My stepson wanted to geek out on Twin Peaks, which none of us have seen, because he also likes to geek out on David Lynch (we'd already watched Lost Highway and Blue Velvet with him -- when he wants to have a shared experience with us, we tend to put up with a lot to have it).
Many of you probably saw at least some of Twin Peaks, but we've now viewed the original series ('90-'91), the movie ('92) and the recent 3rd season from a few years ago.
It's definitely an acquired taste. Lynch, for those who don't know him, has a penchant for obscure symbolism, the absurd, etc. He's kind of a modern Jean Cocteau, I suppose. He pays particular attention to sound design, and likes to play overmuch with the concept of time. In one memorable scene, the camera holds a long shot of a guy sweeping the floor of a bar after closing, for like 3 minutes (it seems like 10). You become aware of the small nuances of how he's herding peanut shells around on the floor. Nothing else happens. Suddenly, the phone rings and the bartender in the far background answers and has a conversation. You only hear the bartender's side of it and aren't sure what the exchange is about exactly. Then the narrative (if you can call it that) moves onto something entirely different, and you already know from experience that this thread may or may not be picked up again at some point, maybe or maybe not something critical to plot development or coherence. It sort of forces you to pay attention against your will.
Elsewhere Lynch takes the concept of "pregnant pause" to new heights. The basic pattern is, character A asks character B a question. Character B doesn't immediately answer. A and B just look neutrally at each other, neither quizzical or irritated, like this is the most normal conversation flow in the world. This can go on for easily 30 seconds, or generally ALMOST to the point where you no longer remember the original question. Then the character B answers, VERY deliberately, often with pauses or indirections of their own.
Almost everything about this, especially in the 3rd season, is designed to keep you off-center at all times. The whole thing is by turns corny, intriguing, compelling, boring ... I would not go so far as to say, "brilliant" though.
It makes you want to gouge your eyes out, but it's so well executed and there's just enough mystery in the plot (basically an elaborate murder mystery with supernatural overtones) that you feel you have to see it through. If you think that in the end you'll have closure or clarity, though, that would be a mistake. The best you can hope for is an ending for which multiple interpretations are possible. It's the kind of things that fans will argue about for years.
The best succinct phrase I have for this is "cinematic masturbation". Typical self-absorbed artist working out his Issues through his films. Lynch's saving grace is flashes of intense creativity in visual and auditory design.
After Twin Peaks we made the mistake of watching Lynch's first feature film, Eraserhead. More of the same, although, more disturbing.
I told my wife I'm Lynched out for a few months -- if she wants to encourage her son further in this, she's on her own. I think she's overloaded too, though.
Many of you probably saw at least some of Twin Peaks, but we've now viewed the original series ('90-'91), the movie ('92) and the recent 3rd season from a few years ago.
It's definitely an acquired taste. Lynch, for those who don't know him, has a penchant for obscure symbolism, the absurd, etc. He's kind of a modern Jean Cocteau, I suppose. He pays particular attention to sound design, and likes to play overmuch with the concept of time. In one memorable scene, the camera holds a long shot of a guy sweeping the floor of a bar after closing, for like 3 minutes (it seems like 10). You become aware of the small nuances of how he's herding peanut shells around on the floor. Nothing else happens. Suddenly, the phone rings and the bartender in the far background answers and has a conversation. You only hear the bartender's side of it and aren't sure what the exchange is about exactly. Then the narrative (if you can call it that) moves onto something entirely different, and you already know from experience that this thread may or may not be picked up again at some point, maybe or maybe not something critical to plot development or coherence. It sort of forces you to pay attention against your will.
Elsewhere Lynch takes the concept of "pregnant pause" to new heights. The basic pattern is, character A asks character B a question. Character B doesn't immediately answer. A and B just look neutrally at each other, neither quizzical or irritated, like this is the most normal conversation flow in the world. This can go on for easily 30 seconds, or generally ALMOST to the point where you no longer remember the original question. Then the character B answers, VERY deliberately, often with pauses or indirections of their own.
Almost everything about this, especially in the 3rd season, is designed to keep you off-center at all times. The whole thing is by turns corny, intriguing, compelling, boring ... I would not go so far as to say, "brilliant" though.
It makes you want to gouge your eyes out, but it's so well executed and there's just enough mystery in the plot (basically an elaborate murder mystery with supernatural overtones) that you feel you have to see it through. If you think that in the end you'll have closure or clarity, though, that would be a mistake. The best you can hope for is an ending for which multiple interpretations are possible. It's the kind of things that fans will argue about for years.
The best succinct phrase I have for this is "cinematic masturbation". Typical self-absorbed artist working out his Issues through his films. Lynch's saving grace is flashes of intense creativity in visual and auditory design.
After Twin Peaks we made the mistake of watching Lynch's first feature film, Eraserhead. More of the same, although, more disturbing.
I told my wife I'm Lynched out for a few months -- if she wants to encourage her son further in this, she's on her own. I think she's overloaded too, though.
