Tag: the straight story

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 #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.