I fear it would just be some pastiche of his old self—Lynch for the sake of being Lynch and there’s nothing Lychian about that at all.
(Source: katieb1013)
More than twenty years after the premiere of Twin Peaks, fans are still obsessing over the cult series known for its bizarre walk between unique humor and pure darkness—finding themselves spiraling down into the underbelly lurking beneath the placid façade into a dichotomous world that mixes the intrigue of murder and mystery with the saccharine lust for cherry pie and coffee. For the 20th anniversary of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, 92Y Tribeca is hosting a series of Lynchian events, and this Saturday Silent Drape Runners (made up of Flavorpill’s Russ Marshalek and Sophie Weiner) will perform a live rescoring of the acclaimed series titled Twin Peaks: The Beginning. We caught up with Russ and Sophie before their performance to see how the musical pairing came about, their favorite Twin Peaks moments, and which characters they connect with the most. (Warning: Spoilers ahead!)
Sycamore Trees
Curtains are both hiding and revealing. Sometimes it’s so beautiful that they’re hiding, it gets your imagination going. But in the theatre, when the curtains open, you have this fantastic euphoria, that you’re going to see something new, something will be revealed
What’s first helpful to understand is the genuinely folksy manner that seems to underscore Lynch’s strangeness. David Foster Wallace identified this quality in his 1996 Premiere essay “David Lynch Keeps His Head.” On the set of Lost Highway, Lynch apparently muttered “Golly!” three times in five minutes. “This is a genius auteur whose vocabulary in person consists of things like okey-doke and marvy and terrif and gee,” Wallace wrote. He speaks of Lynch’s matching pants and socks, “suggesting an extremely nerdy costume that’s been chosen and coordinated with great care.” Yet in his criticism, Wallace zeroes in on what we would call the creepiness of Lynch’s films (and they are quite unsettling, from 1977’s Eraserhead to 2006’s INLAND EMPIRE) and defines the Lynchian essence as “a particular kind of irony where the very macabre and the very mundane combine in such a way as to reveal the former’s perpetual containment within the latter.” Yes, Wallace nailed that Lynchian aesthetic accurately enough. But inherent in that mundanity is the potential for wry Lynchian humor, kitschy in the way it plays off those humdrum details and able to skillfully humanize and often deepen the characters as a result.
If you take the last cup of coffee kindly make another pot!
If you’ve never seen the SNL Twin Peaks parody, I suggest you watch it.
(via redvelvetteacake)
