In the iconic pilot episode of Twin Peaks, viewers are initially drawn into the mundane routines of high school life: a girl sneaking a cigarette, a boy summoned to the principal’s office, and a teacher taking attendance. The tranquility is abruptly shattered when a police officer enters the classroom and whispers to the teacher. A scream pierces the air, and outside, a student is seen running across the courtyard. The teacher struggles to hold back tears as the class braces for an announcement. The camera then lingers on an empty seat, and two students exchange a knowing glance, realizing their friend Laura Palmer is dead.
David Lynch excels at capturing the veneer of everyday life, only to peel it back and reveal the unsettling undercurrents that lie beneath. This scene from Twin Peaks epitomizes his thematic focus throughout his career, yet it's just one of many defining moments fans might cite. Over his 40-plus years of creating movies, TV shows, and art, Lynch's work has resonated differently with each admirer. For some, it's the eerie, dream-like atmosphere that defines the "Lynchian" experience, a term that encapsulates the unique, unnerving quality of his storytelling.
The passing of such a singular artist is deeply felt by fans, as Lynch's appeal was as varied as his oeuvre. The term "Lynchian" has joined the ranks of adjectives like "Kafkaesque," used to describe experiences that are disorienting and unsettling, transcending the specifics of his work to become a broader cultural phenomenon.
For budding film enthusiasts, watching Lynch's midnight classic Eraserhead was a rite of passage. This tradition continues, as evidenced by the author's teenage son and his girlfriend, who independently started binge-watching Twin Peaks, reaching the Windom Earle era of Season 2.
Lynch's work possesses a timeless quality, blending the odd and the familiar. This is evident in Twin Peaks: The Return (2017), where a child's bedroom evokes the aesthetic of 1956, yet exists within a universe filled with otherworldly clones and violence. Despite Hollywood's trend of reviving nostalgia, Lynch crafted The Return in his unique style, defying expectations by not reintroducing key original characters in a conventional manner.
When Lynch ventured into mainstream Hollywood with Dune, the result was a notorious misfire, yet unmistakably his own. His struggle with the project is detailed in Max Evry's book, A Masterpiece in Disarray. Even in Dune, Lynch's signature bizarre imagery, like the cat/rat milking machine, stands out.
Lynch's ability to create beauty from the strange and disturbing is evident in The Elephant Man, a film that, while close to Oscar bait, remains a touching and poignant portrayal of a gentle soul in a harsh world. This too is "Lynchian," reflecting his knack for blending darkness with beauty.
Attempting to categorize Lynch's work into genres or tropes is futile, yet his distinctive style is instantly recognizable. His films and TV shows delve into a world beneath the surface, often literally pulling back curtains to reveal hidden truths. Blue Velvet exemplifies this, with its noir narrative set against a backdrop of mid-century Americana, exposing the sinister underbelly of suburban life.
Lynch's influence spans generations of filmmakers. From Jane Schoenbrun's I Saw The TV Glow, which draws directly from Twin Peaks, to Yorgos Lanthimos' The Lobster and Robert Eggers' The Lighthouse, the "Lynchian" influence is evident. Other notable films like David Robert Mitchell's It Follows and Under the Silver Lake, Emerald Fennell's Saltburn, Richard Kelly's Donnie Darko, and Rose Glass's Love Lies Bleeding all reflect his impact. Even Quentin Tarantino and Denis Villeneuve have paid homage to Lynch in their works.
While David Lynch may not be everyone's favorite filmmaker, his legacy as a visionary who pushed the boundaries of cinema is undeniable. His work continues to inspire a new generation of filmmakers to look beneath the surface and explore the "Lynchian" elements that lurk there.
