Happy Birthday, David Lynch, master of the unexplainable and the most exquisite horror in modern cinema and the best ever cliffhangers in the history of TV.
L. and I have a family joke about “Eraserhead” (one of the most beloved films of L.): “Eraserhead pretty much describes the life in Philly as it is, without sugarcoating.”
To be serious, Lynch is that kind of filmmaker who is not afraid of the hideousness and weirdness of real life, which could easily overplay any refined artistic nightmare. Remember that short Christmas entry in “Family Guy”? It sums it up perfectly: “Don’t look away. Let the fear wash over you. That’s the whole point.”
Lynch’s beloved actors are growing up and getting older in front of our very eyes: there is no such thing as an “extra” in his films, because everything—and I mean, everything—is equally and essentially important.
Lynch’s universe is expanding over the screens, unfolding the darkest and the most marvellous sides of our imagination.
True that: don’t look away. The owls are not what they seem.
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