The Films Are Not What They Seem.

 Warning: This post contains spoilers.

Ever since the debut of the surreal soap opera Twin Peaks in 1990, I've developed a fascination with the works of David Lynch.  Since then, all his movies have made their way into my DVD collection and I have proclaimed him as my favorite film director.

I was watching a scene from Blue Velvet the other day, and after seeing the movie close to 20 times since I bought the VHS back in the day, something just knocked me over the side of the head:  David Lynch isn't the great director that I thought he was.

I had always stated that Lynch was a director of twisted originality.  Even if you watch a film of his and don't understand a damn thing in it, you have to admit that at least it was something weird and crazy, and perhaps something you hadn't seen before.  I remember that was the case after I saw Lynch's debut feature, Eraserhead.



Here's a movie about a guy who holds up in a hotel room with a mutant baby in his dresser drawer and a woman with huge cheeks in his radiator singing "In Heaven, everything is fine."

While that would generate in any normal viewer a huge "What the...?" moment, I saw it as a cinematic experience of pure surrealism.

Well, I now realize that I had been brainwashed.  Eraserhead was a cinematic experiment and that was about it.  I think I had been overcome with what I was watching and immediately saw it as something original, when all I was really watching was a bad nightmare put on film, and a poorly made film no less.  Besides, Luis Bunel and Salvador Dali already did what this film tried to do anyway.

And then there's acting in a David Lynch movie.  After watching Blue Velvet again, I realized that Dennis Hopper's portrayal of Frank Booth was just over-the-top and stupid.  It was a hammy performance and I don't now HOW Lynch could have thought that it was worth anything.  Just watch his reaction here to Dean Stockwell's singing of Roy Orbison's suave ballad "In Dreams".  The whole performance seems forced and extremely uninspired.



And while Laura Dern would act far better 4 years later in Lynch's Wild At Heart, she's nothing but a wooden stick figure here with a bad 80's perm. No wonder Kyle MacLachlan saw more of an attraction to Isabella Rossellini.

Lynch's other works, The Elephant Man, Dune, Lost Highway, Mulholland Dr., and his recent Inland Empire, all share some of the same traits.  Acting is subpar in a lot of these films, and I really can't understand what made me like them in the first place.  Although I thoroughly admit Lost Highway is a really good movie, and contains one of the creepiest scenes in film history.



Then there's Twin Peaks.  For 20 years I have proclaimed the TV series as one of my all time favorites, and I still watch episodes from time to time.  However, once again, I've noticed that hammy acting rears its ugly head.  Ray Wise as Leland Palmer goes overboard with his loss and sorrow for his daughter Laura, and who can forget Sherilyn Fenn's nutty jazz dance in the Double R Diner?  Was this done for laughs or drama?  To tell you the truth, I really don't know.







And the resolution for the murder of Laura Palmer was a cop-out.  An evil spirit manifesting itself as a demonic, long gray-haired trucker guy in a denim jacket?  Yeah, once again we get an easy way out. 

After years and years of watching Agent Cooper and his posse drink damn fine coffee and track down clues and mysteries that not even the most fervent LOST fan could figure out, I realize now that David Lynch was just toying with his audience for no apparent reason.

Which brings me to this:  David Lynch is no longer my favorite film director.  Look, the guy has an eye for the camera, and I still think he has the ability to make a really good film, but I think all these years of watching weird craziness unfold on-screen with talking dwarves, creamed corn, powder-faced maniacs, and a prom queen wrapped in plastic, I think it's time for me to look elsewhere for a true artist in the film industry to admire, such as Terrence Malick, Joel Schumacher, or dare I say it.....Woody Allen. 

Now that I think about it, Annie Hall isn't that bad of a film. As a matter of fact, Diane Keaton kinda has it going on in a cute, Kate Beckinsale-y way.