David Lynch (1946-2025)

[Finch]

If it wasn't for the French, he'd have struggled even more to get anything made, going back as far as the early 90s. Wasn't everything from FWWM onwards financed by the French (with the exception of the Mulholland Drive TV pilot edit and The Return)? Blue Velvet was DeLaurentiis, another European.

[aox]

I have never been enamored by his work. I suppose The Elephant Man is probably my favorite (I can get through MDrive), but that is probably the embarrassingly safe selection among Lynch fans. I haven't seen Wild at Heart, Straight Story, or Inland Empire.

But, he was such an endearing and wonderful human being. I loved when he showed up on social media or in the news about nothing in particular. The 20 hours of the podcast, Blank Check's Lynch retrospective is great, and I have to imagine amazing if you like Lynch.

Finally, his cameo at the end of the Fablemans is one of my favorite things ever: here

[hearthesilence]

It's pretty amazing to see everyone who's worked with him posting wonderful tributes. Cast members (just look up the Instagram account of anyone who's been in Twin Peaks or his other films) to collaborators like Frederick Elmes to mutual admirers like Questlove, Karen O and Patti Smith.

Honestly, I haven't felt this way since Prince and David Bowie where an artist that meant this much to me seemed to abruptly pass away when the promise of more work was very much there. Bowie seemed to get better and better over the course of four surprising albums (albeit with a decade between the second and third), and in Prince's case, I was relieved he survived the health scare that forced an emergency landing, just as Lynch's evacuation seemed cause for relief, but here we are. This month is only getting shittier.

[hearthesilence]

Very sad to hear that David Lynch passed away.

I can't say that we ever hung out together at his favorite hang, Bob's Big Boy in Toluca Lake, but for a couple of years, around 1989/90, I did guitar work for him on a few of his projects. I played some background guitar for his Twin Peaks TV show as well as on a song he produced for the late vocalist, Julee Cruise. The most interesting stuff I did with him, though, was for the soundtrack of a film that wound up never getting made.

His storyline involved (and I ain't joking) a dwarf blues guitar player in early 1950s Chicago who is also an extraterrestrial from outer space. Mr Lynch and I did three sessions where he would describe a series of abstract images to me then ask me to create some sonic landscapes to enhance the images.

One of my favorites of Mr Lynch's scene descriptions was: "Now, Dave, imagine an old conveyor belt full of liquid metal. The conveyor belt with the liquid metal then travels into these gigantic, antiquated, rusty machines where this liquid metal experiences some sort of loud, transmogrifying process inside the machines that turns the liquid metal into beautiful sparks of wild electricity. And please make it sound like Muddy Waters but also don't make it sound like Muddy Waters."

Along with drummer Stephen Hodges and bassist Don Falzone, I came up with something that sounded like a cross between Muddy Waters, Bitches Brew-era Miles Davis and The Cramps.

Mr Lynch loved it. Needless to say, I wish I had tapes of those sessions and, damn, I wish that movie had been made.

[Peacock]

My second hand Lynch story involves an actor called Malcolm Jamieson co-star of the godawful Cannon film Meridian and various 80s British tv shows.

He was in some small demand in the 80s, offered the leading role in The Draughtsman’s Contract which he turned down for a better paying tv show etc. He was in Cannes during the 80s and was told by his agent that Lynch was also there and wanted to meet him to discuss a starring role in his upcoming film Dune.

A time was arranged and Jamieson went to a particular hotel lobby to meet him. They shook hands and made their n introductions, they sat down at a table for a casual chat when Lynch mentioned recently fathering a son. Jamieson congratulated him. Lynch asked if he would like to see a picture of his baby. Jamieson agreed and then Lynch quickly shoved a photograph from his pocket in his face. It was a colour close up photo of his son seconds after delivery, covered in afterbirth and blood and screaming. Jamieson recoiled in shock for a split second not expecting that kind of baby photo before composing himself. Lynch was watching him closely the entire time. Jamieson said “Very nice…”.

They chatted for a bit more before going their separate ways. He didn’t get the part. Jamieson always felt like Lynch was using that bloody photograph as the real audition and that he had failed the test.

[MichaelB]

Very sad and sadly he went before Mel Brooks who interestingly saw something in him after watching Eraserhead, giving Lynch the go ahead for the Elephant Man.

It cannot be exaggerated how pivotal Mel Brooks was not just to the success of that film but also to Lynch's career, catapulting him almost overnight from the avant-garde to the heart of the Hollywood mainstream - though it didn't win any Oscars, it scored eight nominations, including one for Lynch personally.

It wasn't Brooks's idea to hire Lynch (it was executive producer Stuart Cornfeld who recommended that producer Jonathan Sanger watch Eraserhead), but he did have to greenlight the decision, and many production company bosses would simply have said no - for one thing, Lynch had absolutely no professional filmmaking experience, and I don't think he'd even so much as set foot on a proper film set. (Eraserhead, for all its gargantuan artistic merit, was essentially a very, very ambitious student film.) So it was a pretty whopping gamble on Brooks's part, but he clearly felt that the talent on display in Eraserhead was so exceptional that it was worth the risk.

Another risky decision was hiring Freddie Francis as DOP - normally, an Oscar-winning cinematographer would have been an obvious asset, but in Francis's case he hadn't lit a film in something like fifteen years. But Lynch wanted him, and Brooks went with his gut again. (Francis loved working with Lynch so much that he agreed to do Dune, even though big-budget VFX-heavy sci-fi wasn't normally his sort of thing at all.)

Ditto approving the decision to shoot in black and white, over which Brooks personally rang the relevant people at the major US TV stations, pointing out that the then pretty recent Young Frankenstein was also in black and white and hadn't done too badly.

And I gather from Sanger's memoir of the shoot that Brooks was very tactful about the subject of hiring Anne Bancroft, telling Sanger and Lynch that she'd read the script, loved it and would very much like to play Mrs Kendal, but only if they felt that she'd be right. Fortunately (and correctly), they both agreed that she'd be absolutely perfect, so there were no diplomatic issues there.

[The Curious Sofa]

My second hand Lynch story involves an actor called Malcolm Jamieson co-star of the godawful Cannon film Meridian [...] .

I've never seen the film, but the VHS was always on display at video rental stores and the title immediately rang a bell because of a Lynch connection.

[colinr0380]

There is a good argument to be made that just as much as his comedy films Mel Brooks' biggest contribution to cinema is probably Brooksfilms producing both The Elephant Man and the David Cronenberg remake of The Fly (as well as that great version of the Burke and Hare grave robbers story: Freddie Francis' The Doctor and the Devils).

On David Lynch, I was starting to prepare myself a bit for this news after his lengthy Sight & Sound interview a few months back where he frankly mentioned his emphysema and being mostly housebound, but this was still quite a shock. Rather than going into the films I was mostly thinking of the moments going on in my life surrounding watching them. Dune is my favourite 'dark winter night' mood film, and I always love rewatching it from late October to Christmas Eve time. I have a few really specific incidents of watching Lynch's work that have stayed with me as formative moments: watching The Grandmother in the BBC's Weird Night in 1994 and being completely weirded out by its atmosphere and dialogue comprised of yelps and barks between the characters. A few years later I saw Eraserhead in Channel 4's "Cinema Extreme" season in 1997 and remember being so shaken by the last scenes that I had to go and talk to someone about it. Luckily my mother was still up and about and I remember being in tears but trying to explain the film, and that it was horrible but beautiful; upsetting but transcendent, and that whilst I was upset because of the horrific events that it was a 'good' cathartic kind of upset that only great art can induce. The kind of tears that prove you have a heart. Of course none of that came out properly articulated and I remember just sobbing but saying I was really OK whilst my mum was having none of it and thankfully brought me crashing back down to earth by grumpily saying "why the heck did you watch it if it was just going to mess you up that badly?"!

I also have an incredibly specific memory of being a kid in the early 90s just after my parents had gone to the ultimate extravagance of buying a second television for the house. Not because I was excited by the television but because I could use the big empty cardboard box it came in to put my computer magazines into. But before I put them in for some ungodly reason I just decided to jump in the box myself and ended up spending the night in my makeshift 'box fort' watching Mighty Mouse and an episode of Twin Peaks Season 2 (I know it was season 2 because it had David Duchovny's character in). I'd like to think that Lynch would have approved of that viewing experience!

Similarly one of the most embarassing faux pas of my life involved Wild At Heart, where my dad invited a co-worker who lived in another part of the country to stay the night because of some meeting they had to attend the next day, and whilst they were chatting I was setting up the VHS recorder in the living room to record a television screening of the film. Stupidly I thought I would just look at the first couple of minutes, and of course we all know about the ultraviolent opening of that film! So I quickly turned it off, but not until the head-floor-Laura Dern screaming fit moment occured. After that I looked around at the assembled parties in a guilty manner, apologised and ran out of the room! (Although my parents made their own faux pas with the same co-worker a little while later where they rented out David Fincher's Se7en under the impression that it would be less dark and depressing than it proved to be! Which somewhat evened the score and showed anyone can make a mistake with media! I still feel a bit sorry for that poor guy though in getting such horrors visited upon him every time he came to the house!)

[nowhereisaplace]

Very sad and sadly he went before Mel Brooks who interestingly saw something in him after watching Eraserhead, giving Lynch the go ahead for the Elephant Man.

It cannot be exaggerated how pivotal Mel Brooks was not just to the success of that film but also to Lynch's career, catapulting him almost overnight from the avant-garde to the heart of the Hollywood mainstream - though it didn't win any Oscars, it scored eight nominations, including one for Lynch personally.

It wasn't Brooks's idea to hire Lynch (it was executive producer Stuart Cornfeld who recommended that producer Jonathan Sanger watch Eraserhead), but he did have to greenlight the decision, and many production company bosses would simply have said no - for one thing, Lynch had absolutely no professional filmmaking experience, and I don't think he'd even so much as set foot on a proper film set. (Eraserhead, for all its gargantuan artistic merit, was essentially a very, very ambitious student film.) So it was a pretty whopping gamble on Brooks's part, but he clearly felt that the talent on display in Eraserhead was so exceptional that it was worth the risk.

Another risky decision was hiring Freddie Francis as DOP - normally, an Oscar-winning cinematographer would have been an obvious asset, but in Francis's case he hadn't lit a film in something like fifteen years. But Lynch wanted him, and Brooks went with his gut again. (Francis loved working with Lynch so much that he agreed to do Dune, even though big-budget VFX-heavy sci-fi wasn't normally his sort of thing at all.)

Ditto approving the decision to shoot in black and white, over which Brooks personally rang the relevant people at the major US TV stations, pointing out that the then pretty recent Young Frankenstein was also in black and white and hadn't done too badly.

And I gather from Sanger's memoir of the shoot that Brooks was very tactful about the subject of hiring Anne Bancroft, telling Sanger and Lynch that she'd read the script, loved it and would very much like to play Mrs Kendal, but only if they felt that she'd be right. Fortunately (and correctly), they both agreed that she'd be absolutely perfect, so there were no diplomatic issues there.

Very well said! I always admired the guts Mel Brooks displayed to go with Lynch, but reading through the reasons above raises that level. I wasn't aware of the story of Brooks calling stations and pointing out the Young Frankenstein success - that is great.

And regarding Freddie Francis, he would of course collaborate with Lynch one more time with The Straight Story - another beautiful film!

[mfunk9786]

Something I want to add that I doubt the obituaries will mention is what a terrific director of actors Lynch was. He had this ability to pull astonishing, notable performances out of actors who otherwise went on to do very little of note--and when he did work with an actor of the calibre of, say, Laura Dern, the results were transformative. He's genuinely one of the best actor directors to ever do it, although it's rarely remarked on just because his eccentric artistic vision kinda overwhelms everything else.

Rewatched three things yesterday: two episodes of Twin Peaks (“Gotta Light?” and “Pilot”), and Mulholland Dr. This applies to all of them of course, but that first episode of Twin Peaks isn’t the phenomenon it is if Lynch doesn’t empower every actor in it to inhabit a unique and singular characterization immediately. There is a very large ensemble being introduced one-by-one, but all the way down to (for instance) the tremendous performance of Troy Evans in his one scene as the school principal, everyone is telling you exactly who they are with astonishing economy of screen time. Lynch struck upon the rare combination of presenting those astonishing depths along with enough of a cartoonish set of quirks for each main player that you simply must continue watching the series by the end of episode one because you already completely understand this highly unusual tone, group of characters, and setting as though you always had. An extremely rare thing, perhaps the best television director in history and he barely directed any of it.

[beamish14]

Something I want to add that I doubt the obituaries will mention is what a terrific director of actors Lynch was. He had this ability to pull astonishing, notable performances out of actors who otherwise went on to do very little of note--and when he did work with an actor of the calibre of, say, Laura Dern, the results were transformative. He's genuinely one of the best actor directors to ever do it, although it's rarely remarked on just because his eccentric artistic vision kinda overwhelms everything else.

Rewatched three things yesterday: two episodes of Twin Peaks (“Gotta Light?” and “Pilot”), and Mulholland Dr. This applies to all of them of course, but that first episode of Twin Peaks isn’t the phenomenon it is if Lynch doesn’t empower every actor in it to inhabit a unique and singular characterization immediately. There is a very large ensemble being introduced one-by-one, but all the way down to (for instance) the tremendous performance of Troy Evans in his one scene as the school principal, everyone is telling you exactly who they are with astonishing economy of screen time. Lynch struck upon the rare combination of presenting those astonishing depths along with enough of a cartoonish set of quirks for each main player that you simply must continue watching the series by the end of episode one because you already completely understand this highly unusual tone, group of characters, and setting as though you always had. An extremely rare thing, perhaps the best television director in history and he barely directed any of it.

The scene with Troy Evans (one of the great character actors, and seemingly on every American sitcom during the 90’s for at least one episode) informing the school about Laura’s death via the PA system is one of the most powerful moments from any of Lynch’s works

[colinr0380]

Here's Mark Cousins' 1999 Scene by Scene interview with Lynch

[beamish14]

Lynch really deserves more kudos for initially distributing Inland Empire himself, even if the outcome wasn’t entirely successful. He really was great at turning himself into a brand, as his own blends of coffee at Whole Foods grocery stores demonstrated

[hearthesilence]

It cannot be exaggerated how pivotal Mel Brooks was not just to the success of that film but also to Lynch's career, catapulting him almost overnight from the avant-garde to the heart of the Hollywood mainstream - though it didn't win any Oscars, it scored eight nominations, including one for Lynch personally.

It wasn't Brooks's idea to hire Lynch (it was executive producer Stuart Cornfeld who recommended that producer Jonathan Sanger watch Eraserhead), but he did have to greenlight the decision, and many production company bosses would simply have said no - for one thing, Lynch had absolutely no professional filmmaking experience, and I don't think he'd even so much as set foot on a proper film set. (Eraserhead, for all its gargantuan artistic merit, was essentially a very, very ambitious student film.) So it was a pretty whopping gamble on Brooks's part, but he clearly felt that the talent on display in Eraserhead was so exceptional that it was worth the risk.

The obituary in The Hollywood Reporter made it clear how much of an obstacle this could be:

...at one point the mercurial [Anthony] Hopkins allegedly tried to have him fired. “Hopkins wasn’t openly hostile, but he was aloof,” remembered producer Jonathan Sanger, “and one day he called me into his dressing room and said, ‘Why is this guy getting to direct a movie? What has he done? He did one little movie. I don’t understand this.'”

Meanwhile, here's an obscure treat posted by the NYC Sanitation Department's social media accounts:

In 1991, David Lynch showed the world the alienation and innate horror of a dirty street, directing this unforgettable anti-littering ad for the City of New York.

RIP to a visionary filmmaker and a pioneer of the Trash Revolution.

And (translated) from Poland's biggest train and tram manufacturer:

Goodbye Master! David Lynch, a great director, a star of world cinema, and for us an enthusiast in love with railways, has passed away... He visited Pesa Bydgoszcz in 2012 during Camerimage... it was supposed to be a short visit, it was a long meeting ending with a test drive... that's how we will remember him..

[hearthesilence]

FWIW, Dave Alvin's post upthread was apparently about Ronnie Rocket!

[MichaelB]

To be fair to Hopkins, he did profusely apologise later.

[beamish14]

To be fair to Hopkins, he did profusely apologise later.

Hopkins also mentions Lynch’s influence on the commentary for his nightmarishly horrible directorial outing Slipstream

[beamish14]

FWIW, Dave Alvin's post upthread was apparently about Ronnie Rocket!

One of many tantalizing projects under development at Zoetrope circa 1979-1982, including Monte Hellman’s cocaine dealer thriller King of White Lady

[dadaistnun]

I feel like most of what I want to say would be an echo of what others have already posted, perhaps a sign of how profoundly his work affected us. His lack of cynicism went hand in hand with an earnestness that was easy for many people to mock. I find Sandy's description of her dream and its "blinding light of love" in Blue Velvet to be incredibly moving, coupled as it is with an instrumental version of "Mysteries of Love" and was genuinely, if naively, taken aback at the laughter that scene generated when I went to a screening in the late-'90s.

Regarding his work with actors, I recall an interview with Isabella Rossellini where she said the phrase he gave her as an entry into Dorothy's headspace was "The clouds are coming." He seems to have taken this approach a lot, not just with actors but musicians as well as in Badalamenti's description of how they collaborated on the Twin Peaks love theme, and his direction to Reggie Hamilton when working on the Thought Gang recordings (“Imagine you’re a chicken with your head cut off running around with a thousand bennies shoved down your throat!”). You can see some of this in the documentary features on The Return's Blu-ray where he's directing Sherilynn Fenn on how angry he wants her to play the scene. There's a lot of great material in those hours of extras. One particularly memorable bit has him directing the actor playing Ike the Spike on how to stab with an ice pick, mimicking the motions and saying something like "just drive that fucker right in there!" -- d.p. Peter Deming is standing in the background eating something and just sort of freezes mid-bite with a hilarious look on his face.

The first film of his I saw was The Elephant Man. I had a black & white tv in my room growing up and since I didn't like watching color movies on it I was excited that this fascinating sounding movie I read about in TV Guide was both new (-ish, I can't remember the exact year of this, but it was before we got cable in 1984) and in black and white. I don't remember much of anything about that viewing other than the opening sequence and the scene of Merrick's room being broken into.

After that, it was Blue Velvet on video, a fruitless hunt for Eraserhead at local video stores (no one had it, so I ordered a bootleg through the mail) and then quickly after that the premiere of Twin Peaks. And that was it, I was obsessed. That 1990-1992 period of Twin Peaks, Wild at Heart, On the Air, Hotel Room, and Fire Walk with Me was very instructive to me of how fickle tastes can be as he went from what at the time was probably his peak popularity (hit tv show, Palme d'or) to, in the media's view, someone who was too weird for his own good. Or worse, weird for the sake of being weird which strikes me as the bigger insult.

I didn't wholeheartedly love everything he did. Wild at Heart I find very abrasive if I'm not in the right mood. As brilliant and terrifying as Lost Highway is, I find some of his musical choices there questionable (though not the use of Lou Reed's cover of "This Magic Moment" which is wonderful). And I think the only time I ever enjoyed Dune was when I was completely stoned, so there's that.

I'm with those who think The Return might be the best thing he ever made. I'll never forget the thrill of watching it week to week over the summer of 2017, of genuinely not knowing what direction the show would take. And while of course I would have loved to seen more work from him, I can't imagine a better finale to his career.

Someone upthread compared Lynch's passing to that of Bowie. My wife said something similar over dinner last night: as with Bowie, it's hard to imagine living in a world without him anymore.

[swo17]

Coincidentally, my favorite Lynch thing would be the opening credits to Lost Highway played on a loop.

Meanwhile, here's an obscure treat posted by the NYC Sanitation Department's social media accounts:

In 1991, David Lynch showed the world the alienation and innate horror of a dirty street, directing this unforgettable anti-littering ad for the City of New York.

RIP to a visionary filmmaker and a pioneer of the Trash Revolution.

That was great! Here's 35 minutes of Lynch's commercial work

[erok910]

Had an hour long discussion with him in 2018. Will never forget him telling me Inland Empire was as important to him as Eraserhead. Love Twin Peaks: The Return, unbelievable artist. Also reminded me of when Mark Frost discussed season 3 of Twin Peaks as Homeric in the way of The Odyssey and Coopers return home.

[Beloved Aunt]

We almost had another. Netflix was going to produce a series he was directing called Unrecorded Night, but Lynch’s producer said it was cancelled when COVID hit. Supposedly a decent amount of footage had already been shot. A real pity.

What are the chances the public will ever see this footage?

[beamish14]

I feel like most of what I want to say would be an echo of what others have already posted, perhaps a sign of how profoundly his work affected us. His lack of cynicism went hand in hand with an earnestness that was easy for many people to mock. I find Sandy's description of her dream and its "blinding light of love" in Blue Velvet to be incredibly moving, coupled as it is with an instrumental version of "Mysteries of Love" and was genuinely, if naively, taken aback at the laughter that scene generated when I went to a screening in the late-'90s.

Regarding his work with actors, I recall an interview with Isabella Rossellini where she said the phrase he gave her as an entry into Dorothy's headspace was "The clouds are coming." He seems to have taken this approach a lot, not just with actors but musicians as well as in Badalamenti's description of how they collaborated on the Twin Peaks love theme, and his direction to Reggie Hamilton when working on the Thought Gang recordings (“Imagine you’re a chicken with your head cut off running around with a thousand bennies shoved down your throat!”). You can see some of this in the documentary features on The Return's Blu-ray where he's directing Sherilynn Fenn on how angry he wants her to play the scene. There's a lot of great material in those hours of extras. One particularly memorable bit has him directing the actor playing Ike the Spike on how to stab with an ice pick, mimicking the motions and saying something like "just drive that fucker right in there!" -- d.p. Peter Deming is standing in the background eating something and just sort of freezes mid-bite with a hilarious look on his face.

The first film of his I saw was The Elephant Man. I had a black & white tv in my room growing up and since I didn't like watching color movies on it I was excited that this fascinating sounding movie I read about in TV Guide was both new (-ish, I can't remember the exact year of this, but it was before we got cable in 1984) and in black and white. I don't remember much of anything about that viewing other than the opening sequence and the scene of Merrick's room being broken into.

After that, it was Blue Velvet on video, a fruitless hunt for Eraserhead at local video stores (no one had it, so I ordered a bootleg through the mail) and then quickly after that the premiere of Twin Peaks. And that was it, I was obsessed. That 1990-1992 period of Twin Peaks, Wild at Heart, On the Air, Hotel Room, and Fire Walk with Me was very instructive to me of how fickle tastes can be as he went from what at the time was probably his peak popularity (hit tv show, Palme d'or) to, in the media's view, someone who was too weird for his own good. Or worse, weird for the sake of being weird which strikes me as the bigger insult.

I didn't wholeheartedly love everything he did. Wild at Heart I find very abrasive if I'm not in the right mood. As brilliant and terrifying as Lost Highway is, I find some of his musical choices there questionable (though not the use of Lou Reed's cover of "This Magic Moment" which is wonderful). And I think the only time I ever enjoyed Dune was when I was completely stoned, so there's that.

I'm with those who think The Return might be the best thing he ever made. I'll never forget the thrill of watching it week to week over the summer of 2017, of genuinely not knowing what direction the show would take. And while of course I would have loved to seen more work from him, I can't imagine a better finale to his career.

Someone upthread compared Lynch's passing to that of Bowie. My wife said something similar over dinner last night: as with Bowie, it's hard to imagine living in a world without him anymore.

Eraserhead was so elusive on home video for a number of years that my neighborhood video store forced you to put down a $100 deposit for the Columbia tape

[Murdoch]

There's nothing more I can say that others haven't already. My favorite weirdo. I find it remarkable that someone so particular in his artistic vision and so eccentric was able to make such a mark on both the independent film scene as well as the mainstream. Absolutely deserved in every way. I'm still not over the ending to Mulholland Drive after all these years.

[GaryC]

It cannot be exaggerated how pivotal Mel Brooks was not just to the success of that film but also to Lynch's career, catapulting him almost overnight from the avant-garde to the heart of the Hollywood mainstream

Indeed, and I was expecting when Mel Brooks passes a tribute from Lynch to that effect. But sadly not to be, though happily Brooks is still with us at 98.