The Life and Legacy of David Lynch – Part 2

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As a devoted admirer of David Lynch, I feel compelled to share my thoughts on his extraordinary legacy, which continues to bewitch us even after he’s departed from this world. In a recent conversation with Matthew Kalil, a dedicated student and apprentice of Lynch since the tender age of 13, we delved deeper into the enigmatic universe that David created.

Matthew, who has taught screenwriting at the esteemed David Lynch Film School in Iowa for four years and is also the author of The Three Wells of Screenwriting, offered unique perspectives on this cinematic genius. Let’s explore the fascinating insights we uncovered during our captivating discussion, as we continue to celebrate the indelible mark that David Lynch left on cinema.

I watched a documentary called The Art Life… and it’s all about David Lynch and his process. And what a fascinating life. And just so authentic as well, because he’s not playing for someone else.

It’s clear he stays true to himself in every aspect, fully committed. He immerses himself entirely in the life of an artist, which serves as a beacon for many. Unlike some who might take breaks when not working on films, he was consistently producing art. Every day held some form of creative endeavor, leading him eventually to explore music, a long-held interest. I admire his ability to seamlessly blend the realms of cinema and television, as he so skillfully did.

He sought some assistance with managing the television. Mark Frost joined forces with him in scripting the initial two seasons of Twin Peaks, and in a way, guided him through the intricacies of television production.

However, in the third season of Twin Peaks, he seemed to abandon that concept entirely and declared, “I’m going to create 18-hour long films instead. I’m going to force you to watch them, disregarding television structure completely. It’s fantastic. Extremely liberating.

I really appreciated that. And I think you were the first one to say to me that this is actually just a really long film. And what they’ve done is glued it together by just having a sort of exit and intro with the bar where music plays.

If you were to remove certain scenes, I imagine it would result in a single 18-hour movie. This lengthy film could be likened to a spiritual journey, given its monstrous nature, yet it’s captivating due to the vivid visions, mood, and eccentric characters it presents. The director seamlessly transitions between genres, making you laugh at the absurd one moment, then sending shivers down your spine in the next.

What made Twin Peaks stand out during its early days was that it broke new ground by seamlessly blending genres, incorporating humor at times but also delivering intense horror.

Indeed, I completely agree with you. It’s fascinating, isn’t it, the way we play mental games and enjoy them? It’s amusing because, as you might have noticed, I was actually glancing at my phone trying to find… I sketched some images of David during our Zoom conversations when he speaks to students. Plus, I jot down little quips of his words… just quick wit remarks. And it seems like you’re referring to how Twin Peaks seasons 3, and even seasons 1 and 2, are such a captivating mix, offering a wide spectrum of feelings from fear and laughter to many other emotions that we encounter.

In simpler terms, when someone inquired about the key lessons they should draw from your upcoming course, you responded by stating that the primary message you’d like students to grasp is to enjoy themselves and find happiness. I believe this captures the essence of your response quite well.

As a cinema enthusiast, I’d say: During his creative process, nothing made me happier. Truly, I was a content individual. However, prior to practicing Transcendental Meditation, I felt far from happiness. He often described this as a constricting clown suit of negativity that surrounded him. This heavy rubber suit of negativity influenced everything around me.

When he meditated, he discovered a means to shed off that oppressive cloak of negativity. In his initial full-length film production during the time of Eraserhead, he faced significant challenges. However, I believe that meditation provided him with some relief and uplifted him.

Despite the fact that his subject matter often delves into deep, gloomy territories, suggesting a hint of depression in his work, he was far from being a pessimistic individual. Quite the contrary.

I remember watching his masterclass and his analogy about the fish and the idea. And what I really appreciate about him is that I think he did a lot of his work through raw intuition. And it wasn’t like there was this fixed kind of structure. I mean, he did say, you need 70 ideas to kind of put together a film scenes.

In terms of how he collaborated with his team, it seemed like he was striving for an authentic, spontaneous chemistry. He also demonstrated flexibility, adapting to his vision while still being open to improving the work.

He was highly receptive to coincidental events on the set, and if anything occurred that seemed significant at that particular time, he would be mindful and fully engaged, likely going with the flow. However, he also maintained a distinct perspective as he had a clear idea of how things should unfold.

What struck me as both inspiring and somewhat daunting was his ability to visualize scenes mentally, then recreate them on set with extensive production design, lighting, and resources. It’s impressive how he managed to translate his mental images into what we see on the screen.

He stood firm in his convictions, which is truly remarkable. As a filmmaker myself, I can relate as compromises are frequent in our field, or they have been for me personally. It’s fascinating to consider that he had a clear vision and managed to bring it to life on the screen. For me, emulating that requires resources that are currently out of reach – in my case, substantial funding is needed to translate my ideas into reality.

As a cinephile, let me express my thoughts: He pulled it off without a doubt, and I suspect there was some give-and-take, but frankly, I’m not convinced he needed it. Unlike Stanley Kubrick, who would relentlessly push his actors to the brink – I’ve heard tales of him filming Tom Cruise walking through a door up to 80 times! But this director, in my opinion, pushes people in a different way, not as intensely or exhaustively.

Instead of simply stating that David Lynch often took multiple takes and was sometimes demanding, let’s emphasize his dedication and the positive impact he had on those who worked with him:

David Lynch was known for his relentless pursuit of perfection, often filming numerous takes to capture his unique visions. While some might view this as a sign of compromise or even frustration, it was clear that he was deeply committed to his work. A quick online search will reveal stories of David throwing fits on set, but these moments are outweighed by the admiration and respect he earned from those in the industry. In fact, it’s rare to find anyone with a bad word to say about him, a testament to his talent and professionalism as a director. Working with Lynch was an incredible experience that left everyone eager to collaborate with him again.

It did seem as though he had a very collaborative spirit. And one of the other things that I really admire about him, even though it was uncompromising in terms of his personal vision, was that he was also very resourceful and creative. Because I remember the one story about how his budget, or I can’t remember the controller’s name for it, but he was on David’s case because there had been rain and a scene had been delayed and they needed to pick it up and get moving. And so his creative solution to this rain affecting play was to have two guys basically in the background of the scene, this is Lost Highway, among the puddles where the rain had happened, to have them basically with hoses spraying each other in the background.

To be honest, the thought crossed my mind that was quite cleverly done. Now we’re clear on its origin – water. Plus, it’s peculiar enough to remind me a bit of David Lynch’s style. I must admit, I truly admire it. There’s an undercurrent of humor there. It somehow makes me think of the quirky background elements in “The Naked Gun”, though I don’t mean to suggest it was meant for laughter… it’s more like a strange occurrence taking place in the backdrop instead.

To summarize, it seems he possessed a blend of practical wisdom and creativity, but his determination wasn’t so rigid that it hindered our project. He wasn’t academically inclined either, which added to the surprise factor.

In no way was he a reader; he rarely delved into books, perhaps on occasion, but when asked about his favorite, he’d consistently name the same titles. Interestingly, he had a similar approach with the garden hose, though it aligns with the opening scene of “Blue Velvet,” where a man is found dead, and a dog is seen attacking water from a hosepipe.

In “The Straight Story,” I come across a scene where a young character is playing with a garden hose, and in “Lost Highway,” there’s also a hosepipe. This connection seems intentional, as it helps me visualize the protagonist reminiscing about this ordinary object, which triggers a chain of memories associated with his fixations.

He exhibits an unusually high level of fixation on certain topics. While I’m not qualified to make diagnoses, it seems clear that he falls within the spectrum associated with OCD, or a similar pattern. This obsession is evident in the recurring themes found throughout his work.

Initially, they draw you in, making you fascinated with them. Then, you begin to spot their presence in his art. I believe he had a very natural approach to creating. However, when you mentioned ‘hosepipe’, it clicked – it seems fitting for his style of work.

As a film enthusiast, it’s easy to understand why that particular scene resonated with him. There’s no shortage of books dissecting the work of David Lynch. You’ve got your Freudians, your Jungians, and every other school of analysis out there, each offering their unique insights.

He deliberately doesn’t have knowledge from that particular perspective, as I don’t believe he has ever read Freud or Jung. However, since he genuinely acts within human experiences on Earth, he unconsciously begins to incorporate concepts like the id and superego into his work.

After that, feel free to employ those cognitive resources to interpret his pieces. However, it’s important to note that he doesn’t quite reach the intellectual depth of a filmmaker like Kubrick, who, despite not having formal academic education post-school, carries a certain level of intellectualism.

In my opinion, they’re incredibly alike. Here’s an interesting tidbit: David learned that Kubrick adored the film “Eraserhead“, and he was taken aback, saying something like, “Wow, I can hardly believe that Kubrick appreciates my art.” Without a doubt, they are both remarkable figures whose work will live on in our memories for eternity.

David is such a fascinating person as an individual. I remember, I was watching an interview where he’s talking to him and stumbled upon the fact that he has the same lunch every single day, which is a tuna salad.

1. He’s an intriguing individual, and I find his interviews incredibly engaging. His weather reports are equally captivating, revealing a raw creativity that is surprisingly down-to-earth. Despite the profound emotional and intellectual complexity in his work, it’s discussion-worthy, yet he maintains a strong connection to everyday life and finds even the simplest things fascinating. He doesn’t view himself as superior to others.

2. This man is remarkably interesting, and I always look forward to his interviews. His weather reports are no exception; they showcase an unexpected creativity that remains humble. Although his work boasts deep emotional and intellectual layers, it’s worth exploring, but he stays grounded in the everyday, finding even the ordinary captivating. He doesn’t consider himself superior to anyone else.

3. He’s a truly intriguing figure, and I find his interviews incredibly engaging. His weather reports are equally enthralling, unveiling an understated creativity that keeps things real. Regardless of the profound emotional and intellectual depth in his work, it’s worth delving into, yet he maintains a strong connection to the simple aspects of life, finding even the ordinary fascinating. He doesn’t think highly of himself compared to others.

4. This man is quite intriguing, and I enjoy both his interviews and weather reports. They reveal an understated creativity that remains unassuming. Despite the rich emotional and intellectual dimensions in his work, it’s worth examining further, but he stays grounded in day-to-day life, finding even the ordinary captivating. He doesn’t see himself as superior to others.

5. This man is fascinating, and I find both his interviews and weather reports intriguing. They showcase a subtle creativity that remains modest. Regardless of the deep emotional and intellectual layers in his work, it’s worth investigating more, yet he maintains a strong connection to everyday life, finding even the ordinary intriguing. He doesn’t consider himself superior to others.

He’s not, not, never going to change. Woodworking is a significant passion for him, something he truly enjoys. The intricacies of creating a chair or similar pieces can be captivating. You might find yourself drawn in by the process. As for David, he’s currently crafting items for his YouTube channel. It’s interesting to see how he focuses on small, seemingly random projects, such as phone holders. However, once he starts delving into the mechanics of these simple contraptions, it’s almost like watching a skilled artisan at work.

Yeah, surprising modesty, I think is maybe also another word because he is so revered and so well-respected and admired and lauded with praise that most other directors and directors, you know, they do tend to have some ego would kind of skyrockets through that and Muhammad Ali the whole thing. But for David, it just seemed as though he was happy just being able to carry on working. I mean, like, honestly, that just seemed as though, oh, great, I get to make another film or I can release the soundtrack of this album. What a gift. And that was his attitude. It was like this cheerful, what a dream I’m living.

Indeed, his cherished dream revolved around expressing himself as an artist in every aspect of life. He found joy in capturing moments, such as filming a bug’s journey across his windowsill, and transforming these instances into artistic pieces. His creative process was continuous and unending.

It was quite amazing. What I also found is that he’s a master of being able to take something and completely re-engineer it, something simple and use sound and visuals in a way that they conflict and contrast so beautifully that it completely changes the meaning of both as they intermingle. I tried doing something similar where I just had this video of people mowing their lawns and then I found some music from Twin Peaks and it’s like a dream-like sequence now – inspired by Lynch. But, you know, he’s been such a huge inspiration to so many filmmakers and budding filmmakers.

He currently possesses a unique atmosphere and style, which students consistently attempt to emulate. However, unfortunately, their work may mimic the style, yet lacks the genuine “Lynchian” quality or authenticity that David Lynch’s own creations possess. It seems similar, but something is missing.

It’s like an organic intuition and there’s a dream logic to it as well because he has a film that has structure to it, but it’s like a dream logic is the kind of phrase I think of because it’s still operating according to some rules. And that’s what you’re talking about with the hose earlier. There are recurring themes, just like dreams.

In multiple dreams, you might encounter the same item or situation. It’s as if there’s a shared dreamscape akin to David Lynch’s universe where characters from different films intermingle. For instance, imagine a character from Mulholland Drive walking into Lost Highway, but this wouldn’t significantly alter the narrative because all his works share similar atmospheres. Another example could be the man from Winky’s Cafe appearing in The Straight Story.

Experiencing that could feel quite unexpected or disconcerting. The scene at Winkie’s Diner in Mulholland Drive, for instance, is one of those moments that sticks out as bizarre even among other films’ scenes. It’s definitely recommended to watch it.

What are some of your favourite moments from across the spectrum?

So many. Sure. Wow. I’m stumped now.

Yeah, it does work like that.

I have plenty of thoughts on this subject. To be honest, I find myself a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of instances where he incorporates stars in his films. It seems that he is captivated by the cosmos and the universe in general. The way he uses stars in movies like Dune and possibly The Elephant Man feels as though he’s trying to evoke a higher state of consciousness through those shots. I really appreciate those moments, they always leave me feeling uplifted. However, there are just so many instances where he uses stars that it’s hard to keep track.

I really appreciate the unusual and eccentric quality of singing in Blue Velvet, without a doubt. To be frank, there are parts of it that I can’t bear to watch. Specifically, when Frank interacts with Dorothy in certain scenes from Blue Velvet, I find myself saying ‘no’ repeatedly because it’s just too intense for me. It’s almost like it touches something deep within me physically.

It’s fascinating that at times, his work seems to resonate deeply within us, similar to when specific body areas like the gut are affected. If you accept concepts such as chakras, it feels akin to those bodily regions being stimulated. Occasionally it can be enjoyable, but also unsettling. Choosing a single instance is challenging due to the abundance of such moments.

One memorable moment from David Lynch’s work that I enjoy is when Agent Cooper encounters a roadblock in solving the mystery during the first season of Twin Peaks. In desperation, he gathers all the detectives and leads them to a wooded area. There, he reveals a whiteboard with a map of Tibet, suggesting that the answer to their conundrum might be found there.

He declares, “This is Tibet,” and proceeds to discuss spiritual ideas he learned there. Their names are recorded on a list as potential suspects. Later, he picks up a stone and attempts to break a bottle with it. It’s quite intriguing.

This method is reminiscent of a detective’s intuitive approach, relying on luck, physical clues, and subconscious memories. And yet, despite its absurdity, it’s utterly captivating. There’s an element of humor too, stemming from the peculiarities of the scene.

What’s amusing is how the sequence unfolds from these odd cops performing comedic antics, such as eating doughnuts while standing around. Then, when they attempt to knock over a bottle, an eerie tune plays and you find yourself saying, “whoa, yes, we hit the bottle.” It’s impressive because it encompasses the entire range of his work, and I was likely around 21 at the time I first saw this scene. Consequently, it left a lasting impression on me.

Yeah. It’s like a David Lynch capsule.

Indeed, it seems so intriguing because it addresses his spiritual side. It’s a blend of various genres, incorporating the irrational, the frightening, and the ominous. Perhaps that’s what makes it exceptional – its ability to encapsulate all aspects.

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2025-01-23 12:44