"David Lynch: A Unique Filmmaking Legacy"

There's a scene in the Twin Peaks pilot that captures the essence of everyday life in a high school. A girl sneaks a cigarette, a boy gets called to the principal’s office, and a teacher takes attendance. But then, the mundane is shattered when a police officer enters the classroom and whispers to the teacher. A scream pierces the air, and through the window, a student is seen running across the courtyard. The teacher struggles to hold back tears, and the anticipation of an announcement fills the room. David Lynch then focuses his camera on an empty seat in the middle of the class. Two students exchange a glance, realizing in that moment that their friend Laura Palmer is dead.

Lynch was a master at capturing the surface-level details of life, yet he always delved deeper, uncovering a sense of unease lurking beneath. This Twin Peaks scene encapsulates the thematic thread that runs through his career—highlighting the unsettling undercurrents of normalcy. Yet, it's also not the only defining moment; Lynch's work spans over 40 years, and fans might point to countless other scenes that resonate with them. Each coffee-drinking, weather-report-watching Lynch enthusiast likely has a different favorite.

When you can't quite pinpoint what's wrong, it's often described as 'Lynchian.' This term captures the dream-like, unsettling quality that made David Lynch a legend. His passing leaves a void for fans, who cherished his unique voice and its varied appeal.

Few artists earn the honor of a new adjective. While terms like "Spielbergian" or "Scorsese-ish" denote specific elements like lighting or subject matter, "Kafkaesque" applies to anything deeply unsettling and disorienting. "Lynchian" belongs to this elite group, encompassing a broader, more pervasive sense of unease.

Watching Lynch's Eraserhead was a rite of passage for many budding film enthusiasts. Decades later, the filmmaker's teenage son undertook the same journey, watching Twin Peaks of his own accord, reaching the Windom Earle era of Season 2.

Lynch's work has a timeless quality, often tinged with oddity. Consider Twin Peaks: The Return in 2017, where he designed a bedroom for a child character that looked like it belonged to a 1956 ten-year-old—coincidentally, the year Lynch himself turned ten. Yet, this child lives in a bizarre world only Lynch could imagine, complete with a father who's a clone from another dimension and an evil counterpart who violently punches through a face.

Despite the nostalgia-driven Hollywood trend, Lynch used The Return to defy expectations, leaving audiences bewildered by not bringing back key characters in meaningful ways. This was quintessentially Lynchian.

When Lynch adhered to Hollywood conventions with Dune, it became one of the most notorious misfires. Yet, even then, it bore Lynch's unmistakable touch, from the cat/rat milking machine to the infamous chicken dinner scene. For a deeper dive into Lynch's Dune experience, check out Max Evry's book, A Masterpiece in Disarray.

Lynch's imagery, though often weird, funny, or disturbing, has a unique beauty. The Elephant Man, his closest venture into mainstream acclaim, is a touching story set against the backdrop of a disquieting era where sideshow freaks were real and mistreated.

Defining Lynch's work by genre or trope is futile, yet his films are instantly recognizable. His work blends darkness, humor, surrealism, and genuine strangeness in an organic way. He was fascinated by the world beneath our own, often pulling back the curtain to reveal what lies behind.

Take Blue Velvet, for instance. It's a noir where an everyman turns amateur detective in a world that seems idyllic but hides a seedy underbelly of gas-huffing dealers and lounge singers. Set in a mid-century Americana that's far from the whole truth, Lynch's films are infused with surrealism and unconcerned with being grounded. A documentary on Lynch's relationship with The Wizard of Oz further explores these influences, which are unique and unlikely to be replicated.

In 2024, I Saw The TV Glow features a scene at a bar that captures a Lynchian atmosphere with its floating camera work, theatrical wardrobe, and out-of-sync red lights. Jane Schoenbrun's film, inspired by Twin Peaks, showcases the broad influence of the term "Lynchian."

Filmmakers like Yorgos Lanthimos, Robert Eggers, Ari Aster, David Robert Mitchell, Emerald Fennell, Richard Kelly, Rose Glass, Quentin Tarantino, and Denis Villeneuve all owe a debt to Lynch's style. From The Lobster to The Lighthouse, Midsommar to It Follows, and Under the Silver Lake to Saltburn, Donnie Darko to Love Lies Bleeding, Lynch's influence is undeniable.