow created a universe of his projects. They all exist together and this only recently came into view for us. When he and Mark Frost first returned to their world of Twin Peaks, we were excited to see them continue their darling. What we didn’t see coming was how Lynch would use this opportunity to comment on his own career. This project afforded me a wonderful chance to comb over his work and experience things anew. I began to pick up on little bits I originally missed and now could see how Lynch incorporated all of these little bits into his Twin Peaks universe. Or perhaps we should just call it a Lynch-verse.

And finally, my rankings but for the record, there isn’t anything here I don’t like and most of it, I completely love but here goes:

10. Dune – If only they had let him get crazy with this one.

9. Wild at Heart – Cage and Lynch and Defoe equals unbridled mania.

8. Erasherhead – His first film and one of his most impressionistic.

7. Inland Empire – I’ve finally come around on this one and can’t wait to dive in further.

6. The Elephant Man – A film of such beauty. Not only in it’s execution but in its humanity.

5. Lost Highway – His most nihilistic film. A nasty slice of noir pie.

4. The Straight Story – Heartwarming to the max. Impossible not to fall in love.

3. Blue Velvet – One of his most complete visions. Undeniable masterpiece.

2. Mulholland Drive – His best film. Masterpiece. Works on every single level.

1. Twin Peaks – My favorite thing ever. The biggest influence on my creative life. I don’t count Fire Walk With Me on its own, comfortable with its place among its television siblings. The fact that Lynch and Frost were able to return and end things on their own terms means the world to me as a fan. Twin Peaks is both Lynch’s greatest achievement and the culmination of his entire career.

Next week, I’ll be posting a retrospective on my top ten films from 2010. I’m willing to bet that some changes are coming. Next, I’ll be going week to week with some random films I’ve marked for rewatch. After that, I’m thinking about digging into the Coen brothers — that should be loads of fun. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #10 – Twin Peaks

I was a few months shy of eleven years old when Twin Peaks made its television debut. By this point in my life, I’d already had “the talk” with my parents and was generally allowed a bit more freedom in what I chose to spend my free time doing. My brother and I were routinely allowed to see rated R movies (as long as my parents pre-screened them for anything they deemed too gratuitous) and I was allowed to read pretty much anything I wanted. When I was in first grade, it became apparent to my teacher that I required a greater challenge in school. I was the first student finished with their work or tests and would become a bit disruptive while waiting for the other students to catch up. The solution was to send me to the library until the rest of the class finished. In first grade, I read through the entirety of Frank Dixon’s Hardy Boys series and quite a bit of the Nancy Drew series. I loved detective stories. My grandfather was a retired NYPD detective and a budding author. Detectives? Fiction? Yes please.

I became uncommonly familiar with my elementary school library and I can still recall its exact layout to this day. Second grade, read more and more. Third grade, read more and more. By fourth grade, My teacher moved me on to Edgar Alan Poe. I am not making this up. The first story I ever read from Poe was The Murders In The Rue Morgue. I would sit there with this giant collection of Poe’s stories and poems while keeping a dictionary close by to help me define the words I didn’t understand. I credit this specific moment in my life with providing me an above average vocabulary. I cherished this time and my voracity for reading has held firm these decades later. By fifth grade, I’d polished off Stephen King’s The Shining and then The Stand and Salem’s Lot. I loved detectives and horror and the general macabre. I was reading Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics if I was going to read comics. Give me the weird.

When Peaks launched, I knew who Lynch was. I knew who Kyle Maclachlan was. Hell, because of Hillstreet Blues, I knew who Mark Frost was. I credit my mother with providing me any information I asked for. She taught me how much goes into the media we consume. Like I said a few weeks ago, I loved Dune as a kid and I remember sneaking into the hallway to see what I could of Blue Velvet when my parents rented it from the video store. (That was one film deemed too much for our little eyes, ears and minds, Lol) And here comes Lynch, Frost and Maclachlan with a detective story that quickly got weird in all the ways I loved. I was in.

I credit Lynch as a figure in my life who has helped shape the mind I use to this day. He’s odd in the way that I am odd and I still can’t view this world the way most people do — I see it from a different angle and at this point I assume I always will.

And so here we are in a tiny Pacific Northwest town with a murdered homecoming queen and a town in shock. In comes the FBI with a bright eyed agent, instantly enamored by this small town, to try and solve the crime. What none of us knew was just how indelible an impression this show would leave on the world in eight episodes.

At this point, I don’t even know how to dive in and dissect Twin Peaks anymore. I could talk and write about this show forever — it’s everything to me. The show was famously canceled at the end of its second season, leaving us with an impossible cliffhanger to deal with for twenty five years until it’s eventual return from the grave (or Lodge, if you will). The show was dead by 1992 but in those two short years, it paved the way for several shows to eventually be born in its wake and carry its torch. Shows like The X-Files and LOST could not exist without Twin Peaks paving the way. In actuality, nothing like The Sopranos or Breaking Bad or The Shield or anything else that refused to wrap up a storyline in sixty minutes could exist without Twin Peaks first paving the way. The idea of flawed heroes and redemptive villains who might be non-villains had never really been explored in any meaningful way before Twin Peaks.

Lynch and Frost famously never wanted to solve the murder of Laura Palmer. To them, the idea of the ever long mystery was a driving creative force. Once the mystery is solved, the spell it holds over an audience is broken. This was evidenced in season two when the studio forced their hand, the “killer” was revealed and the ratings promptly fell off a cliff. They then moved Peaks around the schedule and viewership fell even further. They never gave it a chance to recover. Some point to Lynch’s departure in season two and they wouldn’t totally be wrong. He left to complete his film, Wild at Heart, and him not being around to help fight the studio led to friction between him and Frost and the rest of the crew. The studio took advantage and killed off the darling that had recently lost some of its shine. Lynch returned to direct the season two finale and while he and Frost concocted a brilliant turn and cliffhanger in an attempt to force the studio to give them a third season, the gambit failed and their baby was dead. Lynch had more to say and immediately wrote and directed a film titled, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. The film was not initially well received but the subsequent years have been kind to it and Lynch’s vision. He aimed to better round out the character of Laura Palmer, adding layers of complexity to her character by introducing her as a high school girl, seemingly perfect, yet leading a double life. It’s in this film where we begin to see Laura as a full individual and not just a corpse. We also learn the truth about her home life and why her father killed her. Throughout the two seasons of tv, we kept seeing an evil smiling man hovering in many scenes who quickly became known as Bob. And Bob was the epitome of evil — a demon of sorts who could inhabit others and bend them to his will. In Fire Walk With Me, Laura’s father Leland is possessed by Bob and repeatedly rapes his own daughter, creating substantial trauma and ultimately killing her to keep her from telling on him. It crashes through myths and legends to present a reality so uncomfortable and ugly. It’s like turning the overheard lights on the night after a party and breaking the reverie of memory.

As I said earlier, this was 1992 and Twin Peaks was now dead and buried, done. Then in 2015, we began to hear rumblings about Lynch and Frost wanting to revisit their iconic story. Then it was announced as a twelve episode limited series for Showtime. And then Lynch quit over budget concerns and the hope we all felt, crashed down on top of us. But Lynch and Frost weren’t done yet. Showtime caved to their demands and actually increased the episode order to eighteen hour longs. In 2017 Twin Peaks officially returned to our lives. And this is where I pause and hit the rewind button for a bit.

As a kid, I lost interest in Twin Peaks during its second season. The middle run of episodes are pretty soft compared to season one and the final few episodes of season two. I do remember the finale well, as we finally got to visit the Black Lodge in all of its macabre glory. The red curtains and black and white zigzagged floor are forever etched into my brain. My beloved Agent Cooper, laughing maniacally after his “rescue” and smashing his face into the bathroom mirror while chanting, “how’s Annie?” Over and over again. That’s what we were left with for twenty five years. I would revisit the show in my late teens and early twenties. At this point in my life, I was completely enamored by Lynch and had my own Netflix account. (This was back when Netflix sent out actual discs via the actual mail) I tried to get my friends into Twin Peaks to no avail and so it drifted off in that way that demanding art often does.

I met my wife in 2002 and instantly saw an opportunity to sucker someone else in to my weird little circle. She had pretty good taste in movies, less so in music but we can’t have everything, can we? I kid, not about the music though, that’s a battle we’re still waging to this day. We were married in 2003 and soon she was into Sofia Coppola and Wes Anderson. She already liked Spike Lee and Tarantino. She tolerated Nolan and Jackson, got into Altman and Cronenberg and Jarmusch. We were on a good path. She knew how much I loved old detective movies and put up with that. Hitchcock was good to go and we both agreed that Bill Murray was the greatest person ever. These are the things that help make up a marriage. I could go on and on and one day I just might because I also love talking about my wife but I’ll fast forward to 2017. The Return was fast approaching and she finally agreed to watch Twin Peaks with me. I was beyond excited but also nervous because I knew that tv had changed a lot in the twenty five years since Peaks ended. I hit play. She was instantly hooked. I knew it, she was obsessed with true crime and I should have never doubted it or her. We laughed at the sometimes hokey acting but were enamored with the unfolding mystery. I was watching Twin Peaks for the first time again because I was seeing it through my wife’s eyes. It became a daily routine to drink coffee and eat donuts while we watched. We were completely into it and I was transported through my entire life again. The show got weirder as Lynch and Frost began to blow out the characters and explore the essence of humanity. We saw literal inspiration on our tv for the X-Files and LOST. I began to understand some more about myself and why I have been drawn to the things I’ve been drawn to.

It always begins when you’re a child. Lynch has been with me nearly my entire life. This is why I hold him and King and Poe on these pedestals.

Twin Peaks had begun to shape our thoughts and we began to view current tv and film differently. We could see the imprint it left and we could see, clearly, when a project was taking the easy way out. We’ve become more demanding of what we now consume. If Twin Peaks could spark so much electricity in our minds, doing so with so much going against it and the issue of being twenty five years in the past, why couldn’t new shows? They should have heeded warnings and learned lessons but Hollywood loves to cut corners. Lynch has never cut a corner in his life. He has ways pushed the envelope and maintained his search for what comes next.

We caught up, thirty episodes in about ten days and then it was time to begin The Return. The two episode premier ended and I honestly didn’t know what to think. The show was weirder than ever and I loved that but it also already looked likely to subvert all of our expectations at every turn. It was time to open up and give in or else we were going to have a helluva time getting through this story. And right there I remember thinking that Lynch and Frost maybe had this planned all along. The Return was premiering almost exactly twenty five years after the cancellation, after Cooper went into the Black Lodge and here we were finding out that Cooper had been trapped there for twenty five years and it was his evil doppelgänger that escaped. I honestly wouldn’t put it past Lynch and Frost to have concocted this plan to wait two and a half decades and come back to their baby with full control.

The most interesting thing about the Return was how much took place outside of the town of Twin Peaks. They were acknowledging how the show had grown during its absence. They also gave us three (or four?) different versions of our beloved Agent Cooper. We had Mr. C, the evil one who’s wreaked havoc on the world for twenty five years. We had Dougie, Coopers attempt to escape the Lodge only to see part of his ego make it. And then there was the trapped Cooper who must navigate these extravagant settings as he attempted to return to us and save the day. Dougie was the most polarizing aspect of the Return, with his infantile demeanor bordering on grating and while we all hoped each week would bring Cooper fully back to us. Lynch and Frost waited until the final few episodes before Cooper made it all the way back and the catharsis in that moment was unlike anything I have ever felt from a tv show.

“I AM the FBI,” with that patented smile and thumbs up. Bravo.

But what does it all mean? What makes Twin Peaks so great?

The first season built a mystery infused with the unexplainable. We were given suspects and even though many of them at first seemed good fo the murder, it quickly became apparent there was more going on. The show began to dive in to the daily lives of all the inhabitants of this small town. This drew us in deeper because we grew attachments. As a kid, I thought Bobby was the coolest person I’d ever seen, even if James had a motorcycle, he was too morose for me. Bobby was exciting. And then, this was the point in my life where I was beginning to get interested in girls, and Audrey Horne is just the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I was in loooooove. So, I’m growing up with this show, with this new family on tv.

The second season began to fracture. Lynch left to finish a film and the show dove into many side stories involving secondary and tertiary characters. Now, in 2021, it’s more interesting to me but back then, my interest waned. What was still enjoyable about season two was the main trio of Harry, Cooper and Hawk remained largely unchanged. Even with a dip in quality, the show was still more interesting than anything else on tv. We found out that the evil Bob had a partner in Mike, the mysterious one armed man. Mike was not the killer and in fact, somewhat of a reformed demon who wished to help Cooper. The show now fully identified itself as more than a mere mystery show — it’s diving headfirst into the macabre, the true nature of evil, and even aliens. Cooper’s old partner showed up as a major villain by the end of the show until he’s destroyed in the Lodge by Bob. Cooper was trapped while his doppelgänger escaped and this was what we were left with for twenty five years.

Lynch immediately went to work filming Fire Walk With Me but the film didn’t answer questions, instead opting to ask more of them. Cooper was Cooper again as this was all a prequel to the series and it’s main interest was in diving into the family dynamics of the Palmer household. There were some interesting developments here though. We’re given the first mention of the Blue Rose task force, which would eventually play a major role in the Return. We also met David Bowie’s character Phillip Jeffries. He was an agent who disappeared after investigating for the task force and only popped up to warn Cooper’s boss that Cooper wasn’t who they thought him to be. This, coupled with Cooper watching himself on a security camera was the first acknowledgment that what we saw in the season two final was as bad as we thought it was. Lynch really struggled with this film, he had too much to say for a single feature film and in the subsequent years, a version titled The Missing Pieces has seen the light of day with nearly two hours of cut material that serves to flesh out this world.

This brings us to the Return and it’s in these final eighteen hours of the Twin Peaks universe where Lynch and Frost begin to make their mission statement clear. They want to finish telling the stories of these inhabitants of a small Pacific Northwest town. For Lynch, he uses the eighteen hours to sum up his entire career and draw parallels between each and every one of his works. Twenty five years later and they still chose to challenge us as much as ever while again showing television the way forward. Love it or hate it, love them or hate them, the Return will prove to be a major influence on the stories we see in the future on the silver screen. They used the Roadhouse as an opportunity to provide us with real musical acts that somehow summed up a theme being explored in that hour of story. I was challenged several times by the Return. Part eight has proven to be the most famous hour of the Return and for good reason. It’s an hour unlike anything any of us have ever seen, film or television. It’s a journey into the dark heart of mankind as Lynch weaves a tapestry of horror and loss of innocence. We’re taken to the source of when mankind truly became dangerous to itself with the very first test of the atomic bomb in New Mexico. From there we are hurtled through time and space, inside the explosion to witness the birth of Bob by the evil presence Judy — the birth of literal evil. We then follow a young girl in the area as she unknowingly ingests some sort of mutant frog beetle. Later in the series, we’ll come to understand this girl as Laura Palmer’s eventual mother, Sarah. The evil was always there in all of us, waiting for us to remove our societal face and unleash Hell on Earth. I was personally challenged by this episode and it took me three viewings before I had a handle on what Lynch and Frost were getting at. I can also be honest enough about my feelings for Cooper’s infantile doppelgänger, Dougie. I so badly wanted Cooper back that I sometimes grew impatient with Dougie’s antics but once the show had told its story, I understood why we were made to wait. Lynch and Frost were attempting to reclaim their tale and the innocence of everyone involved. This is a tough trick to attempt because you simply cannot undo trauma but the final few hours of the series pulled off a fete for the ages. They began to unwind time as Cooper fought to not become trapped forever like his fellow agent Phillip Jeffries. Cooper defeated his evil doppelgänger and then with help, defeated Bob and sent him back to the Black Lodge where he belonged. He then journeyed through time and space in an attempt to heal all wounds. He showed up in the past, in Laura Palmer’s timeline before her murder and warned her. Lynch managed to insert current Cooper into a scene from Fire Walk With Me as Cooper prevented Laura from marching off to her death, instead disappearing. Cooper than arrived in our real world as a different man and tracked Laura down. She was going by the name Carrie Page in our world and this solved a twenty five year old mystery from early in the series about a missing “page” from Laura’s diary. Cooper and Carrie drove to Twin Peaks and knocked on the door of her childhood home. It’s answered by the woman who actually currently owns this house in real life. She didn’t now them — didn’t know what they’re talking about and shut the door on their hopes for closure. Cooper was rocked to his core and asked, “what year is this?” It’s at this moment where Carrie and Laura’s memories began to merge and she hears her mother Sarah call out to her the morning after she was murdered. She let out a howl of a scream and the lights all shut out, one by one, until we were plunged into complete darkness.

I know this ending left more than a few confused and disdained but this is the perfect ending for the saga of Twin Peaks. Cooper had gone back and prevented Laura from ever being murdered. The mystery was sprung anew. It didn’t even approach the idea of dismissing the trauma that she suffered at the hands of her father instead causing a new timeline where she disappeared from Twin Peaks instead of being murdered. This allowed Cooper to fulfill his hero’s journey while still honoring the devastating events in Laura’s life which led up to a specific moment. Lynch and Frost reclaimed their baby and left us with something indelible to ponder for the decades to come.

Now, I know we didn’t dive in to Twin Peaks with the same detail we dove in to Lynch’s other projects but it’s impossible to fit everything into one post. This one is already way too long as it stands and Twin Peaks is a subject I can talk and write and think about for hours at a time, every day of my life. It’s the biggest influence on my own work and will likely always be exactly that.

This brings us to the end of this post and this was really the only way I know how to talk about Twin Peaks here. It means too much to me to merely recount it beat by beat. It’s a work above and beyond anything else I’ve experienced in my life and I’m grateful I’ve been able to share it now with my wife. My nieces are next, say a prayer for them. And who knows? Perhaps Lynch isn’t as done with Twin Peaks as we thought. We know he’s starting work on a new series for Netflix, titled Unrecorded Night. There are major rumors circling that this new series will be tied to his signature work but that still remains to be seen. I for one believe we’ve seen the end of Twin Peaks and that Lynch and Frost ended the run on their own terms. Let’s just be excited for a new Lynch project of any kind.

Okay, that’s it, for real this time. Next week, we’ll wrap up and discuss what’s next. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #9 – Inland Empire

Oh man, this film. Fourteen years later and this film still confounds me. Watching it earlier in the week was the first time I made it all the way through. Back in 2006, I couldn’t do it. The film was obtuse and unwieldy and nothing clicked for me. This isn’t exactly uncharted territory for Lynch and his viewers. Inland Empire remained, for nearly a decade and a half, the lone Lynch work that just didn’t mean anything at all to me. Part of the reason for my doing this project was that it would provide me an opportunity to give Inland Empire another go. I initially planned to watch this film in two sittings — make it easier on my brain. Ninety minutes and ninety minutes. Monday night I sat down, hit play and was mesmerized for 180 minutes. I did it! I finished! And I did it in one go! Hurray for me!

This film still confounds me.

But now, it confounds me in a good way.

I’m on the path now.

There’s a destination in mind.

I will watch this again and again and then again and one day I will unlock all of its mysteries.

And this has been my ultimate point with the project: film requires us as much as we it. Fourteen years later, I’ve now exited my twenties and thirties. I am more mature from a life standpoint and most certainly from a film standpoint. This is why Lynch is my favorite filmmaker of all time: his work grows and matures with us because, love it or hate it, his films stay with us, in our subconscious, the entire way.

So, what exactly is Inland Empire?

The only thing I can say with certainty is that it’s Lynch’s most experimental film. It’s also likely to stand as his final feature, which is oddly satisfying as it bears a certain symmetry to his very first feature film, Eraserhead. Both films are experimental and with Inland Empire, it shows that, decades later, Lynch has never lost his spirit or individuality. Where Eraserhead, to be reductive, told the story of a man in trouble, Inland Empire, again being reductive, tells the story of a woman in trouble.

But let’s dive in a bit deeper.

The first thing to strike me as interesting occurs in the opening seconds of the film. Dark. Shadow. A flashlight clicks on. Flooding light. The unseen person holding the flashlight retreats and the title, Inland Empire is revealed. I love how Lynch shoots this sequence in reverse. Instead of highlighting the film as something found, he unearths the film by showing light retreating to the shadows. I’m sure this is going to be key, one day, to my ultimate understanding of this film.

We move on to a dream sequence, cloaked in shadow, featuring two fuzzy faced people. They engage in sexual intercourse. We’re immediately thrown off and cannot understand what they’re saying (subtitles help, lol). Then, SNAP! We’re in the aftermath. The film is colorized and a traumatized woman sits alone in a hotel room, staring at the snowy signal loss on her television. This is reality and the aftermath of a dream. Everything will only grow more abstract from here because where we snow, she sees a sitcom featuring three people in full rabbit suits. They speak using obtuse sentences that don’t connect to each other in any normal way. There’s a laugh track that makes no sense. Are we peeking into this woman’s soul? Has television snatched her soul? Our soul? I believe the rabbits are a commentary on art and the critique of art. They also come across as a way for Lynch to show us how something that doesn’t make sense to us, may make perfect sense to someone else. It is a fascinating opening salvo.

We move on to Laura Dern, who will dominate this film. She is extraordinary here, like she always is with Lynch. She’s an actress recently cast in a film alongside a mega star played by Justin Theroux. Before that can take place, she’s visited by her Polish neighbor, played with gusto by Grace Zabriskie. Zabriskie levels an ominous warning to Laura Dern about her film, stating that where Dern thinks the film innocuous, she should prepare herself for brutal fucking murder. She then tells a fable about a boy who went out to play…he looked into the mirror and evil was born. And right there folks, we have a direct connection into the world of Twin Peaks. The mirror. The evil twin. Lynch is incorporating all of his work into one gigantic universe and I am here for all of it. Yet there’s more to the fable than just a connection to Twin Peaks. The fable is central to helping us understand this narrative.

Continuing on, it doesn’t make much sense to further explore the plot because it’s borderline indecipherable. Lynch is toying with our perceptions of reality and he’s being overtly impressionistic here. He chose to shoot the film on video and it’s definitely odd at first but we get used to the look and feel and ultimately, we come to understand why he made this choice. The real star of Inland Empire, however, is the sound design. It’s, at once, sparse and all encompassing. The sound screeches at us and fills us with dread and anxiety, never relenting. It is out of this world — perhaps the best use of sound in Lynch’s career.

So what we have here is Lynch using his crew and everything else at his disposal to tell a story without a coherent or cohesive narrative. Why? Because he is obsessed with dream states and psychological story telling. The film in the film is a remake of an older Polish film that was never finished because the leads died during the filming — dead by murder. The film was deemed cursed and nobody involved now, knew this when they signed up. Soon, Dern’s character falls further into descent. Her husband is a violent Polish (possible) gangster. Theroux’s character, after having been warned to not have sex with Dern, does just that and disappears. The director (Kingsley) and a grip (Bucky) get into a hilarious spat on set. But what does any of this mean?

I wrote in my notebook: I am TORN on what this is!

And I still am.

Because this seems to be an exploration on how we, as humans, interact with each other. If it’s just that, it’s fascinating but I think there’s more at work here. There is also a central theme of women navigating a dangerous world. It’s like a noir-ish mashup of Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. The thing is, the real world is just as wild and dangerous as these aforementioned fantasy worlds — especially for women. Our female counterparts must always be cognizant of their surroundings and who could be inhabiting the shadows. Nothing is easy or safe for them but I still think there’s more at play here.

Here’s one other thing I know for certain: the final hour of this film is equally haunting and mesmerizing — the viewer cannot look away.

But what else is going on?

So I had a thought about the woman watching all of this unfold on her television. Is she watching the original Polish film? Is it all in her head? Is she watching a fictionalized version of her own life and how it could be? Or…is she…us? This is where Lynch’s home video look makes sense to me. The camera is us. We’re judging all of these events and these people experiencing said events. We are the viewer and this is the story as seen through the eyes of the viewer but still, there’s more going on here.

And this is the major reason I find this film so confounding. I simply cannot land on solid ground.

I think back to that fable about the little boy and the mirror. The mirror can be seen as an instrument of vanity and vanity is the evil twin. A world obsessed with itself is an evil world. We must look inward to project outward. This is vitally important in art. There are sometimes two sides of an artist. You have the creative side and the destructive side. The process of filmmaking is no easy undertaking and there are plenty of aborted projects or projects that die for various other reasons. There are allusions to a possible miscarriage by Dern’s character and part of her journey can be seen as her way of coping with the loss and trying to make sense of the world in the aftermath. But then again, it could merely be Dern reflecting on events and non-events from her past that have already happened. This could be purgatory and she is already dead. Hell, this could be Lynch commenting on his own creative process — the trials and tribulations of the eternal life of success and crushing defeat of a project’s death.

Or.

This is all about two sides of the same world. We have the surface and we have what’s just below the surface. Just below the surface is where the engine revs and powers what we see on the surface. Perhaps, it isn’t the twin who is evil but the world that decided to mirror itself and confound us with its lies. And maybe through sacrifice, the good side, the side of courage and perseverance, can give and receive love.

And then again, maybe I’m all wrong. Either way, I have begun to open myself up to Inland Empire and thus it has begun to share some of its secrets.

Next week, Twin Peaks. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #8 – Mulholland Drive

Lynch originally envisioned Mulholland Drive as part of the larger universe of Twin Peaks. It was a work conceived as a way to further explore the character of Audrey Horne and her adventures in Hollywood and quickly deemed a no go as a new television series. It was later workshopped as a feature and was still deemed a no go. Eventually Lynch reworked his idea into what we would eventually see on screen but upon the ramping up of the production, it was discovered that most of the sets and props had been destroyed. Almost as if the world was gathering to conspire against this project, Lynch and his team got serious and persevered. What we received is, in my opinion, Lynch’s greatest film. A puzzle box of a noir that is more inspired than most anything we could reasonably expect from the genre and one that is constantly more infatuated with the characters over the plot. I have this ranked as the number one film of the 2000s. Let’s dive in.

We open with a town car winding its way around Mulholland Drive with Laura Harring’s character in the backseat. The car stops, a gun is trained on her as she is ordered out of the vehicle. Before that can happen, two other cars careen out of control and one smashes into the town car. This results in the two men up front being killed and Laura Harring’s character stumbling around, concussed. This is THE moment in the film but a first time viewer would not know this yet. The moment is preceded by the camera laying down on red sheets until the camera blacks out. These two moments, placed together, tell the entire story of the film and I love how Lynch always drops the keys to his mysteries right in front of the viewer. This is what makes any Lynch mystery so worthwhile — there are no tricks and no logic leaps. When a viewer returns to a Lynch mystery, they will always have the tools necessary to solve it.

The first half of the film unfolds as a multi-layered classic noir-ish mystery, albeit one where the events we’re seeing are happening all out of order. There is also a heightened sense of reality throughout the first half because what we’re seeing isn’t exactly what has actually happened. The truth is hiding from us and choosing to play a game of peek-a-boo — sometimes literally as we meet death a few times in the film in the form of the person living behind the diner and when that person shows up at the apartment door. One of the keys to understanding the mystery is to give in to it and allow the story to wash over you at first. There are small touches that will stand out. Lynch’s oft used POV shots put us directly in the story. Why would different characters get POV shots? Good question and the answer is one of the keys necessary to unlocking this story.

Cards on the table, everything we’re seeing in this film is from the perspective of Naomi Watts’ character. Her name, at first, is Betty and she has just arrived in Los Angeles to pursue her dream of acting. She befriends Laura Harring’s amnesiac Rita as they try to solve the mystery of the car accident and Rita’s true identity. They stumble across a name of Diane and search her out. When Diane’s apartment is found, it’s in a funhouse mirror version of their current apartment complex. Where Betty’s life in Los Angeles has been brightly lit and full of pluck, everything suddenly shifts to muted and somber. At first, this world revolves around Betty and her life. Everyone seems so invested in her. When the key to the mystery finds its keyhole, the reasoning behind all of this will become crystal clear. Nothing in this film is where it should not be.

One quick little addition here is that Lynch infuses some of this film with hilarious slapstick humor. There’s an entire assassination attempt that goes about as wrong as it could possibly go and the hitman’s attempt to clean up his mess spirals completely out of control in the funniest possible way. There’s also another small detail in this sequence that we’ll dive into in a moment.

Back to the new apartment complex where betty and Rita meet a woman they believe to be the Diane they’re looking for. This woman is not Diane but knows her and she bears a striking resemblance to Rita. Hmmmmmm. Our two leads break into the apartment where they find Diane dead in her bedroom. The only thing we can determine from the dead body is that she was a blonde. Hmmmmmm. They also find a curious blue box that looks to match a blue key in Rita’s possession. Betty and Rita return to the nice apartment in order to figure out their next move. They comfort each other and engage in a love affair. Rita tries on a blonde wig. They are becoming one, in both a figurative and literal sense. Rita and Betty awake to Rita chanting the word: Silencio, over and over again. We’re then transported to a nightclub which goes by the name Silencio. Betty and Rita are ushered in and take their seats. Oh baby, this should have Twin Peaks fans all hot and bothered because this is beginning to directly connect with the fabled show. We’re in the lodge — the black lodge now. The red curtains and blue lights. A performance by Rebekah Del Rio. The sounds and sights of electricity. The mic turning into a pulsing blue orb. This is where souls go to be processed. What is going on? We are so close to answers. But first, the sadness begins to grip everyone involved.

Back at the apartment and Betty has disappeared, leaving Rita in a Betty wig, all alone. She pulls out the blue box and inserts her key. She opens the box to see it empty — a black hole. The camera is again POV here and we get sucked in and through the box.

The film is now completely different.

Everything is more muted and somber, the bright colors and pluck are few and far between. We’re in an alternate world or perhaps we’ve left the alternate world. Betty now goes by the name Diane and Rita goes by the name Camilla. They are lovers on the outs. Things are beginning to clear up. Lynch has partly been telling us a story about ego. We can question everything we’ve seen so far. We humans are infatuated with ourselves. We exist with the idea that we live in a fishbowl, with everyone watching and commenting on our lives. This film was released twenty years ago and it’s even more relevant today. Another relevant tidbit: Lynch stuck himself in this film. Justin Theroux’s conflicted director is Lynch himself. He wants us to understand how difficult this profession can be to navigate in a corporate world. Inspiration can be fleeting and we’re rarely on solid ground.

The film continues and we watch Diane (Watts) spin out of control. She returns to her apartment (the sad one) and throws herself on the bed. Red sheets, look familiar? Her parents are laughing and mocking her in her mind. We originally met them as strangers so full of love and hope for young Betty. Oh the tables have turned. Diane cannot quiet the voices and shoots herself dead in a fit of desperation. The room fills with smoke followed by super lit and superimposed scenes of Betty and Diane before fading out and reentering Club Silencio for good.

So what exactly happened?

What happened is that Naomi Watts starred as a young, hopeful actress named Diane who couldn’t quite catch the breaks she needed to sustain a career. Her girlfriend (Rita/Camilla) caught the breaks and they drifted apart. Diane fell deep into a depression with no end in sight and unfortunately succumbed to her depression by committing suicide. The first half of the film is a rendering of Diane’s life — somewhat as it happened and somewhat as she wished it had been. The Blue box represents the truth and once we pass into it, we’re then in actual reality. This is what happened to Diane. The second half of the film is the harsh truth. Remember the hitman? Did you notice how he had two different colored eyes? One eye was Betty and the other Rita. The first half of the film is the moment between when Diane shot herself and the moment she actually died. Still, as harsh as the story is, Lynch is telling us a love story. Sure it’s sad but you cannot have sadness without happiness, love without anger, life without death. That is the yin and the yang of life. Mulholland Drive is ultimately a film depicting the various stages of our lives. We travel from the wild eyed wonder of infancy to the adventurous spirit and mystery of growing up. We then enter our work/purpose phase and this is often where it can go all right or all wrong or everything in between. This is where the ego rules over all. Adoration can lead to doubt which can breed anxiety and then enter depression which holds the hand of helplessness and walks us up to death’s door. It’s a miracle of a film that throws everything at us and mixes it up to the point where we question our own reality but it also gives us the tools to solve its central mystery. It’s about creation and inspiration as much as it’s about depression and destruction. It’s a journey about the journey and I love it as much as it’s possible to love a film.

One last thing before we go: Naomi Watts is flat-out fucking astonishing in this film. Her performance is easily one fo the best I’ve seen in the last two decades.

Next week, Inland Empire. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #7 – The Straight Story

“A brother’s a brother.”

I was twenty when The Straight Story hit theaters and I skipped it. Lynch was already a fascination of mine but in my arrogance I assumed it was nothing more than a Disney funded cash grab for an artist who struggled to get films made for so long. The Straight Story remained my lone Lynch blind spot throughout my life until very early in 2020 when I decided to watch it on Disney Plus. We were just beginning our Covid quarantine and the thought was, why the hell not?

I’m glad I did because my younger self needs reminders to pass back to my current self that not only did I not know everything, I knew very little — still do but at least I can acknowledge it these days. For the purpose of this project, I rewatched the film this week and managed to mine even more from it — a hallmark of great art.

The Straight Story tells the true story of Alvin Straight, and elderly man who makes a 370 mile journey on his riding lawnmower in order to visit his estranged and suddenly ill brother. That’s it and that’s all we need to know. The magic of the film is all in the relationships Alvin forms on his journey and how we come to better understand him as a human being.

When I was twenty and too busy ignoring this film, I did so because it seemed to not be aligned with anything else Lynch had ever done. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. This is right in line with the themes of love and hope that Lynch has always enjoyed exploring. He’s not as weird and obtuse as he initially seems, he just sees the world for how it really is — weird and obtuse. Lynch loves small town America and the stories hidden within these towns. There is a real beauty to the run down and forgotten because these things were not always this way. They were once new and adored and everything has a story attached to it. The music and cinematography combine to implant this idea deep in our brains. The music is pure Americana and the cinematography moves at the speed of Alvin’s tractor — a brilliant touch. I just noticed this aspect of the film earlier this week. What this does is lend the film a feeling that we’re watching a slide show of a land we have long forgotten. Reminders are always helpful, especially with how wrapped up in our current state we are. The other aspect of small town America Lynch has always nailed is how the residents interact with each other. The stubbornness and bitchiness of elderly people who’ve known each other for decades is very funny and prevalent throughout the film — hell, they even acknowledge it.

Lynch really gets to the heart of the idea of family in this film as well. When Alvin’s daughter receives the phone call about his brother Lyle, the camera slowly pushes in on Alvin’s face and the moment he hears his brother’s name, filmmaking magic. Alvin then lies to his daughter about his doctor’s visit because he knows she will worry herself sick over him and this is another aspect of family: the little lies we tell to loved ones to make them feel better. Rosie asks Alvin what the doctor said and he replies, “He said I’m gonna live to be a hundred.” The smile it produces on his daughter’s face is worth the lie.

The film, as a whole, is a spectacular depiction of the trivial wedges we allow into our lives and how these wedges work deeper and deeper until the gap is larger than we ever thought possible. The film is also about the purity of the human spirit and (again) how love, unabashed love, can conquer the worst. In the end, it doesn’t matter because when you share a deep familial bond, no wedge can break it away in totality. I wish we all spent a little more time in the present and allowing ourselves to be reminded of these things. The film helps us along the way by opening and closing on a starry night sky. Lynch’s characters often look to the sky and I think it’s his way of reminding us that space unites us all. We are all small beings in the context of our universe and nothing out there cares about the minuscule things we moan and groan about. We are all common in the grand scheme.

This all builds up to the final scene and the big payoff of Alvin arriving at his brother Lyle’s house. What a final scene it is. Sparse dialog and a river of history sit between these two men. They have been as close as two people could be and as far away as two people could be. They are two old men with anger that long ago turned to regret hovering between them. Near wordlessly, they once again accept and bask in each other’s love. I love this film and it has grown to mean a lot to me for reasons that are my own. It also stands as one of Lynch’s greatest works and I cannot wait to watch it again.

Next week, Mulholland Drive. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #6 – Lost Highway

“In the East, the Far East, when a person is sentenced to death, they’re sent to a place they can’t escape…”

This quote, which comes late in the film, is the key to unlocking this story’s secrets. Now, I’ve seen this film a handful of times, the first time was in theaters and that didn’t go over well with my friends. This week was the second time this year that I watched this film and the first where I thoroughly enjoyed myself. This is an aspect of Lynch’s work that has been well documented by people, including myself. Lynch makes you work — he makes you earn everything. Lost Highway was a film I struggled to fully appreciate for years and it wasn’t until earlier this year where it all finally clicked for me. So this past week, when I watched it again for the purpose of this piece, it became a rocket ship of awesome insanity.

I won’t bother you with much of the plot because this isn’t even close to a plot driven film. There is the real and the quasi real and then half the film exists in no form of reality whatsoever. To be reductive, it’s a film about an angry and bitter man who murders his wife and is sentenced to death as a result. In prison, this man conjures up an alternate reality in an attempt to reconcile his own emotions with the world and his place in life. The story eventually folds back in around itself and one version of our protagonist speeds away down a lost highway, chased by the police.

To begin, Lynch’s camera during the opening credits, is a maniac. It’s a simple shot of a pitch black highway, lit only by a speeding car’s headlights. It is manic, illicit and frenzied. The credits fly at us like bolts of lightning. This is more than it seems, these little tidbits will come back around full circle by the end of the film. The story then begins proper as we’re taken to the protagonist’s home. Fred, played with restrained detachment by Bill Pullman, is a musician woken from slumber by a buzzing on his intercom.

“Dick Laurent is dead,” is all the voice says. Fred looks outside but there is nobody around. His wife Renee, played with an otherworldly sexual peace by Patricia Arquette, comes down and opens the front door to find an unmarked package on their front steps. Inside is a videotape and on that videotape is camcorder footage of the inside of their home. Unsettling. Everything Lynch does in the early going is unsettling. His camera has now slowed down to resemble security footage — as if we are the ones spying on Fred and Renee. The sound design, again (I know, broken record), is top notch and used to build an immense amount of dread. We are so confused by what is happening or the lack of anything meaningful happening. But beneath the surface resides a storm of emotion. Lynch spends most of the film exploring shadow and light. This rewatch is really hitting home that Twin Peaks: The Return was Lynch’s way of connecting and commenting on his entire career. The colors red and black are significant in this film. They represent desire and danger, violence and death. The colors can be amorphous but they are representing an extremely violent yin and yang of Fred’s world.

The more time we spend with Fred, the more we see him unhappy in life. It’s clear he doesn’t trust his wife and thinks she’s cheating on him. He’s stuck but he’s also too much of an ineffectual nothing to actually take command of anything. He is constantly retreating into shadows — into his own darkness. The film continues to explore “dark places” and when we join Fred and Renee at a party, Fred is cracking. It’s here where he first meets the white faced man, played with demonic gusto by Robert Blake. Quick side note here, Robert Blake is supernaturally good in this role. I know, I know, perhaps this hit kind of close to home for him but it is worth mentioning how incredible his performance is. The white faced man is elusive and speaks in riddles but he also serves to egg Fred on, but to what? The answer comes quick as Fred is shown a tape of himself right after he has brutally murdered his wife. Fred is arrested, convicted, and sentenced to die by electric chair. He is trapped in prison and we feel his claustrophobia. It’s also here in the film where we realize how tight everything through this point has been shot with Fred. Lynch has put us in Fred’s skin, making us crawl and fidget with how uncomfortable and closed in we feel.

It is in prison where this film goes completely crazy. Fred wakes up one morning and he is no longer Fred. He’s a young guy named Pete, played by Balthazar Getty. Nobody can figure out where Fred went and where Pete came from. Pete is returned to his parents’ house and soon continues his normal life as a mechanic. Right off the bat, the film settles down. Lynch uses a wider color palette and shoots the film in a more traditional way. Pete is normal. Pete is well liked by everyone. Women throw themselves at Pete. Pete has it all. The first part of the film feels almost sterile compared to how alive Pete is in his world. Pete gets a visit from an older rich man named Mr. Eddy, played exactly how you’d expect from Robert Loggia. Mr. Eddy loves how smart Pete is when it comes to cars. Mr. Eddy also has a woman with him played by Patricia Arquette. Her name is Alice and she’s blonde instead of a red head now. Alice only has eyes for Pete and he for her. They begin an illicit affair. This is all vitally important because it shows how wanted Pete is by Alice compared to Renee’s indifference toward Fred.

Pete begins to unravel a bit as the affair continues and Mr. Eddy begins to catch on. The air kicks up a dangerous wind directed at everyone involved. Pete begins having visions and dreams of a seedy motel with a layout like a maze. Pete eventually agrees to help Alice rob her friend Andy so they can run off together. They accidentally kill Andy and when they run, the stop at a mysterious cabin where they disrobe and have sex one final time. Pete tells Alice he wants her and she whispers in his ear, “you can never have me.” She then walks into the cabin and disappears. When Pete stands back up, he’s transformed back to Fred. This is where he again meets the white faced man and the quote from the top of the piece is uttered. Key given. Secrets unlocked. Lynch was doing inception over a decade before Nolan. Pete doesn’t actually exist — he’s a fantasy that Fred conjured up to make himself feel better. Pete is how Fred wishes he was perceived by the world. It’s the life he thinks he deserves. The film uses dreams and fantasies as a way for our protagonist to act out his deepest and darkest desires. Fred is transported to that seedy motel and arrives just after his wife Renee has slept with Mr. Eddy, who in the real world is named Dick Laurent. Fred bursts in and beats the shit out of Dick, eventually throwing him in the trunk of his car. They arrive back at that cabin where Dick tackles Fred to the ground. An unseen man hands Fred a knife and he promptly slits Dick’s throat. The unseen man is revealed to be the white faced man who then shoots Dick dead.

Several things here, obviously the white faced man doesn’t actually exist. He is either the devil or the devil inside of Fred. He is Fred’s rage manifested into human form. This is how it all happened. Fred killed his wife’s lover and then killed her in a rage. Everything else is fantasy. Lost Highway is perhaps Lynch’s most nihilistic film. He usually has an undercurrent of love or hope but this one is all rage. It’s about power and fear — specifically the fear of women and how men try to exert power over them. Lynch has a penchant for turning the ordinary extraordinary and never more so than in Lost Highway. I was reminded of two specific Lynch works when watching Lost Highway: Blue Velvet and Wild at Heart. Lost Highway is similar in theme to Blue Velvet if the world contained no love. As for Wild at Heart, Fred reminds me of Sailor in an inverted sense and if he was never able to escape his own demons. Lynch likes to circle around themes, often exploring the same ones in multiple works.

And now we come to the finale with the newly Pete-free Fred arriving at his home to ring the buzzer. Once it’s answered, he says, “Dick Laurent is dead.” Fred turns to see the police arrive and takes off in his car. The police give chase and this closes the loop of the “plot” of Lost Highway. How could Fred be two people or even three people at the same time? He can’t and it doesn’t matter because none of this is actually happening anyway. Remember the quote I used at the top? This is what it all means. This is the world Fred is trapped in. He cannot escape…or can he?

We end with Fred fleeing the police and racing down a desolate highway. The camera shifts back to what we saw during the opening credits. The frenzy has come full circle. Fred screams and shakes his head violently, we see flashes of light. The film ends. Yeah, but like what’s the deal? Simple, Fred was put to death by electric chair at that moment of his journey through his psychological prison. The only thing that could free him was the carrying out of his death sentence. Done and done. Man oh man has this film jumped up my list of Lynch faves.

Next week, The Straight Story. Until then love each other.

David Lynch Friday #5 – Wild At Heart

Wild At Heart. Phewwwww boy. Where to begin? I don’t know how to write about this film and it’s beginning to terrify me. I looked over my notes and they don’t make any sense — they’re all questions. I specifically remembering deciding not to get stoned beforehand because I knew this film was a bit of a crazy ride. Now, I’m wondering if I did get high before watching and somehow forgot that I did that. Seriously, this is a question I wrote down and I present it to you verbatim: Is this a visual representation of smoking a cigarette? Love=cigarette?

Uh, what?

First, it’s Lynch and then on top of that, it’s Nicolas Cage. Lynch and Cage together is a recipe for volcanic eruption. Then, you add Willem Defoe and it becomes the end of the goddamn world.

What’s it about?

It’s about a karate kicking guy named Sailor, who’s in love with a hyper sexual woman named Lula. Lula’s mother is a maniac in love with a mobster and she hates Sailor with a passion. She will stop at nothing to murder him in order to keep him away from her daughter. Sailor and Lula embark on a cross country trip full of every vice imaginable as they flee Lula’s mother. There is a ton of sex, multiple cigarettes being smoked at once, murder, mayhem, car accidents, a robbery gone wrong, a decapitation and of course, a snakeskin jacket. After all, it’s a symbol of Sailor’s individuality.

Is it good?

Yes, in a crazy way and definitely not a for everyone way. The film starts, right off the bat, at level 100 and only escalates from there. It can be a bit exhausting. There’s a line in the film that goes: the world is wild at heart and weird on top. That’s Lynch’s philosophy on life and here he is all about showing us the unkempt nature of blossoming love. For the record, the actors are all fantastic in their own scenery chewing ways. Cage has always been both the best and worst actor alive and here he lays the blueprint for every supernova Cage we’ll see during the rest of his career.

We can’t escape the crazy in this film — it’s all consuming. Even when the film slows down a bit as Sailor and Lula reach the town of Big Tuna, we’re only exchanging crazy for a different sort of more unsettling crazy. And then the film ramps it all up again. It is sort of mesmerizing in a reckless way.

Lynch sprinkles plenty of his Twin Peaks cohorts around in the film and also tips his hand toward what we would see in a couple years with Fire Walk With Me. Lynch is always mining himself and his viewer for a deeper understanding of what makes us all tick. Wild at Heart is more soap opera than crime flick while also being Lynch’s completely fucked up version of, The Wizard Of Oz. It’s all there and honestly pretty overt, especially for Lynch. It’s like melding Oz with the Hell depicted in The Divine Comedy.

Everything in the film is set at odds with Sailor and Lula — they are all distractions wishing to keep Sailor and Lula from their ultimate goal. It’s an awesome representation of the trials of young love when two lovers must decide if what they have is real and sustaining or flippant and fleeting. They are tested, and the cigarettes do mean something. Lynch loves the flame and loves the phrase: fire walk with me. Even if that phrase is never uttered in this film, it’s there for us to infer. The flame here represents burning desire and everything else is life after desire has burned itself out. Most of the characters are like zombies because they’ve become trapped by their own emotional failings. Sailor and Lula (really Sailor) are headed here as well until two things: Lula’s pregnancy and Sailor triumphing over his own demons. Lula makes a decision to live her life for their son and Sailor makes a decision to initially stay wild and let Lula go. He’s then assaulted by a group of random thugs after calling them an insensitive sexual slur. It’s after his beating that he realizes the error of his ways. And we realize these thugs to be a representation of Sailor’s inner demons. You cannot conquer your demons with violence and ugliness. You have to recognize them and accept them if you ever hope to walk away and move forward. Sailor finally learns this lesson and returns to Lula and his son, a (slightly) changed man and we’ve all learned a little bit about acceptance.

Next week, Lost Highway. Until then, love each other.

David Lynch Friday #4 – Blue Velvet

“I don’t know if you’re a detective or a pervert.”

The above line sums up a central theme of the film with succinct accuracy. I have vague memories of my parents renting this film when I was a child. I was not allowed to watch it at around seven or eight years old. What I do remember is sneaking into the hallway to try and see what it was I wasn’t allowed to see. I remember Kyle Maclachlan because I was obsessed with Dune at the time and I remember Dennis Hopper because he was always screaming and had that oxygen mask. As soon as I was old enough, I rented the film for myself and I rarely go long without a re-watch. I love this film. I consider it one of the very best films of the 1980s and one of my favorite films of David Lynch’s entire career.

What’s the deal?

It’s a mystery and a hyper-sexualized coming of age story all rolled into a two hour feature film. It stars Kyle Maclachlan as Jeffrey, a college student returned home after his father falls ill, who happens across a severed ear in a field and takes it upon himself to investigate. Laura Dern co-stars as Sandy, a high school senior who is the daughter of a local detective on this case. She aids Jeffrey in his own investigation and the two form a budding romantic relationship. Dennis Hopper plays a psychotic criminal who is the perpetrator of the severed ear and Isabella Rossellini stars as a lounge singer in debt to Hopper and thus subjected to his violent whims. Maybe this is Lynch’s version of a Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew mystery — more vibrant in its first half while devolving into a shadowy masterwork in its second half. There’s no need to get into plot specifics here. It’s an interesting and well-told mystery but that is all window dressing to what Lynch is truly after.

In fact, Lynch dishes his thesis in the first few moments. We see scenes of idyllic small town life, full of vibrant color and playful music — white picket fence, flowers, birds, bustling life. Then it quickly gets muddy — both in a figurative and literal sense. As Jeffrey’s father is watering the lawn, the hose kinks and as he struggles, tragedy strikes. He falls unconscious on the ground as the hose goes wild. We see the image of a gun. The dog attacks the hose like a maniac. The camera then moves below the surface of the picturesque lawn — down in the muck we see ants eating and attacking. Nature can be visceral and violent and it all hides just beneath the calm surface. It is always there.

I love how Lynch’s worlds seem off and weird but the truth is that if we were to just stop and observe our own world around us, we would see that he’s never far off from reality. Another important aspect to Lynch’s work, especially here, is his impeccable ear. He is obsessed with sound and his films reflect this — they always sound natural. He continues down this path in the early half of the film as we begin to meet the players and the mystery deepens. Maclachlan and Dern have instant and perfect chemistry — they will become Lynch’s two most indelible co-conspirators as their respective careers blossom. Lynch also infuses the first half of the film with an intense color palette — almost begging us to believe that nothing bad can actually happen.

Then we go to the slow club.

The red curtains. A singer’s introduction. The blue light hits and everything changes. Looking back now, yeah, major Twin Peaks inspiration right here. We are woefully unprepared for the second half of this film. Lynch’s camera at first was observational but now we see it differently — it is voyeuristic. The quote at the top comes back to mind because it’s not just Sandy asking Jeffrey a question disguised as an observation, it is actually directed at us. What are we about? Where are we hoping this film will go? Are we comfortable with our desires? When Jeffrey gets caught in the apartment, a stunning reversal happens. His intrusion is immediately reciprocated. The violation is returned and both involved actually get off on it. It is bold and unflinching and the film is better for it.

We think we still have a handle on the film until Dennis Hopper shows up a few seconds later. He is electrifying and terrifying in equal measure — an all-timer on the film villain list. At the same time he is a stand-in for the dog in the film’s opening. He’s crazy and commands our intention but the real shit is happening beneath the surface. He is our usher into depravity. It’s here where we begin to realize a few things. First, Jeffrey is a boy becoming a man and this is his first glimpse into adulthood. He likes Sandy because she represents the purity of childhood that he still partly craves. But he also likes Dorothy because she represents the dangerous lust he’s beginning to crave as an adult. In return, Sandy likes Jeffrey because she has not yet crossed over into adulthood and Jeffrey represents her own usher. Dorothy, for her part, likes Jeffrey because he is the only thing in her life she has a bit of control over. The real premise begins to present itself: this is an anti-hero’s journey. Jeffrey selfishly wants it all but is unprepared at this stage in his life.

Once we make this connection, everything becomes clear. Lynch is telling a story about the passage from childhood to adulthood. The film is littered with scenes depicting the clash between these two stages of life. For example, Jeffrey’s journey begins with the hospital visit to see his father. This is the moment where his innocence is lost. Even before finding the ear, this is it. Children view their parents as seemingly invincible and their entire world changes when they get smacked with reality.

Lynch drags us further down the depravity well as we spend more time in the company of Hopper’s Frank Booth and cohorts. The Candy Colored Clowns scene is oddly chilling only to be outdone by itself a few moments later in a wicked reprise of the same song. Frank is pure depravity — the dark heart of man. Like I said, he is our usher. There is an animalistic nature to mankind and it hides beneath the surface of civilized society but it is always there, waiting.

But this being Lynch, there is still hope. Jeffrey prevails over the evil Frank Booth. There are two sides to man and those sides must be balanced with precision. Jeffrey taps into his vicious side but never succumbs to it. There can be no light without dark and vice versa. The robins return to the trees and bring love back with them. Love is greater than viciousness. Through all the darkness and flame, we come out the other side more understanding of the world. If violence is a part of nature, so is love and love can conquer all.

Next week, Wild At Heart. Until then, love each other.