Leach & Lynch: Livin' la vida lockdown

Setting the scene: It’s dusk in a not-so-small, but perfectly suburban town. Lockdown on this Sunday evening is starting to become normality.  

As you walk into your garden a man sits in a fold-out chair, hair like whipped cream, smoking a cigarette. The fumes float out of the end against the breeze. He’s dressed in a once-immaculate black suit, and his eyes are creased against the setting sun.  It’s David Lynch, and things are about to get a whole lot weirder. 

Meeting-Lynch-fantasies aside, imagine spending a prolonged amount of time locked up with the wildman of cinema. For those unfamiliar with his work, and no doubt confused about the opening paragraph, allow me to briefly explain: 

David Lynch is a filmmaker, artist, and musician who works in his own distinct style, characterised by its surrealism, dream-like sequences, and exposure of the dark underbelly of suburban life. He's known for films such as 1977’s cult art-film Eraserhead, 1986’s neo-noir Blue Velvet, or his mystery-soap TV Show Twin Peaks in the eary 90s. Lynch’s work is so unique and particular, that the term ‘Lynchian’ was coined to describe works that draw clear influence from him. 

Whilst (despite my previous writing) I am under no pretenses that a lockdown with Lynch would descend into a visit to a paranormal realm of backwards-speaking jazz dancers, the man’s life outside of film seems interesting enough to be part of for a few months: 

• Lynch is an avid practitioner and proponent of transcendental meditation. I’m not necessarily prone to becoming involved in new-age pseudo-religions, sure, but aren’t we all trying something new in this ‘unusual and unprecedented’ time?  
• The man refuses often to speak about his work; I like this in him. ‘Death of The Author’ by Roland Barthes proposes that the producer of a piece of writing (and by extension art in its entirety) has no authority on what it means, and rather that is down to the interpretation of the audience. I generally hold this theory to be true, and specifically for Lynch I don’t want to know what his intentions were. I like Lynch because most of the time I haven’t got a clue what’s going on – I only pretend to be some sort of film critic for these articles. Lynch’s weirdness is part of his charm; add definite meaning to it would be like understanding those batshit dreams you have after eating too much garlic. 

• Have you heard his music? Just about as esoteric as his films. Trying to track his musical influences is a fruitless task. Whilst most of his soundtracks are jazzy, lounge-y, and ethereal, this is mostly the work of long-time collaborator Angelo Badalmenti. His solo albums released under his name are a lot different. They’re industrial, vocoded, out of tune. They’re also pop songs, with heavy 50s rock and roll influence. They have stream of consciousness lyrcis. It’s difficult to explain really, and I’d honestly prefer to pick his brain about what exactly is going on during his musical process than what he puts on camera. 

What’s a day with Lynch like? Three months? Actors that have worked with him on many occasions maintain strong friendships with him. He appears as if to be a sort of wizard-grandad, transplanted from a mirror world to ours. I can only hope he’d live up to this vibe. 

David Lynch has directed only 10 feature films in 43 years. These are: Eraserhead (1977), The Elephant Man (1980), Dune (1984), Blue Velvet (1986), Wild At Heart (1990), Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992), Lost Highway (1997), The Straight Story (1999)*, Mulholland Drive (2001) and Inland Empire (2006). * The only film of the 10 not also written by Lynch.

Want to experience more Lynchian magic? Look below for a playlist of all of the director's short films dating back to 1966.