GUT REACTIONS: David Lynch dead at 78
In a very Black fashion: I was literally thinking about him when his death hit the web.
In my GUT REACTIONS series, I discuss films and their cultural significance.
You’ll notice that when someone dies, the first thing a Black person says is “I was just talking to them the other day.”
It’s a funny rhetorical and linguistical quirk we have. Because ideally, someone is up and about, having conversations with other people and participating in society right until the moment that they die.
“I had just seen them the other day!” we exclaim. I hide my laughter; what I want to say is, “I sure hope so!”
I’m finding out that David Lynch’s death wasn’t unexpected.
Apart from being simply old, everyone from my bestie to my ex-situationship to random Lynch heads on Instagram have mentioned the sheer number of cigs Lynch smoked.
I’m personally struck by the way he revealed his emphysema diagnosis: A romantic, tactile, witty confession.
This past August, Lynch tweeted:
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Yes, I have emphysema from my many years of smoking. I have to say that I enjoyed smoking very much, and I do love tobacco - the smell of it, lighting cigarettes on fire, smoking them - but there is a price to pay for this enjoyment, and the price for me is emphysema. I have now quit smoking for over two years. Recently I had many tests and the good news is that I am in excellent shape except for emphysema. I am filled with happiness, and I will never retire.
I want you all to know that I really appreciate your concern.
Love,
David
It’s only fitting that Lynch was memorialized on a page like Cigfluencers.
But my entire feed was RIP DAVID LYNCH — and why wouldn’t it be?
His impact on weird kids, who grew up into weird adults, is undeniable. But my story is a little different, because I was newer to Lynch. I was actually in the process of getting closer to him when he died.
I had just seen him the other day…
That’s a damn good cup of coffee.
My first introduction to Lynch, besides “Perfect Drug” by Nine Inch Nails, was Inland Empire (2006). I was in a bad place, on micro and macro scale, when I watched it, so I have nothing nice to say about that film.
It was only a few months ago that I really got into Lynch: his freaky-deaky (let’s bring this phrase back!), thought-provoking, unsettling work had started to seduce me via Twin Peaks.
As you’ll soon come to find, I’m a fiend for thoughtful color-grading and a slut for set design — so Twin Peaks has absolutely been a feast for my senses.
Beyond David’s finesse for suspense, I truly understand what the girls and Oxford University mean by “Lynchian.”
As a man of a certain age (28), it has specifically been a treat to get the full, spooky context around some of the most ubiquitous images on eeriecore Tumblr and thought-daughter Instagram.
Personally, I’m glad I could put my weird undergrad experience with Inland Empire behind me. I’m glad I got to fall in love with Lynch in the context of homebrewed hotpot, flickering candles, buttery crisps from H Mart, and a fuzzy blanket at a dear friend’s house.
It’s why I woke up on Jan. 16, 2025 with Lynch on my mind.
I still had a fresh nibble of Twin Peaks on my tongue from this past Saturday and Sunday, like a weeping, warm bite of baked cherries washed down with tangy espresso.
Lately, my workday background noise has moved from campy reality TV to varying shades of horror movies. I was in the mood for something dark and sexy, so I made a plan. I wanted Fresh (2022) in the daylight, and something by David Lynch — Blue Velvet (1986) was my top pick — for the moonlight.
I had actually just added a bunch of his films to my Max watch list, and I knew a night viewing was preferable. The royal blues, the blushing reds, the billowing smoke, the perfumed flesh, the shimmering shadow: I knew it would look good on my TV in the urban dark.
We’ve been slammed with breaking news all week, so the morning ran away from me. “Well, at least I have a date with David Lynch tonight.”
By 3 p.m. I was dazed, dealing with the world’s immeasurable loss.
I was just going to see him…
That’s the way it always goes, right?
This week reminded me of December 2022.
On Christmas Eve, my parents, brother and I took a train up to misty Milan. Besides the Fondazione Prada, it was all for my brother really: He’s a hypebeast and literally in school for fashion design. My dad doesn’t do well when he’s out of his comfort zone, so he was a bear to deal with. My mom, normally a firebrand, wanted to keep the peace.
Dad couldn’t understand why I wanted to carve out just one path of my own on this trip — why I didn’t want to mindlessly follow my brother along to Slam Jam, to Givenchy, to the rest of minimalist, techwear-meets-streetwear fashion heaux hangouts.
I just needed to visit the Vivienne Westwood store. Please?
Freezing in my thin H&M squareneck bodysuit and thin DKNY leather maxi skirt, I made the pilgrimage to the store a little bit before closing. I felt raw elation purchasing my first designer pieces from the radiant, bubbly redhead who took a shine to me when I first stepped in. I bought Vivienne Westwood earrings, of course. Versatile. Affordable.
Iconic, as they were two different sets of glittering Saturns to pierce my lobe. The rose gold one had sharp pink jewels; the silver one also came with matching, dripping ear cuffs. I finally had my little slice of punk fashion history.
Viv left this mortal plane on Dec. 29, 2022.
Man, I had just seen her…
But the beautiful thing about dying, especially when you’re a true artist, is that you get to be seen forever if you’re lucky.
Especially when you’re a visionary and not just a performer, your soul gets to be seen forever.
Based on the outpourings of unanimous love I’ve witnessed in the past 24 hours, I can now confirm that it’s a gift to be seen — to have the most tenacious and complex parts of your soul revered around the world, forever.
If you’re in the United States, you can stream David Lynch: The Art of Life (2016) on Max. If you’re elsewhere, The Criterion Channel is offering it for free until Jan. 31, 2025.
loved getting to read the impact he had on you. the feeling is mutual! thank you for sharing!!!