Analysis: the film maker has found a substitute for the film-set in his daily weather musings from Los Angeles
David Lynch has long safeguarded his status as one of the most influential directors working today, as well as one of most frequently discussed and analysed. Rory Carroll recently described the director's artistic vision as "one of the great enigmas of cinema" and, with some justifiable exaggeration, "one that has launched a thousand film studies PhDs".
Indeed, Lynch’s cryptic projects continue to confound filmgoers and scholars alike with their characteristic blend of neo-noir plotlines, quotidian vignettes of suburban Americana and, unfailingly, elements of the surreal, supernatural and horrific. It's a singular "juxtaposition of the mundane with the macabre and the bizarre", often including "extreme, provocative and brutal images".
Equally characteristic of all things "Lynchian" is the glacial, somnambulistic slowness with which so many of his projects are imbued. The recent revival of his landmark series Twin Peaks pushed this quality to its farthest extremes. Initially conceived as an 18 hour film, Twin Peaks: The Return was later divided into hour-long instalments for its small-screen broadcast. Irish Lynch fans recently lobbied the Lighthouse Cinema to screen the entire series in a day-long marathon, although they failed to secure the rights to do so.
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From RTÉ Radio 1's Arena, John Maguire on the surreal world of one of cinema's true masters and filmmakers, David Lynch
But unlike many other directors, it is interesting to note how deeply viewers' understandings of Lynch are enmeshed in the director’s public persona. This includes his outspoken views on creativity (spawning countless viral videos); his blanket refusal to comment on the meaning of his films; his chirpy, unmistakable transatlantic patter (which starkly contrasts with his unsettling filmic creations); his advocacy for Transcendental Meditation; and, in particular, his impulsive commitment to his ideas. One need only look at Lynch's 2006 attempt to secure an Oscar nomination for Laura Dern's performance in Inland Empire, when he sat on Hollywood Boulevard accompanied by a Friesian cow and an enormous still of Dern. Lynch later described this bovine stunt as a "necessity"
Many commentators have attempted to unravel the kernel of Lynch's identity by connecting his other artistic endeavours, which range from film to painting, sculpture, lithography, several albums of original music and even his own line of organic coffee. Joel Hawkes recently suggested that Lynch’s films might be best explained by acknowledging the director’s background as an impressionist painter and, quoting Greg Olson, his "penchant for treating a film set like an unfinished canvas".
However, given the devastating fallout that the Covid-19 pandemic has borne on the Hollywood film industry, Lynch has had access to no such canvas. Instead, far from any film set, Lynch has channelled his singular artistic vision into a very different medium: that is, homemade daily weather announcements for his LA locale.
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David Lynch's first weather report of 2020
Although this might be seen as a surprising undertaking for a successful film director, Lynch is no stranger to such amateur meteorology. He uploaded similar updates throughout the mid-2000s from what appeared to be a cluttered tool-shed. Filmed from the same darkened perch, virtually unchanged in 15 years, he revived these reports on May 11th and has since posted close to 200 updates. These short offerings (typically one minute in duration) largely adhere to the same whimsically repetitive formula, each beginning with Lynch’s unmistakable drawl of "Here in L.A. …" and concluding with optimistic promises of "blue skies and golden sunshine".
Of course, like the aforementioned cow caper, it would be easy for one to dismiss Lynch's daily weather reports as a routine addition to his enigmatic (if not eccentric) penchant for the strange and the unexplainable. Consequently, it is quite possible to overlook how these short videos incorporate many of the same narrative and stylistic tropes that characterise both Lynch’s films and his enigmatic persona: whether in their self-awareness and off-kilter humour (in one memorable instalment, Lynch holds a large glass jar and asks "what is the purpose of this jar?", without offering any explanation), or indeed their very familiar juxtaposition of the mundane with the sublime, as subtle breaks from his repetitive formula enable some truly captivating moments.
Three examples come to mind. In one report, Lynch asks permission to lapse into contemplative silence ("today, I feel like just sitting here with you for a while, if that’s ok"). In another, he recounts a vivid dream about World War II, on the anniversary of D-Day. Perhaps most strikingly, Lynch is prominently absent from one video, leaving only his empty chair. The following day’s weather report revealed this gesture to be in support of Blackout Tuesday’s protest against police brutality.
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David Lynch's weather report from June 2nd last
In all these moments, Lynch teases his viewers for their expectations (however fanciful) that something more profound or cinematic is at play. The day-long wait that audiences endured before discovering the meaning behind his empty chair brings to mind the "belatedness of explicit narrative meanings" that Anne Jerslav flags in Lynch's films, while other examples neatly fit Antonio Sanna’s description of Lynch’s propensity for "encrypted narratives".
Just as the mundane and monotonous carve out some of his films’ most memorable moments, it seems Lynch has taken advantage of this new medium and its piecemeal mode of consumption to communicate something more than just the weather, surreptitiously reforging day-to-day life in lockdown as his latest tableau. He has said himself that, if it weren’t for Covid-19, he would be making a film.
"I like this thing about weather … it is interesting!" he pondered, sporting an all too familiar, knowing smile
Yet, it seems he has found a fair substitute. In these daily videos, Lynch affords his followers entry into a world which is very familiar to them and which, as in his films, is destined to remain confoundingly unresolved. That said, as with everything Lynchian, there is always the possibility that "the sum of its parts" may be much simpler than the speculation his work is so carefully crafted to stimulate.
Lynch recently made this seem all the more likely in a rare reference to his weather reports: "I like this thing about weather … it is interesting!" he pondered, sporting an all too familiar, knowing smile. Perhaps this curious media phenomenon that Lynch has sculpted from his life in lockdown could really be so simple and honest.
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent or reflect the views of RTÉ
