David Lynch (1946-2025)The Red Curtain draws on one of cinema’s true masters.

There are filmmakers who redefine the movie-going experience and those who reshape it. David Lynch did both. He remains one of the most important filmmakers and certainly one of the most unique, risk-taking, and singular visionaries to ever pick up a movie camera. When critics discuss films that push the boundaries of the medium, Lynch’s name is inescapable.

Are David Lynch films and shows everyone’s cup of tea? Hardly. If you’ve ever watched a Lynch film and thought, I don’t get it, you’d be excused. But that was the secret of his work—he didn’t care if you got it. Sometimes, even he didn’t get it. These were ideas in his head, and rather than force them into conventional storytelling, he let his instincts guide him.

Discovering Lynch

My formative years were the 1980s, and as a film buff, I had heard of “Eraserhead” but had no idea what it was about. I recall “The Elephant Man” arriving in 1980, but my parents thought I’d be bored by a black-and-white film. They had so much to learn about me.

I first became aware of David Lynch with “Dune” (1984), a box-office disaster but a fascinating film. I loved the book and eagerly awaited the adaptation. Despite poor reviews, my father and I saw it opening weekend. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either—just strange and occasionally good. There were moments of undeniable Lynchian oddness, and though it would never be the high point of his career, it remains a cult classic.

The moment I indeed became a Lynch fan was in 1985 at the Somerville Theater in Massachusetts. My mother and I attended a double feature: “The Man Who Fell to Earth” and “Eraserhead.” If “The Man Who Fell to Earth” was odd, “Eraserhead” was a whole new level of strange. It was dark, surreal, and deeply unsettling, like nothing I had ever seen. My mother and I laughed uncontrollably at the baby’s introduction—if you’ve seen it, you understand. We thought that would be the pinnacle of weirdness, but the film just kept getting stranger.

I’d be lying if I said I loved “Eraserhead” on first viewing. But understanding and liking a Lynch film isn’t the point—staying power is. And “Eraserhead” had staying power. Soon, I was buying an “Eraserhead” t-shirt at Newbury Comics and hunting down “The Elephant Man” on video. Lynch’s films weren’t just different; they were singular. And from then on, I wouldn’t miss a single one.

‘Blue Velvet’ and ‘Twin Peaks’

In 1986, Lynch rebounded from “Dune” with “Blue Velvet,” a dark, subversive look at small-town America’s seedy underbelly. It previewed ideas he would later cultivate in “Twin Peaks,” the show that redefined network television. “Blue Velvet” had a strong narrative structure, but you never forgot you were in Lynch territory. It was with this film that the term “Lynchian was likely born.

Watching “Blue Velvet” in Harvard Square, I felt more unnerved than enamored. I knew I had seen something great, but its disturbing nature left me uneasy. It took repeat viewings to truly appreciate its dark humor and brilliance. Kyle MacLachlan, who debuted in “Dune,” became “cool” in my eyes after “Blue Velvet,”setting the stage for his iconic role as as Agent Cooper in “Twin Peaks.”

When “Twin Peaks” debuted in 1990, it was a sensation. Everyone at college was talking about it. The mystery of who killed Laura Palmer became an obsession, and Lynch became our hero. Though he directed only a few episodes, his influence permeated the entire series. It’s hard to imagine shows like “Severance” without “Twin Peaks” paving the way.

Between “Twin Peaks” seasons, Lynch directed “Wild at Heart” (1990), an uneven but essential film for his fans. Then came “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me” (1992), initially panned but now regarded as one of his masterworks. “Lost Highway” (1997) followed, improving with age, and then “The Straight Story” (1999), his most conventional film yet still distinctly Lynchian.

‘Mulholland Drive’: The masterpiece

As the new millennium approached, Lynch announced a new TV series, “Mulholland Drive.” ABC greenlit a pilot, hated it, and canceled the project. But Lynch, ever resourceful, reworked it into a feature film. The result? His masterpiece.

Some films take a few viewings to digest. I knew “Mulholland Drive” was a masterpiece the moment it ended. People in the theater lingered, talking to strangers, trying to piece together what they had just seen. It was one of those rare film experiences that sticks with you. Starring Naomi Watts and Justin Theroux, in star-making performances, the film remains an engaging puzzle box, still being deciphered more than two decades later. It is my top film of the millennium.

After “Mulholland Drive,” Lynch’s “Inland Empire” (2006) pushed his dream-logic storytelling to its extreme. If you thought “Eraserhead” was the strangest film you’d ever seen, “Inland Empire” is the “royal flush” of unusual. It is more a collection of ideas than a structured story, but it still contains moments of pure Lynchian brilliance. Fans hoped he would keep making movies, but Lynch remained largely quiet for a decade.

‘Twin Peaks: The Return’

Then, in 2017, Lynch gave us “Twin Peaks: The Return.” When he announced the revival, I was ecstatic—this 18-episode epic, his magnum opus, towered above almost anything else on television. Lynch directed every episode, discarding nostalgia for the original series in favor of something darker, stranger, and more foreboding. Episode 8 remains the most remarkable single episode of television I may ever see. The series’ final moment leaves viewers with a chilling impression, one fans have debated since.

The world of film and television has lost an irreplaceable force. There will never be another David Lynch movie—no surprise new season of “Twin Peaks.” The originality Lynch brought to cinema and TV over nearly 79 years is all we will ever have. He’s gone to that magical waiting room with the black-and-white zigzag floor and red curtains in the sky. Perhaps his spirit will join the forest owls lurking behind the alley of a Winkie’s diner or tucked away inside a mysterious blue box. And when you hear the clunk and whistle of the heat coming through the vents, listen closely—maybe you’ll detect the faint noise of the woman in the radiator singing “In Heaven”, and Lynch will be singing alongside her.

As Monica Bellucci recites in “Twin Peaks: The Return”: “We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream.” And in our dreams, we will find Lynch again and again.

May Lynch’s work continue to inspire generations of filmmakers and viewers. His impact isn’t limited to cinema and television—his surrealist art, music, and even his philosophy on creativity and transcendental meditation have left an indelible mark too. While we mourn his passing, his spirit lives on in the art he left behind. The Lynchian world remains as alive and mysterious as ever, waiting for new audiences to enter and explore its depths.

James Kent is the publisher’s assistant at The Mountain Times, and is the co-host of the “Stuff We’ve Seen” podcast at stuffweveseen.com.