Blue Velvet

I have read a lot of different pieces in a lot of different places that basically say Blue Velvet has a "surreal menace," or something to that effect. That is a pretty succinct and accurate summary of the movie. There are not any explicitly supernatural elements, the kinds that pop up in other Lynch work, but there is a nightmare logic to the whole film and also to the characters and events. It's not that Frank Booth could never exist in the real world. It's just that he seems to be unstoppable. In fact, the whole thing is like a nightmare that is terrifying for its plausibility. Everything is hazy, heightened, but not outside the realm of possibility. As much as I love David Lynch when he goes for full-on surrealism, this might be him at his most terrifying. 

And yet, as a viewing experience, it was not as disturbing as I thought it would be. I think this is the main reason I avoided it for so long, because I thought watching it might leave me disgusted. Definitely an uncomfortable watch, because it's ugly and challenging and shows suffering, particularly of a woman at the hands of a psychotic man. But at the same time it's so atmospheric and immersive, and the character we view as the clean cut hero is, deep down, anything but. So, complex. It walks a fine line; it's provocative, but not for its own sake. It is art because it has something to say, even if you don't like it. Blue Velvet shocked me but did not offend me. After everything it portrays, there is an ending that is anything but nihilistic. It is not exploitative, but it's almost as if Lynch is daring you to think it is. Perhaps everything I've written here just proves that the feelings a great film evokes are difficult to put into words. Also, the use of music and the scenes that feature these songs are some of the most haunting and effective. "In Dreams" even more so than "Blue Velvet."

David Lynch

I watched Twin Peaks: The Return shortly after it was released on DVD at the end of 2017. As a fan of the original series who, for some reason, had not watched any of David Lynch's films at that time, I was in awe of the series, which felt like a project with little to no interference from producers or the network, etc. A fully realized artistic vision, I thought. It's been too long now since I've seen it for me to write about it intelligently. But there was just this feeling that Lynch was finally able to explore this universe unfettered. It probably is self-indulgent in places, it certainly drags and tests one's patience in places, but overall the magnificent moments outweigh any of those concerns. It certainly has one of the most harrowing and yet oddly satisfying final scenes. (Mild spoiler alert). Nothing is solved. Nothing is solved, everything is still broken, chaos reigns. Unlike so much of David Lynch content (which I have to think about, feel, sit with), that I got right away. It just hits you and you get it right away. And the chills you feel are this weird combination of dread but also pleasure at how he nails the ending in the most Lynchian way possible. 

Anyway, all this is to say that since Lynch's recent death, I have watched four of his films that I had never seen before, and this brings the grand total of Lynch films that I have seen to six, plus all of Twin Peaks. I'm working on it. And sometimes it does feel like work. Four films to go. I thought I would write briefly about three of the films I recently saw for the first time. I am going to write a separate post on Blue Velvet, which of the four I saw was the biggest revelation for me, and the film I think is the most successful (although they're all successful).

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me 

I can only imagine unprepared Twin Peaks fans in 1992 going to see this film without any exposure to David Lynch's other work. As long as you go in knowing that this film is a lot bleaker and a lot less quirky than the show, you'll probably be okay. There's all the dark stuff here without much Agent Cooper or James or the Log Lady and none of the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department, i.e. the good guys who provided some kind of light and comfort in Twin Peaks world. That lighter tone is not here, very purposefully I think. I guess almost all Lynch films are nightmares, this one included. Sheryl Lee is great and was more than capable of carrying the entire film. She should have had a more successful career. Just the look of horror on her face (never mind her screams) is so expressive and convincing. I don't know how she does it. A harrowing but pretty incredible final fifteen minutes. The final scene is an interesting contrast to the final scene of The Return. It's pretty dark stuff, but feels essential to the greater Laura Palmer story.

Eraserhead

What a surprise: it’s basically pure nightmare, and for added resonance, I held a squirming baby while watching it. It really does capture the horrors of new parenthood (without including any of the joy). The not being able to sleep rang especially true. And there's so much here that is echoed and expanded upon in his later work. Imagery and themes. I'm not sure what kind of re-watch value it has for me personally, but it's hard to think of a more Lynchian feature-film debut than this. One thing I like about David Lynch is that in the moment a lot of it doesn't make sense to me, but I am never able to simply dismiss any of it. In Eraserhead specifically I'm thinking of the pencil-making scene. The longer I think about it (and I always do with David Lynch), the more it starts to kinda sorta make sense. Not only does the title of the film come from this scene (I thought at first it was only because Henry's head looks like an eraser), but eventually you realize that the old pencils are being used to make new pencils, and maybe that's some kind of metaphor for parents and children and life. Not that Lynch would ever tell you what anything "means". The surrealism draws us in, makes us scratch our head, and then we realize that what's underneath it all is something we are very capable of understanding. 

Lost Highway 

So many memorable and even iconic scenes. I'm thinking of any scene with Robert Blake. He's a real highlight. A classic David Lynch grotesque character. I felt the slowness more than I have previously with David Lynch films. What I probably need to do is watch it again. The scene where he says "I'm there right now" just works so well, even out of context on YouTube (which is where I first viewed it). And if you watch this scene enough times (I always need to watch a scene more than once to notice much of anything) you start to see how the dialogue, the actor's line delivery (and his look), the sound design, and Bill Pullman's reaction in this scene all combine to make for such an unsettling experience. I started to kind of figure out exactly why I was so unsettled, beyond just knowing that I was. Maybe that sounds pretentious, but it's not always an easy thing, figuring out why a Lynch scene makes you uncomfortable! There is a lot more to the film than just Robert Blake of course, but it's also hard to discuss without spoiling, and I feel myself running out of steam. If you're into Lynch, I think probably all Lynch is necessary Lynch, even if it isn't all equally resonant to all viewers. With the possible exception of Dune, although I'm even happy I saw that one.