Tag: love

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.

My Favorite Television From The Pandemic Year 2020

We all had a lot more time than usual to watch television over the course of this past year. Still, this being a new golden age of the medium, I didn’t get a chance to watch all of the shows I intended to give a go. Shows like: The Good Lord Bird, The Queen’s Gambit, and season two of The Boys are still on my to-do list. The rest of this list is comprised of shows I watched and enjoyed for various reasons. They also either premiered, or primarily aired new content in this pandemic year of 2020.

First, my honorable mentions. These are the shows I really enjoyed but because of some arbitrary ruling on my part, they didn’t quite crack my top ten. In fact, list making is kind of crazy, is it not? I’ve been making lists my entire life as my anxiety riddled brain has required this action in order to function. I have lists of books to read, games to play, and movies/tv to watch. I have lists of everything media related I’ve ever consumed, ranked in some way or another. My brain depends on this level of order and websites like Letterboxd and Goodreads have been godsends to me. Anyway, here goes.

The HMs: THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR – I adore Mike Flanagan’s work. He’s a horror aficionado with an enormous heart. This is why he’s been the most successful adapter of Stephen King’s work. Here, he oversaw a heart wrenching ghost love story that worked on every level. TALES FROM THE LOOP – Amazon got in on some awesome sci-fi storytelling this past year. Tales is a show more admired than loved but it’s themes revolving around loss of innocence and grief dug deep. LOCKE & KEY – An adaptation of Joe Hill’s brilliant comic series hit me in just the right spot. Perfectly cast. HIGH FIDELITY – Zoe Kravitz is incredible in this show and it’s an absolute fucking travesty that Hulu canceled it after its debut season. DEVS – Alex Garland is a genius and this short series smoked the new season of Westworld in every conceivable way while covering many of the same ideas.

And now, onward.

10. PRIMAL – Genndy Tartakovsky is a masterful storyteller. Samurai Jack is an all-timer and Primal looks likely to join it’s older sibling in many hearts and minds. This show debuted it’s first five episodes over a year ago but finished it’s season one run recently. It’s about a caveman who lost his family in violent fashion and a dinosaur who lost her family in violent fashion. They team up to survive in a harsh landscape that never relents. Impressionistic to the max.

9. RAMY SEASON 2 – Hulu’s Ramy is a brilliant show. It’s eye opening and thought provoking while still being hilarious. I love every single character in this show and especially love how the show can give entire episodes to side characters without missing a beat. Truly special.

8. LOVECRAFT COUNTRY – Jonathan Majors is a fucking movie star in the making. This show is batshit crazy and tonally all over the god damn map. And I loved every second of it.

7. THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 – Improves on season one in every conceivable way. Great villains and even better cameos. Favreau and Filoni are rounding out an entire universe here and it’s something to behold. The Boba Fett reveal was amazing but the appearance of Ahsoka (maybe my favorite Star Wars character) had me near tears. I’m not even broaching the finale for those who’ve yet to see it.

6. LITTLE FIRES EVERYWHERE – Kerry Washington gave the performance of the past decade in this gem from Hulu. This should be required viewing for white people in order for us to see the ignorant mistakes we continue to make with anyone and everyone who doesn’t look like us.

5. WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS SEASON 2 – The funniest show on television. Everything about Jackie Daytona was incredible. Colin’s power trip was insane. The ghost episode left me on the floor. The Superb Owl episode had me howling. In the end, however, Guillermo stole the show all season and finished with one hell of a shift in the power dynamic. Bravo.

4. TED LASSO – The show we all needed during quarantine. Hilarious and heartwarming in equal measure. The show is cast perfectly and written just as well. I cannot overstate the positive energy that flows from each episode of this show.

3. WOKE – The most recent show I’ve watched. Lamorne Morris is one of my favorite people to watch and listen to on camera. The dude has impeccable timing. He was easily the best on New Girl and stole the show in Game Night. (The glass tables bit still kills me to this day) Here, he’s playing a heightened version of a real person and the results are phenomenal. The show is equal in it’s delivery of jokes and it’s need to amplify racial injustice. Brilliant, BRILLIANT show.

2. HOW TO WITH JOHN WILSON – I’m a New Yorker who moved to Texas this year. I miss home more than I ever thought I would. John Wilson perfectly captures New York City and the maniacs who call it home. My wife and I binged the entire season in one afternoon and we’re dying for more as soon as possible, please and thank you.

1. DESUS & MERO – Again, these guys are on my books list and now this list for the same reason: they make me feel like home isn’t as far away as it feels. Watching these two bullshitters (like so many people I grew up with) late at night, while a little stoned and laughing my ass completely off, has been the most fun I’ve had all year. New season in a few weeks!

Annnnnnnnd dismount! We’re done. Go fight with each other on twitter. Just kidding. Stop fighting with each other.

Next week, games. 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.

My 10 Favorite Books Of The Pandemic Year 2020

If there was a silver lining to 2020, we’re still waiting to find out what it was. I’m kidding but not really but we’ll pretend I am. If there WAS any sort of silver lining through the pandemic year, it was that quarantining led to an abundance of time to absorb different forms of art and media. In the next four weeks, I’ll be sharing my favorites in books, television, gaming and film. We’ll start with books and according to my Goodreads, I read sixty eight books and over twenty thousand pages this year. I remember beginning early with Alan Moore’s nearly 1300 page doorstop of a novel, Jerusalem. He’s so talented that I actually think I hate him. I am definitely intimidated by his seemingly limitless ability. I also mixed in plenty of comics, which is nothing new for me. Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez found some extra creative life out of their Locke and Key series and Hill himself released the awesome, Basketful of Heads. We also received the final run of issues for both, Sex Criminals and Gideon Falls. So yeah, 2020 delivered more beautiful art and writing from three of my favorite comic series ever. We also received the first issue of, The Last Ronin, the astonishing new take on TMNT.

As for the rest, I mixed in some nonfiction with my fiction (still skew heavily toward fiction). Read some memoirs like Greenlights and another one which will be on the list. Didn’t get to as many as I would’ve liked but I like to think that those are good problems. Overall, I didn’t really read a bad book this year and that is always a welcome occurrence. Caught up on some of the backlog, read some new stuff and even revisited some old favorites such as The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

But enough blathering on, these were my favorite reads of the pandemic year 2020.

HONORABLE MENTION: FIND ME by Andre Aciman – The sequel to the beloved Call Me By Your Name catches us off guard by spending the first part of the novel with Elio’s father as he embarks on a newfound journey of love. We then meet an older Elio and eventually catch up with Oliver and it isn’t until late in the novel that the two lovers from the first novel reunite. Regardless, Aciman writes with delicate affection for life and love and he treats us to another special offering.

10. MADI: ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE FUTURE by Alex Di Campi and Duncan Jones – This was a Kickstarter project for a graphic novel that would serve as the final part of a trilogy Jones began with the films, Moon and Mute. Di Campi and Jones create a story that is equal parts heartwarming and heartbreaking while being joined by dozens of the best artists in the business (each drawing approximately six pages of this project) ultimately crafting something wholly unique.

9. ANTKIND by Charlie Kaufman – A book about a film that takes a few months to view. A book about a man losing everything in his life, even his mind. A book about destruction, about hope, about love, about anger, about anxiety, about depression. It’s a big one but we should come to expect nothing less from a man so full of ideas that his first book has almost too many. Somehow, Kaufman may end up on two different year end lists for me this go around. His brain is one of a kind.

8. THE LIVING DEAD by George Romero – The sign off from an all-time great. Romero was still pushing at the boundaries until his dying breath and this novel, his final work, ties off his decades long zombie saga with an insane amount of depth and heart. This is a must read for any horror fans out there.

7. FAIR WARNING & THE LAW OF INNOCENCE by Michael Connelly – So a cheat, I know. Maybe we should instead focus on how it’s possible Connelly can release two books of this ridiculous quality in the same calendar year. First, He finally brought Jack MacEvoy back for those of us who were sorely missing the dogged reporter and this one was a doozy. Connelly’s best villain since The Poet. Second, Connelly released another Mickey Haller thriller and this time, everyone’s favorite defense attorney was tasked with defending himself…in a murder trial. Again, Connelly is supernaturally prolific.

6. BROKEN by Don Winslow – A book of six stories that all represent some broken aspect of the American dream. Winslow not only never disappoints, he’s getting better and more incisive each time out.

5. HOLLYWOOD PARK by Mikel Jollett- A memoir about fathers and mothers and their sons, about abuse, about addiction, about growing up, about losing your shit, about perseverance, about humility, about the grandiose nature of life, a little bit about a cult and a whole-lotta-bit about love. Jollett writes with a painter’s touch — like words aren’t enough.

4. UTOPIA AVENUE by David Mitchell – This not being number one on my list is indicative of how struck I was by the next three novels. Utopia Avenue is a masterpiece. I loved every word. I wish I actually knew these characters, especially Elf. I fucking love her so much. It’s the story of a British psychedelic rock band in the midst of rising stardom in the 1960s. Oh but it’s also about so much more than that. It is the essence of life. It is about a centuries old demon trying to kill one of the characters due to a vengeful blood lust. It’s about a hundred other things. Mitchell finds ways to tie this novel to almost every single other novel he’s written. It’s like a magic trick that brings the reader nothing but joy.

3. CONSIDER THIS: MOMENTS IN MY WRITING LIFE… by Chuck Palahniuk – Chuck finally sat down to write a novel about writing. It’s the most entertaining, helpful, and useful book on writing that I have ever read. It is my new bible and has already helped improve my own craftsmanship. A must read for any writers out there.

2. GOD-LEVEL KNOWLEDGE DARTS: LIFE LESSONS FROM THE BRONX by Desus and Mero – These two have been my saving grace this year. They are, at once, hilarious and incisive. They cut through any and all bullshit while they bullshit. I moved form New York to Texas this year and these two have kept me feeling like home isn’t too far away. Between their show on Showtime and this book, they’ve helped me stay sane. Easily one of the funniest books I have ever read.

1. BLACKTOP WASTELAND by S.A. Cosby – This motherfucker right here. This badass, fucking razor sharp stiletto of a novel right here. Blacktop Wasteland is a crime novel like we haven’t read before. Sure, there are echoes of Walter Mosley and Elmore Leonard in these pages but Cosby isn’t as laid back as those two. No, he wants it all right there, right up front. His characters aren’t just cool, they’re real. This is an important distinction and it’s what separates the pretenders from the contenders. Perhaps this isn’t the best analogy because Cosby ain’t even a contender, he’s got a boot up on that throne. This baby cooks with gasoline from page one, never lets us go and never lets any of its characters off the hook. I haven’t been this excited from my first experience with a writer since I read Ken Bruen’s The Guards. Cosby is that. Fucking. Good.

That’s all I got, folks. Keep reading. Next week will be television (spoiler alert: Desus and Mero pop back up). 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 #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.

David Lynch Friday #2 – The Elephant Man

Remember when I said how surprised I was that Lynch could get money for more work in the wake of Eraserhead? Well, it turns out, he could not. After Erasherhead was out in the wild, Lynch wrote a script titled, “Ronnie Rocket.” The script was shopped everywhere and nobody was interested. Lynch called a friend and asked for work directing someone else’s script. He was pitched, The Elephant Man and immediately jumped at this opportunity. The script found its way into the hands of Anne Bancroft (who would end up playing a role in the film) who then showed it to her husband, Mel Brooks. The picture was on but Brooks had no idea who Lynch was and so asked for a screening of Erasherhead. Lynch figured this would doom him. Upon exiting the screening, Brooks ran to Lynch and said, “you’re a madman, I love you, you’re in.” The Elephant Man would go on to receive eight Oscar nominations, including direction and adapted screenplay for Lynch himself. They would win zero but not shabby at all for a second feature.

The film opens with circus music as Anthony Hopkins’ character makes his way through a backstreet sideshow. Lynch pulls no punches from the beginning. He is putting the onus of this story on us, the audience. What will we make out of this? He cloaks each scene in alternating bright light and deep, husky shadow. The black and white photography is gorgeous, at once offering itself as a vessel for seedy territory and of 19th century elegance. Lynch is obsessed with depicting the ugly side of industry. He comes back to this over and over again throughout the film. Progress cannot happen without creating downtrodden to step over. It’s a vicious cycle.

Anthony Hopkins plays Doctor Frederick Treves, who hears of this Elephant Man and manages to secure himself a private viewing. We receive the initial shock of the deformed man’s appearance but Lynch is smart to only show two quick glimpses and then focus the rest on Hopkins’ face. The doctor perhaps came for a thrill but now wants to help the deformed man, named John Merrick (real name was Joseph Merrick). Treves gets Merrick to the hospital and subjects him to a thorough examination in front of an auditorium of his colleagues. Merrick remains hidden to our view throughout this process. Lynch instead opens this examination by pointing the camera directly at us, the audience. The light clicks on — shines a light on our own soul. The examination ends and we’re POV with the camera once again — shutting down. Some would say the camera snatches the soul. Well, we are now complicit. Again, what do we want out of this? Lynch chooses to hold our feet to the fire, illuminating (quite literally) how we view some in our society monsters based on appearance and nothing else. It is society that is the monster — an ever hungry and feeding beast. Perhaps, Lynch is enlightening us as to what fame can be like for those in the constant crosshairs of a society who loves to build people up only to revel in their eventual fall from grace.

The way Lynch shocks us with the first glimpse and then hides Merrick’s appearance for a while gives off an illicit vibe. Are we sure we’re ready for this? And by that I mean are we ready to plumb the depths of our own souls? Once we’re complicit, we are fair game. We’re then forced to make a choice. Merrick will now be depicted plainly to us — no longer hidden. Merrick is blossoming due to kindness and our reactions are ours to own.

The depiction of John Merrick by the late, great Joh Hurt blows me away every time I see this film. It’s so physical yet delicate. His mannerisms and speech are deliberate and nuanced. Nearly any other year and Hurt waltzes away with the Oscar but unfortunately he lost to DeNiro’s mind-melting performance in Raging Bull. Anthony Hopkins, for his part, has this way of speaking that seems as if we’re always hearing his innermost thoughts. I have always loved this about him and here, he is so restrained and composed in his performance. Legend.

There is a famous line form this film when Merrick is being chased through the train station as he attempts to return to the hospital. It reads:

I am not an animal. I am a human being. I am a man!

It’s a great line and delivered with the perfect mixture of anger and anguish by Hurt. I would, however, like to point out two other lines that speak to the enormous heart Lynch has and has infused all of his work with.

Anne Bancroft says the following after reading some Shakespeare with Merrick:

You’re no Elephant Man at all. You’re Romeo.

She then kisses him on the cheek and Merrick cries. I cry. My heart is nearly as full as Merrick’s heart in this moment. But we’re not done because upon his return to the hospital and Treves is busy apologizing to Merrick for not better protecting his patient and friend, Merrick stops him with this:

I am happy every hour of the day. My heart is full because I know I am loved.

Dead. I’m dead. This beautiful fucking film has executed me.

Now, it’s no secret in the film that due to his increasing deformities, Merrick is not long for the world. He knows this as well. The last we see of him is him removing the pillows on his bed so that he may sleep like a painting hanging in his room. We know he will die because of this. He knows he will die because of this. He looks at the picture of his mother that rests on his bedside table — his most cherished possession. In fact, his mother looms over the entire film, at once his antidote to a cruel world and also a bit of an albatross that keeps him hanging on. Merrick finally lets go and as he dies, he sees a vision of his mother. She calls to him and tells him everything will be fine. And delivers one final line:

Nothing will die.

A perfect ending.

Not many films can claim this but The Elephant Man is such a film.

Next week, the very first Lynch film I ever saw as a child, Dune. Until then, love each other.

The Very Best Of The PS4 Generation

Seven years is a good run. Not the longest generation of consoles but not the shortest either. I play a lot of games in my downtime — it’s how I relax. I’m forty-one years old and video games have been with me my entire life. We’ve grown up alongside each other. Today, I’m going to break down the best games of this past generation. This generation was the first in a long time that I didn’t also own an xbox console — I didn’t see the point. Sony dominates the first party conversation and Microsoft dropped the ball this time around. I will also not be commenting on Nintendo games, I have a Switch but Nintendo usually deserves their own post because they continue to march to their own beat.

We’ll begin with ten third party games (or in one specific case, series) that I found to be a cut above the rest. CONTROL delivered an incredibly complex sci-fi story wrapped around a third person action/superhero game. Fans of Twin Peaks and the X-Files would be well served by this one. Tons of performance issues but several patches and now new machines have helped this quite a bit. HELLBLADE: SENUA’S SACRIFICE gave us an extremely moving story about mental illness inside of a barbaric action game. Play this one with headphones on as the audio design is some of the best I’ve ever experienced. KENTUCKY ROUTE ZERO TV EDITION was an action adventure title that played as a dreamy metaphor of life and death — of struggle and acceptance. Again, fans of Twin Peaks or David Lynch in general will eat this up. LIFE IS STRANGE has become one of my favorite things ever. Another adventure title with most of its emphasis on story, this entire series pulled every one of my heart strings. The story of two estranged best friends trying to reconnect while solving a series of murders and attempting to alter time to save their town, hooked me. We then got a prequel showing how the murders began and that was pretty great too. The official second season followed two Mexican-American brothers as they fled the police following an extraordinary event ending with the police killing their father. This sort of nuanced story is why I still play games. METAL GEAR SOLID 5 delivered in spades. Kojima’s final effort for Konami before going solo was a wonder to behold. A bit lighter on the typical bonkers Metal gear story but providing us the best gameplay in the series’ history. Metal Gear Solid is my favorite game ever and Kojima is my favorite developer ever. He’s the David Lynch of games — more on him in a bit. RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 is the best game Rockstar has ever made. It started slow, almost too slow for me but by the end, we were given a story that, had it been filmed for television, would’ve swept the Emmy Awards. It still blows my mind that nobody has tried to option this yet. RESIDENT EVIL 2 was remade last year and delivered the best Resident Evil game ever, save for RE4. The new version of the Tyrant is terrifying and awesome all the same. TITANFALL 2 is perhaps the best feeling first person shooter I’ve ever played. Buttery smooth and fluid. Great action and greater fights. WHAT REMAINS OF EDITH FINCH is another adventure title that focused most on story. This time we were given a tragic family history in beautifully rendered little vignettes — like reading a great collection of short stories. WOLFENSTEIN: THE NEW ORDER – The first level of this game sucks, almost to the point that you won’t play further. Mistake. Once BJ wakes up in that hospital, this game delivers insane action, great stealth and surprisingly beautiful writing. I swear, the people who wrote this one had just binged some Cormac McCarthy.

Onto my beloved Playstation.

Five games spoke to me enough to write about while not quite cracking my top ten of this generation. CONCRETE GENIE was whimsical and fun to play. It was full of color and sweet nature while telling a story about bullying and believing in yourself. DETROIT BECOME HUMAN is the best game Quantic Dream has created. A cautionary tale set in the near future that is as much about xenophobia, bigotry and general fucked up-ness in our current society as it is about androids in the future. GHOST OF TSUSHIMA is the most recent release and a stellar one. Full of extravagant art direction, a beautiful score and rock solid third person samurai/stealth gameplay, it delivered everything. UNCHARTED 4 was awesome and supremely polished but also a bit too long. It felt like the end and like nobody working on it really wanted it to actually end. UNTIL DAWN took the teen slasher flick and decided to out Quantic Dream the studio they were attempting to ape. This one arguably should have made my list.

Now, the official first party (and/or PlayStation exclusive) top ten.

10 – DAYS GONE – I was lucky to have waited a few weeks before firing this one up. I understand it was chock full of performance issues at launch but by the time I began my play through, those were largely fixed by several patches. Think Sons of Anarchy mixed with 28 Days Later while playing Syphon Filter. A bit rough around the edges but Sam Witwer gave a phenomenal performance and those horde fights were the stuff of legend.

9 – RATCHET & CLANK – A remake/reimagining of a beloved Playstation staple, this game delivered perfect gameplay, gorgeous visuals and a pretty hilarious story. Play it, you won’t regret it.

8 – UNCHARTED: LOST LEGACY – Where was Chloe in Uncharted 4? She’s right here, lol. This was released after Uncharted 4 and many assumed it was just dlc. No, this was a full fledged game albeit shorter in length than its predecessor. This shorter length really helped keep the narrative focused and thus ended up being the superior entry.

7 – SPIDER-MAN – I have loved Spider-Man since I was a little kid. This is the game I always dreamed I would one day be able to play. The swing mechanics are perfect and the story was pretty great too. (Miles Morales is, for sure, on my 2020 GOTY list)

6 – FINAL FANTASY 7 REMAKE – This one surprised me a bit. Next to Metal Gear, Final Fantasy is my favorite franchise in gaming. Hell, as a franchise, it is my favorite. Seven was never my favorite entry, I really liked it and from a technological standpoint, the leap from six to seven was mind blowing but it somehow kept me at arm’s length. The intense focus this remake shows and its ability to grow the story around Midgar so much provided me with the most joy I’ve felt from this franchise in a long time. I am and always will be a sucker for Final Fantasy.

5 – GOD OF WAR – This game uses a single camera shot through its entire runtime. That previous sentence doesn’t even make sense but it’s also not false. I still think about this aspect of the game and shake my head, laughing. Sony Santa Monica also made me care about Kratos for the first time in the history of this particular franchise. He was so much more nuanced and haggard this time around. The move to Norse mythology helped this franchise as well. A monumental creation.

4 – HORIZON: ZERO DAWN – Fun. Plain and simple. This has to be the most underrated game of this generation. It was overshadowed by The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild upon release and that’s a shame. By the way, BOTW happens to be the most overrated game of this past generation. Horizon did nearly every single thing BOTW did and didn’t sacrifice any story to do it. Wonderful game.

3 – BLOODBORNE – I wasn’t a big Souls guy. Bloodborne intrigued me because of its Gothic horror setting. It reminded me of Castlevania. I played it. I hated it. I died a hundred times before even making it to the first boss. Then that boss, The Cleric Beast, whooped my ass another ten times. I hated the game more. Then I beat The Cleric Beast. I thought I understood the game. I fought the next boss, Father Gascoigne. He whopped my ass to a degree that sent me driving, in a rage, to GameStop. I walked in, no words, and threw the game on the counter. I then said, “fuck this game and I don’t care what you give me for it.” The kid smiled and began to laugh but then talked me into keeping the game. He gave me a few tips. I went home and fought Father Gascoigne again and he whooped my ass a few more times. Then I beat him. Then I beat Vicar Amelia at the last second with only a shred of health left. I dropped my controller and howled. I’ve never experienced exhilaration like that. I then proceeded to be the one whooping ass. Fucking Bloodborne, lol.

2 – THE LAST OF US PART 2 – I’ll keep this short because I’ve already written thousands of words on this work of art. It’s easily my 2020 game of the year and it’s one of the greatest ever achievements in this medium. The story is so deep that you can continue, to this day, to mine new and intimate things from it. I love this game with all my heart. It made me weep more than once. Some of you who are unfamiliar with The Last Of Us are not prepared in any way for what will be unleashed by the upcoming HBO series. This is the best of this medium, save for one.

1 – DEATH STRANDING – I told you there’d be more on Hideo Kojima. This is another one I’ve already written about at length. I had a good feeling I would really dig this game because I have always vibed with Kojima’s work. Our brains just sync. I still wasn’t expecting to love this game the way I did. It’s methodical and satisfying in ways I’ve rarely experienced. The performances are extraordinary. Higgs is one of my favorite ever villains. The musical cues are phenomenal. This is pure, unfiltered Kojima and I loved every second. In a time where our leaders are failing and looking to be as awful and divisive as ever, Kojima gives us art whose sole purpose is to bring people together. It is literally about reconnecting the world. The multiplayer aspects are revolutionary. It’s a game that continues to give me hope in this bleak world. It just may be my favorite game ever created.

That’s a wrap on the generation. I’ll probably return to poetry for the near future but at some point in either December or January I’ll begin my best of year lists. Until next week, love each other.