David Lynch The Art Life. (15.)
Directed by Rick Barnes, Olivia Neergaard-Holm and Jon Nguyen.
Starring David Lynch. 88 mins
Around the time of Elephant Man, Mel Brooks described David Lynch as Jimmy Stewart From Mars (an overused quote, but in over 40 years nobody's topped it) and the film shows us his “super happy” childhood with his reasonable and generally supportive parents and how this shaped his unique outlook. It's a portrait of a weirdo born of perfect American contentment.
From there though it needed the tough streets of Philadelphia, and unplanned fatherhood to really shape his vision. The film takes us up to the release of his first full feature, the incomparable Eraserhead.
Film reviewers kid ourselves that he is a film maker, but really he is an artist who dabbles in movies. This crowd funded film is a very dull concept – we see the present day artist at work on his canvases, while he himself tells us about his early life and career before film making. These are accompanied by photos and bits of cinefilm from the time. We also look at maybe one hundred of his paintings. It should be deadly dull, but such is his presence, and those of his paintings, that it is enthralling, as fine a film about a film maker, or any other artist, that I have seen.
Of course, Lynch tells his own story; it wouldn't be real coming from anyone else. He has perfect recall of names and places from 50/ 60 years earlier. These memories seem much clearer to him, much closer, then with most people. He has that gift for being mundanely wacky, coming up with quotes like, “for some reason, I always liked the idea of going to Boston.”
In photos the slightly chubby younger Lynch is like Oscar Wilde. He must've taken some beatings in Philly, but he doesn't recount them. The present day Lynch is old but unblemished, and with an immaculate head of hair. You can see the lines and aged skin but it's a layer of inconsequence. He's an Adonis Steptoe.
The Art Life is an off putting title but this is exactly what the film gives us. I remember once listening to Steve Wright In The Afternoon a long, long time ago (when he was still on Radio 1) introducing a Talking Heads record by saying that lead singer David Byrne was so arty he could probably talk for hours about making a cup of tea. This remark came back to me while watching this documentary because Lynch is a man whose whole life is art and is so without contrivance or effort; it's just the way he is.
Directed by Rick Barnes, Olivia Neergaard-Holm and Jon Nguyen.
Starring David Lynch. 88 mins
Around the time of Elephant Man, Mel Brooks described David Lynch as Jimmy Stewart From Mars (an overused quote, but in over 40 years nobody's topped it) and the film shows us his “super happy” childhood with his reasonable and generally supportive parents and how this shaped his unique outlook. It's a portrait of a weirdo born of perfect American contentment.
From there though it needed the tough streets of Philadelphia, and unplanned fatherhood to really shape his vision. The film takes us up to the release of his first full feature, the incomparable Eraserhead.
Film reviewers kid ourselves that he is a film maker, but really he is an artist who dabbles in movies. This crowd funded film is a very dull concept – we see the present day artist at work on his canvases, while he himself tells us about his early life and career before film making. These are accompanied by photos and bits of cinefilm from the time. We also look at maybe one hundred of his paintings. It should be deadly dull, but such is his presence, and those of his paintings, that it is enthralling, as fine a film about a film maker, or any other artist, that I have seen.
Of course, Lynch tells his own story; it wouldn't be real coming from anyone else. He has perfect recall of names and places from 50/ 60 years earlier. These memories seem much clearer to him, much closer, then with most people. He has that gift for being mundanely wacky, coming up with quotes like, “for some reason, I always liked the idea of going to Boston.”
In photos the slightly chubby younger Lynch is like Oscar Wilde. He must've taken some beatings in Philly, but he doesn't recount them. The present day Lynch is old but unblemished, and with an immaculate head of hair. You can see the lines and aged skin but it's a layer of inconsequence. He's an Adonis Steptoe.
The Art Life is an off putting title but this is exactly what the film gives us. I remember once listening to Steve Wright In The Afternoon a long, long time ago (when he was still on Radio 1) introducing a Talking Heads record by saying that lead singer David Byrne was so arty he could probably talk for hours about making a cup of tea. This remark came back to me while watching this documentary because Lynch is a man whose whole life is art and is so without contrivance or effort; it's just the way he is.
