The Surrealist World of David Lynch

The absurd and dramatic universe of a painter who makes movies

I first encountered David Lynch’s work during my senior year in high school. His film Eraserhead left a vivid impression on my memories. I remember being a little bored with the film, but the images it conjured up remained entrenched deep within my thoughts. I was peculiarly disturbed by the Lady in the Radiator and her haunting rendition of the song In Heaven. The deformed baby was more of a fascination than a phobia, save for one scene where his father says “Oh you are sick!”

You can’t really explain a David Lynch film. They are absurd, surreal, disturbing, horrific, beautiful, tragic, dramatic, and euphoric all at the same time. An unnerving energy is present in almost every frame, and almost no work is identical to the other. His background as a painter served as a great influence in making him a unique filmmaker.

He never explains in interviews what his films mean, emphatically answering “No” to any suggestion of even the slightest elaboration on themes. Lynch has stated he feels this way towards interpretations due to the belief that art is nothing more than what it presents, be it a picture or a painting or a film or a building. “It just is”. Anything is up to the subjective reality of its viewer. This approach has made his work one of the most widely interpreted in any genre.

The world Lynch creates is clearly imaginary, yet it doesn’t deter or diminish its quality in any aspect. It is similar but not identical to magical realism, but its approach is more mysterious and horrific. The idiosyncrasies and absurdities of his world are not to be taken with vigor and splendor, but caution and fear over the uncertainty of its nature.

Many scholars have commented on the dream-like quality of the presentation of his work, but I would argue this is only the surface of Lynch’s vision. He taps deeper into the unconscious, into something hidden even from our dreams. His deep passion and commitment to Transcendental Meditation holds a hint to the way he approaches art.

The quintessential Lynch work for many is Twin Peaks. Created in collaboration with Mark Frost, it depicts the life and mysteries of a small and obscure town as its inhabitants try to solve and deal with the murder of Laura Palmer, a high schooler with a dark past. Her murder is used as an exploration into the town’s culture and horrible secrets. The entire concept of normality is turned on its head through careful dissection of the dynamics between the social hierarchies of the town. This is a prevalent fixture in much of Lynch’s work. The suburban household and the happy neighborhood are deconstructed and morph into something ugly and frightening.

The best films that capture this aesthetic are Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive. A stark and haunting contrast is created between the night and day in both films, and they are used to wonderful effects. He doesn’t intentionally present them to cause fear like a horror film does; they are a direct product of the surreal world he has created.

Despite the aura of mystery and the many interpretations offered in his work, understanding Lynch isn’t the difficult task most people claim it is. He speaks through the sub-conscious and channels the part of our thoughts that have a clearer understanding of the machinations of the world, that see the fake image behind the veil of conformity. I always hearken back to one of the opening images of Blue Velvet where a fireman is waving emphatically to the camera as he passes by in his firetruck. There’s a mechanic feel to his movement, robotic in nature, almost as if programmed to do so for our own comfort. It is one simple moment inside a two-hour film full of these small idiosyncrasies made to question the stability of our surroundings. All of Lynch’s work, down to his smallest painting, are filled with them.

To call Lynch only a filmmaker would be mislabeling. His work has extended to the fields of paintings, music, and even architecture. His friends and contemporaries have mentioned how he lives life through “the art life”, meaning every ounce of energy in his body is dedicated to creating art. Despite making only two films over the past 18 years (he vehemently says Twin Peaks: The Return is a film), he has remained active in creating art through short films and paintings. One of his most recent shorts centers around a colony of ants slowly eating a ball of cheese for 13 minutes. The eerie musical background, distorted camera angle, and slowly-decomposing shape offer a disturbing picture you can’t help but continue to observe.

Lynch operates in a realm different from most artists. You can’t quite explain why you understand them, you just do. The documentary “The Art Life” presents a quiet man deep in his own world. There is no difference in the way he smokes a cigarette or paints; they are done virtually with the same pace and care. It unmasks the mystery to demonstrate he is just a man who happens to put his thoughts into art. It’s that absurd.