One morning, David Lynch awoke to hear his intercom buzzing. A man’s voice on the other end spoke, referring to him as “Dave.” Lynch answered, “Yeah?” and the man said, “Dick Laurent is dead.” Lynch said, “What?” but there was no one at the door. And he’d never heard of a Dick Laurent. He looked out to the large window on the other side of his house by the door, but again, no one there.
A typical morning for the man who has provided us with some of the most powerfully psychological fright and pleasure? Maybe. An inspiration for one of his greatest films? Definitely. If a Lynchian universe all exists within the mind, somewhere between waking and consciousness, Lost Highway is that moment in a nightmare where your body begins to panic, knowing this is not quite reality but you’re stuck, you cannot wake yourself up and in dreams you must visualize physically prying your eyes open and screaming aloud in order to escape.