This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. The best you could say about Twin Peaks was that it was “weird.” But the guy who sells you milk at the corner is “weird.” So are breath strips and Southern comedians. His most eye-grabbing work, the ABC series Twin Peaks, compelled viewers to figure out the meaning behind the show’s moody Northern tableau and dysfunctional characters, but, in the end, one left with the impression that no measure of endless pines, code-talking housewives or dream-sequence dwarfs could compensate for the show’s lack of heart. In retrospect, Lynch’s oeuvre is to cutting-edge art what Jefferson Airplane were to psychedelia. The independent TV and film director was once responsible for bringing surreal characters, pan-sexuality and drug and occult subtexts - and dwarfs - to mainstream art, but he’s long been eclipsed by cable programs from True Blood to Breaking Bad as well as the work of David Fincher and Darren Arronofsky. If Creed and Jim Carrey were responsible for the greatest number of ’90s crimes, the work of David Lynch falls somewhere between Jerry McGuire and the Atlanta Olympics. His name was Ricky.All of this brings us to David Lynch, a ’90s man if there ever was one. Not that you need a reissue to know which way the wind blows, but recent Pearl Jam and Nirvana 20th anniversary relaunches point to forthcoming Saturday Night Live sketches parodying Saturday Night Live sketches: Mike Myers’ and Kurt Cobain’s grunge chic Starbucks coffees the size of pylons and TV shows about alien-chasers and friends repenting for the sins of their ’80s excess. Manage Print Subscription / Tax Receipt.
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