On Jan.15, legendary director David Lynch died at age 78, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. His movies carried a surreal energy that defied logic and even changed how I interact with film.
Lynch had a truly unique way of capturing the world on screen, something I saw firsthand when watching Twin Peaks. Time and time again, this show defied the average murder-mystery-cop-drama by using mind-bending elements as a device to recontextualize life’s triumphs and tragedies.
David Lynch has undeniably impacted the world, as he inspired a subgenre of filmmaking known as Lynchian. But in his absence, the contrast between his emotional and surreal films and today’s recycled, uninspired blockbusters is now more apparent than ever.
His loss makes me wonder if creatives can continue to create meaningful art in a society where art is weighed by its servitude to capitalism.
To truly understand the difference in quality, we must first understand who David Lynch was as a filmmaker.
“Lynchian” Cinema
The term Lynchian describes the surreal or sinister elements within mundane life, complemented by compelling, dreamlike visuals emphasizing mystery or menace themes.
Every beautiful thing can have a dark, ugly side. In Twin Peaks, this idea is explored through the character of Laura Palmer — who is introduced as the popular, smart and kind cheerleader whose tragic murder unveils the dark truth festering under her perfect persona.
This theme appears throughout his entire filmography, often creating unease through saturated colour grading, allowing for primary colours to pop in the most unnatural way.
Audiences then question why they are uneasy despite everything appearing normal on the surface. Lynch forces us to sink deeper into that feeling until our understanding of reality is subverted, thus fading the technicolour dream we’ve grown accustomed to.
Mulholland Drive is another film that shows examples of dreams subverting reality. Half the film is practically a dream, where Naomi Watts’ character Diane subscribes to a fantasy version of her life and refuses to accept reality for what it is.
David Lynch critiques how society views movies — as escapism from the real world. When regarded at its most basic form, movies are just executed ideas that reflect the perception of their creator. However, the world we view on screen can never be objective because its meaning lies within the original creator.
In my opinion, Mulholland Drive shows that the world is viewed through a personal bias, and we cannot help but look at our loved ones through the same biased lens. Lynchian cinema aims to broaden its viewer’s perspective, highlighting the various ways of life that exist outside of our personal fantasies.
Of course, I could be completely wrong. Lynch’s films are not meant to be straightforward; almost nothing is spelled out to the viewer. But what matters is that I had something to take away from his art. There was an impact, a collision of ideas, and a glimpse into someone else’s soul.
Isn’t that what art is all about?
Profit over Promise
As cinema becomes (rightfully) more accessible, it also allows for big conglomerates to easily profit off manipulating society’s emotions.
Recently, nostalgia has been all the craze. Many of the iconic films of the late 1990s and early 2000s are being given modern-day “reboots,” — which often include the same story played out with very little change. Just this past year, Mean Girls (2024), an adaptation of the Broadway musical inspired by the hit 2004 film of the same name starring young Lindsay Lohan and Rachel McAdams, was released.
The original film was a witty, hilarious take on peer pressure and toxicity amongst teenage girls and is now considered one of the most iconic films of its genre.
However, the 2024 version relays the exact same message in a less compelling or interesting way. It lacked any substantial original humour — and honestly made a mockery of its most iconic lines. Yet, it made over $100 million at the box office.
In addition, Disney has made 23 live-action remakes of their popular cartoons since 2000, each bringing millions of dollars into Disney’s pockets.
A majority of these films exist to capitalize on childhood, as Disney knows the emotional connection many have towards their original works. Consumer’s emotions are constantly manipulated, allowing major corporations to advertise a want that did not need to be filled in the first place.
This method reduces film as an extension of capitalism rather than something that actually deserves your money.
But what does any of this have to do with David Lynch?
A Post-Lynchian Society
Lynch was a true artist in his craft. He was absolutely dedicated to the media he chose to send out to the world. He wanted viewers to leave with something to think about; he wanted to tell people stories.
When I see an abundance of remakes and sequels advertised to me, I don’t get that same passionate feeling. I feel more like a pawn than an active part of the conversation.
Lynch carried such a unique perspective, and he recognized that society is full of individuals with unique perspectives. His films truly make you think, whether you want to or not.
Modern society seems to find itself in a state of anti-intellectualism. We are being fed an influx of mindless content that keeps us in the palm of capitalist hands — it makes it even harder for passionate creatives to find an audience, as very few production companies prioritize creativity over profit.
To many, Lynch’s prolific career represented the transformative nature of film. This way of interacting with art is threatened if we ignore independent filmmakers and continue to let the one percent dictate how we should feel.
In a world where politics and billionaires are becoming ever so intertwined, it’s important to create art. Your collision of ideas can have an emotional impact on the world if you just give it the chance.
You, too, can give the world a piece of your soul, just as Lynch did.