If Lana Del Rey’s music had to be defined by one drive (other than driving fast), it would be the pursuit of freedom. Inextricably tied to the failed promise of America, Lana’s conception of freedom is lawless, wild, and always elusive. Continue reading
Who among us can deny the alluring draw of golf carts circling and darting here and there in formation set to the rhythm of their instructor’s whistle and shouted directions, “Ted! Ted!!”? Certainly not me. Only a couple seconds into Lance Oppenheim’s intoxicating documentary Some Kind of Heaven, which opens with the faint sounds of … Continue reading
*jingle jangle jingle jangle* Oh why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams fanatics! Do you hear what I hear? Are those bells? Are they tolling for us? Well, hell’s bells! I guess it’s time to start ringing in the New Year! Ah…2020. Do we even need a look back? I don’t know about you, but to … Continue reading
Well, hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! What’s that? You’re bored after ten-ish weeks of quarantine? Is that how long it’s been?!!! What month is it? I thought it was still March! Or May! Or November! And I know. I know. It’s just so difficult to be in lockdown, sheltering in place, staying at home, … Continue reading
David Lynch’s short film released on Netflix, What Did Jack Do?, works as both a gift to Lynch fans and a troll on Netflix viewers. In the film, Lynch portrays a detective who diligently interrogates a monkey suspected of homicide. Shot in black and white, Lynch stages a minimal scenery: a table top illuminated by … Continue reading
David Lynch has never sold out. I know using the term “sell out” makes me sound like an angry Goth kid furiously smoking behind the school dumpsters yelling “POSEURS” at anyone who walks by in the wrong band T-shirt. Hey, if the shoe fits. But when we live in a time when outsiders desperately want … Continue reading
Can Band-Aids be beautiful? Yes, those uncannily flesh-colored, rubbery, sticky and potentially slimy strips that cover any number of sores, scratches, abrasions and ruptures. When singular, Band-Aids are startling, but bunched together, they coagulate into a congealed mass, yellowing with slough, dead skin, sweat, and scabs. Physically repulsive, tactically terrible, sure. But, aren’t they just … Continue reading
In his text Transcendental Style in Film, the critic turned auteur Paul Schrader observed a formal connection between several mid-1900s filmmakers, particularly Yasujirô Ozu, Robert Bresson and Carl Thedor Dreyer. “Transcendental film,” Schrader argues, “seeks to maximize the mystery of existence; it eschews all conventional interpretations of reality: realism, psychologism, romanticism, expressionism, and finally, rationalism.” … Continue reading
This week, a clip from the production of Twin Peaks: The Return was resurrected and made the rounds on Twitter, featuring auteur David Lynch losing his proverbial shit over the rapid manner in which directors are expected to work in today’s film and TV industry. Lynch being Lynch, he didn’t care about simple budget concerns or time constraints, eventually yelling in his folksy tone while angrily drawing on a cigarette, “We never get to go dreamy or anything!” Continue reading
Why hello there, faithful Filthy Dreams readers! What’s that? You’re in the mood to rank moments from the past year with no real basis except for your own fervently subjective but strongly felt opinions? Me too! I’m ready to get zealous and list, wrap-up and rank anything and everything that happened in 2018 with fanatical … Continue reading