I think most creatives have a story or three about the influence David Lynch had over them. I remember the first time I watched Twin Peaks, it was at this weird guy Corey’s house in the Jamaica Plain area of Boston. We had all of Twin Peaks taped off some TV station, I think it could have been AMC or TCM. They featured introductions by the Log Lady, something that has since become standard on all the home video releases. At that point there were some barebones VHS releases, but nothing definitive. We had 3 dozen donuts, multiple coffee pots and a few bottles of Southern Comfort (something I never really drank again after this weekend). And we watched it all! All of it straight through the weekend, including Fire Walk with Me. And it ws fucking awesome. Just an incredible way to watch this TV event, this monumental trick on the American public (and the world at large, eventually). I told my parents what I was doing that weekend and they groaned! “BE PREPARED TO BE DISAPPOINTED” they moaned. “We still don’t know who Killed Laura Palmer!”
It’s easy to understand why so many are upset at his passing. In a world full of artificial enthusiasm and corporate art, it’s especially rare to find someone who practiced their craft with every ounce of authenticity they had, and to live life the same way. We should all be so genuine. And to live life so full. You want to know the measure of a man, look at the friends they’ve carried for decades. He had collaborators in spades. We should all be so lucky.
I’m particularly upset because he was denied his final works. The bizzness stopped looking at Lynch as marketable after he finished Twin Peaks: The Return. To deny a master craftsman their last opportunity to bestow their gift on the world is a crime against humanity, and should be punished. Yet that punishment will never come, because their is no justice in this world.
Godspeed, Let’s rock.