Zack el Muad'dib

What can be said about David Lynch that hasn’t already been captured in countless tributes by fans and filmmakers? A director of singular vision, defined by his magical style and fascinating ambiguities. Though his work is one of a kind, he has inspired many to pick up a camera. While my work may not seem particularly "Lynchian," his influence always looms large. One transition in Blue Velvet — Frank Booth disappearing from frame before a wild nighttime trip with yellow road markings whizzing by — buzzes in my brain forever. In 2011, I had a glorious encounter with the man himself. At the time, I was programming films at the New Beverly Cinema for a season called "The Wright Stuff," curating dream double bills and arranging guest discussions. One night, we screened ‘Wild at Heart’ and ‘True Romance’. I had already convinced the late producer Steve Golin to join for the first film, and, through a mutual friend, invited Laura Dern too. She agreed but warned she might not make it, as she was coming straight from an event. Steve and I introduced the film and waited to see if Laura would arrive. As the credits rolled, my publicist Greg Longstreet tapped me on the shoulder: “Laura’s coming,” he said. Relieved, I got onstage for the Q&A. As the curtain to the backstage rustled, I announced to the unsuspecting audience: “Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Laura Dern!” The audience erupted as she walked through the curtain. Thrilled, I said, “This is a great surprise. I wasn’t sure you’d make it!” Laura smiled and replied, “Well, I have a surprise for you. I brought someone else who worked on the movie.” Then, stepping through the curtain, was David Lynch. The resulting standing ovation felt endless, as if the Wizard of Oz himself had materialized. The only downside? I wasn’t ready to interview David Fucking Lynch. I stumbled through my first question, but he was kind and gracious. While he avoided explaining the film (rightly so), he spoke generously about film and the preservation of cinema . His presence was otherworldly, yet down-to-earth. That memory of him stepping through the curtain will stay with me forever. David may be gone, but his work will be eternal.