On doubles, haunted spaces, memory, and grief in Twin Peaks, Possession, and Vertigo Read More
The films of David Lynch are strange creatures, not unlike the strange creatures that often appear within them, but to focus only on the most ungainly of their appendages is to willfully ignore their equally beautiful qualities. Read More
Like the absurdists, David Lynch brings us to the void to remind us it’s there—and to invite us to laugh into it. Read More
So prominent is the problem of whether and how to explain Mulholland Drive, that nearly any attempt to interpret the film ends up using the film to debate interpretation. Read More
As a season, Twin Peaks: The Return contains itself; it answers its own questions and then undoes its entirety. Read More
Blue Velvet's darkness and degeneracy and Oedipal weirdness serve a bigger and more beautiful story; a story about love, coming of age, redemption, hope. Read More
Had the lives of these two men gone differently, we would be awash in a stranger, more inexplicable type of American movie. Read More
Lynch is interested not only in story, but in the material aspects of film and their effect on the viewer; in sound, space, and time, and in what happens when these aspects of the cinematic experience assert their materiality rather than subsuming themselves to realism. Read More
The true sense of watching a David Lynch film is a triangulation between Lynch, the work, and you, beams of light passing between the three corners, illuminating something that wasn’t there before and that no one else can see. Read More
David Lynch uses diegetic music in unsettling, absurd ways, amplifying horror by usurping it. Read More