David Lynch: 'The Grandmother' and a Lifetime of Dark Dreams

Photo: Alan Light (CC BY 2.0)
David Lynch, who died on January 16, was an artist in every sense of the word. He had accomplished quite a bit during his 78-year lifespan, including, but not limited to:
- Bringing surrealism into prime time television with Twin Peaks (and again with Twin Peaks: The Return)
- Twisting and redefining the film noir genre with works such as Blue Velvet, Lost Highway, and Mulholland Drive.
- Composing and producing numerous music albums both ethereal and striking.
- Publishing books about his life, Transcendental Meditation which he practiced, and helping others obtain their own ideas, while also inspiring countless publications on his own oeuvre.
- Streaming into millions of homes his Los Angeles weather reports of “blue skies and golden sunshine.”
- Creating works (that include all of the above) that are so unique in tone and atmosphere that a new adjective of his namesake has been added to the cultural lexicon.
(All circulating materials linked above are available to borrow from the Library.)
One of the most unique things about Lynch is how he was able to combine different mediums into a work and have each element stand out on its own. His 1970 short film, The Grandmother, which is available to watch at the Library for the Performing Arts as part of the Reserve Film and Video Collection, not only showcases Lynch’s cinematic skills, but also his work in the fine arts. Starting out as a painter, Lynch originally left the United States to go study in Europe with Austrian artist Oskar Kokoschka. His intent was to stay there for three years—he came back in 15 days. Lynch, wanting to create moving paintings, became interested in filmmaking and created hybrid experimental works such as Six Men Getting Sick and The Alphabet. The Grandmother is Lynch’s first attempt at a narrative.
A surrealist fairy tale in a way only Lynch could create, the film tells of a young boy who is abused by his feral parents and who literally grows a kindly grandmother on a bed. The woman is “born” from a tree-like sculpture in what may be one of the most graphic birthing scenes on celluloid. Much of what would be seen in future films—the ambient soundscapes, close-ups of abject terror, flashing lights—is seen here. The sound designer and editor, Alan Splet, would go on to create another aural world with Lynch in his feature debut, Eraserhead (1977). In one instance, when the boy uses a watering can on a pile of soil upon a bed, we hear not a trickle but a thundercloud followed by a torrent of rain. The characters are a painted cadaver white, which strikingly pops against the black-coated background. Lynch also uses literal painting to illustrate some scenes: at one point the boy fantasizes about murdering his parents; this is all portrayed on canvas as the red paint gushes forth from the painted figures of mom and dad. All of these images bring to mind the grotesque work of Francis Bacon, whom Lynch greatly admired.
The Grandmother is a work that bridges Lynch’s fine arts and short films with his full-length features. It is a cadaver white, pitch black, and blood red signal of what would come over the next 50 years. Shot on 16mm, this is also still the best way to see this film. The dark room and the whirring projector combined with the heightened images and sounds from the screen make for an experience that can only be described as “Lynchian.”
The Library for the Performing Arts’ Reserve Film and Video Collection is proud to have The Grandmother on 16mm, ready to be discovered by any patron for free. All films may be viewed by appointment at the Library for the Performing Arts. Email lparfvc@nypl.org for more information.