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| Portrait of David Lynch by Debs (2025) |
I’ve always loved movies and TV. Always. From a kid, those first trips to the cinema, or my parents introducing me to movies and series on the TV. I love them. I used to keep a list taped to my wardrobe door of movies I’d seen and even started ticking off how many times I’d seen Star Wars or Tron. Friday nights we’d rent movies from local video store and a group of friends would come ‘round and we’d watch the latest releases.
One week we rented DUNE (yes, I’m using all-caps, it seems more apt). It was awesome, and visually stunning. I hadn’t read the books, and the rest of my D&D group who watched it with me kept pointing out how it was different to the novels, but I didn’t care. It looked amazing, I was baffled by some of it, but visually and audibly it was mind-blowing (and speaker-blowing too - I remember the bass notes of the movie were a little more than our old TV could handle).
Years passed, and I continued my obsession with movies, renting the strangely terrifying and hauntingly dark Blue Velvet. And wow, it was dark. Really sinister goings on there, but the lead was the guy from Dune, and he was such a wholesome, small-town innocent, I just kinda related to Kyle MacLachlan’s character, Jeffrey. I was intrigued, and kept a lookout for Kyle in other movies (The Hidden is brilliant, and I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it).
Most of the D&D group had gone off to University or moved away, and I spent most of my weekends renting movies from the video store(s) and bingeing horror movies. So much so, I’d watched most of the movies they had on the shelves and struggled to find stuff to watch - after all 50p rental for a weekend, it was glorious. I noticed a new title on the shelves called Twin Peaks, read the back and saw that it was by David Lynch and had Kyle MacLachlan in it, I scooped it up and put it straight on the top of that weekend’s movies to watch.
It was weird, and dreamlike - and lingered uncomfortably long on some of the emotional scenes, but there was Special Agent Dale Cooper in the middle of all this weird, taking it in his stride, with a whistle, a smile, and a thumbs up, he was going to solve this case. But what really blew my mind was the ending. Sure, I’d later discover this wasn’t really the ending - it was a re-edited version for VHS release with an extra conclusion that wrapped things up - but the final scenes, which were used as the dream sequence in the series’ Episode 2, just left my jaw open and I was shocked. This was amazing and unlike anything I’d seen. I was obsessed.
Who is the Dreamer?
Completely and utterly obsessed. When I flicked through my parents’ Radio Times and it announced the arrival of the TV series of Twin Peaks in the UK, I bought a pack of blank VHS tapes and sat, waiting, every Tuesday night, for Alan Bennett to finish his programme before Twin Peaks aired on BBC2. Fingers hovering over the record button, so I could rewatch each episode multiple times to really absorb what was going on.
I bought the books, the soundtrack, wore a trench coat like Cooper, got a Dictaphone, and even expanded on the relationship map that was in that issue of the Radio Times for one of my art school projects.
Obsessed. I followed everything David Lynch did, catching up on projects I’d not seen. It was an obsession and a love of everything Lynch worked on. There was a perfect surreal nature, a dreamlike quality, and an unpredictability that left me enthralled. There’s always a moment that I love when watching something and I hear myself say “I have no idea where this is going”. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s a sign that it’s something that’ll stay with me long after the initial viewing.
When Twin Peaks returned twenty-five years (plus) later, Lynch really embraced his art life and did whatever he wanted to do - taking his and Mark Frost’s scripts and just ‘going with it’, And that’s just powerful. If ever I think “What I’m doing isn’t commercial” or “No one’s going to like this” I just think of Twin Peaks: The Return (Episode 8). It’s absolutely genius. The narrative progresses, there’s a great musical interlude with (The) Nine Inch Nails, and then there’s an extended atomic explosion scene, the opera house, the ‘Gotta Light?’ sequence, and more. It’s genius, and not what you’d expect from prime time television, even in this age of experimenting with the format of TV.
Thanks to David Lynch, if ever I’m unsure of what I’m doing or creating, I ask myself if I’m enjoying what I’m creating, or if I’m just making something because I think it’ll sell.
I Read the News Today, Oh Boy…
Sat in a gaming cafe, talking to local game creators about what they were working on, I noticed a message had arrived on my phone. A friend of mine who knew how much I admired and loved David Lynch had messaged to tell me the news.
I was shocked, and felt that initial gut punch but carried on as best I could at the meeting. It wasn’t until later that it really sank in. I loved everything David Lynch produced. He worked with so many others that I admire, like David Bowie and Trent Reznor, who also don’t compromise in their creative visions. Created my favourite TV series (which lead me to discover my other favourite series, The X-Files - both hold that No. 1 spot jointly in my head). Showed us how meditation can calm the mind, free us from the rubber clown suit of negativity. Introduced meditation to schools. Showed us how we could all be creative, how we are all one, and if we only realised we’re all the same we could finally have peace.
My awesome wife, Debs, drew the fantastic picture that started this post, and I had to write something about how inspiring David Lynch is, and always will be.
I can only aspire to have a fraction of his talent. But his inspiration will always be there, and keeps driving me on.
Thank you, Mr Lynch. The driver has left the car, but continues on.
