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David Lynch and Tears: A Videographic Tribute

David Lynch has died. It’s a sentence I refused to accept that I would probably one day write. Wasn’t it just possible that this singularly original film-and-media auteur, who seemed to be operating on another level, might outlive us all? I can’t think of another public creative figure in the United States whose death in my lifetime has been mourned as collectively. He was my favorite contemporary filmmaker. His work rewired my experience of art, defining my aesthetic tastes as an adult. As disturbing as it was, his investigation into “the absurd mystery of the strange forces of existence,” to quote the subtitle of one of his unfinished projects, changed the way I look at life in general—all to the good. I’m paraphrasing things I have said, but I have read and heard versions of these same sentiments from a whole host of people over the past week.

What Hitchcock and Fellini meant to an earlier generation of cinephiles, Lynch was that for Gen Xers and Millennials. He was both filmmakers, it seemed, rolled into one. Above all, however, he was an artist who distinguished himself with a personal vision and a signature style that was so consistent and recognizable, he became one of a select group of filmmakers whose name received an adjective derivation. “Lynchian” quickly became used in both art-cinema and pop-culture contexts to refer to an I-know-it-when-I-see-it sensibility. In 2018, the term “Lynchian” was even added to the Oxford English Dictionary, which explained that “Lynch is noted for juxtaposing surreal or sinister elements with mundane, everyday environments, and for using compelling visual images to emphasize a dreamlike quality of mystery or menace.”

The following videographic tribute highlights an important element in his work that definitions of the “Lynchian” often elide in their emphasis on the sinister and the menacing. Lynch infused his nightmare worlds with pathos, seeking to establish empathetic identification with his characters. Often deeply moving, his work proved that formal experimentation and the expression of sincere emotion need not be mutually exclusive. It was soulful surrealism.

Click here or the image below for the video. 

Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) in a scene from Twin Peaks.

Written by Will Scheibel

Will Scheibel is a film critic and historian based in Syracuse, New York, where he holds an academic appointment at Syracuse University as Professor of Film and Screen Studies in the Department of English, and serves as Chair of the department. He is the author of GENE TIERNEY: STAR OF HOLLYWOOD'S HOME FRONT (Wayne State University Press, 2022) and is currently writing a book on Universal Pictures monster movies.

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