#Lobotomy Room

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Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends celebrating!

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Distressing news in The Independent today:

“David Lynch has revealed he can no longer leave his house since being diagnosed with emphysema. The director of films including Eraserhead and Mulholland Drive, who created and starred in Twin Peaks, shared the revelation in a new interview about his career. Speaking to Sight & Sound magazine, Lynch, 78, said he was diagnosed with emphysema due to smoking throughout his life and said that, if he directs again, it will have to be remotely as he cannot “go out” due to fears he will get Covid. “I’ve gotten emphysema from smoking for so long and so I’m homebound whether I like it or not. It would be very bad for me to get sick, even with a cold,” he said, revealing that he “can only walk a short distance before” he’s “out of oxygen.” It’s because of this that Lynch says it is unlikely he will direct again, but if he does, he will be unable to do so in person. However, while saying “I would do it remotely if it comes to it”, he said: “I wouldn’t like that so much.””

For Lynch fans, this is obviously deeply saddening (and explains his low profile in recent years). If Inland Empire (2006) represents his last feature film and Twin Peaks: The Return (2017) his final artistic statement, Lynch’s career is ending on a creative high.

Update on this: Lynch has since posted this statement on Twitter. “Ladies and Gentlemen. Yes, I have emphysema from my many years of smoking. I have to say that I enjoyed smoking very much, and I do love tobacco - the smell of it, lighting cigarettes on fire, smoking them - but there is a price to pay for this enjoyment, and the price for me is emphysema. I have now quit smoking for over two years. Recently I had many tests, and the good news is that I am in excellent shape except for emphysema. I am filled with happiness, and I will never retire. I want you all to know that I really appreciate your concern. Love, David.” It’s worth bearing in mind Lynch is a multimedia artist so even if he never directs a film again (which let's face it, is likely) he'll still paint (for example), and he DID just release a fascinating new album called Cellophane Memories.

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Born 80 years ago today: indelibly flaming and charismatic leading man in the early “gutter films” of John Waters - David Lochary (21 August 1944 – 29 July 1977), infamous for his performances as Mr. David in Multiple Maniacs (1970), Raymond Marble in Pink Flamingos (1972) and Donald Dasher in Female Trouble (1974) (pictured here with Mary Vivian Pearce as Donna Dasher). Did anyone ever portray debonair perverts better? And let’s remember that it was Lochary who set a young Harris Glenn Milstead (the future Divine) on his path when they met at beauty school. As per Lochary’s Wikipedia page: “Divine later commented that he had "never even heard the word 'drag' before David."” Pic via.

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The word of the day is GUILTY.

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Happy Pride Month! (Pictured: Anna Nicole Smith at Los Angeles Pride, 2005).

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A portrait of two punk survivors! Apparently, this shot represents the first reunion between 65-year-old Siouxsie Sioux and 67-year-old Billy Idol – two original members of the early Sex Pistols fanatics dubbed “The Bromley Contingent” – in 32 years. Two words: Punk. Royalty! This was taken in Los Angeles, where Sioux is due to perform in the Cruel World festival. Via the Louderthanwar website.

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Happy World Goth Day (22 May 2024)!

The Addams Family

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Prepare for an onslaught of ultra-kitsch Easter posts this weekend!

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Born on this day: old money American socialite (first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy and Princess Lee Radziwill), bold fashion risk-taker, raccoon and feral cat enthusiast, devoted daughter, frustrated cabaret chanteuse and genuine eccentric Edith Bouvier Beale (aka “Little Edie”, 7 November 1917 - 14 January 2002). This woman, her equally idiosyncratic mother Edith Ewing Bouvier (“Big Edie”) and the documentary Grey Gardens (1975) are an endless source of inspiration. Pictured: Polaroid portrait of Edie by Andy Warhol, 1976.

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“She had a tough life. She said to me once, “I wouldn't have minded if I’d gone to jail. I think that would be a nice place to retire.” And she wasn't kidding. They would take care of her. Wow, Edie – aim higher! But she was in jail – she wasn't someone you’d ever imagine had been in jail, because if there was ever a person without a mean bone in her body, it was Edith. Except when she drank: then she’d turn completely and get mean. “I hate eggs!” I only saw her drunk a couple of times. She knew it wasn't a good idea.” / John Waters reminiscing about Edith Massey in my epic 2010 interview with him for Nude magazine /

Snaggle-toothed punk granny, thrift shop proprietress and “outsider actress” Edith “Edie” Massey (28 May 1918 - 24 October 1984) – perhaps the most beloved of all John Waters’ freaky repertory troupe of actors – died on this day forty years ago. Massey made her film debut in Waters’ early “gutter film” Multiple Maniacs (1970). Her final appearance (for Waters) was as cleaning lady-turned-debutante Cuddles Kovinsky in Polyester (1981). Massey’s most treasured performances – as Mama Edie the Egg Lady in Pink Flamingos (1972), Aunt Ida in Female Trouble (1974) and Queen Carlotta in Desperate Living (1977) – will live forever. Massey and Divine onscreen together is probably my all-time favourite comedy double act (like Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz for freaks and punks). Crank up “Punks Get off the Grass” (or her covers of “Fever” or “Big Girls Don’t Cry”), eat a hard-boiled egg and use “rah sha sha” in a sentence today in Massey’s honour.

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“Veronica Lake became one of the notable myth figures of 40s cinema because of her trademark hairstyle, long blonde hair constantly falling over one eye and constantly being brushed back … her look was so much imitated by factory girls that the government asked Paramount to change the style until after the war, as it was causing too many accidents. Lake had much more going for her than just her hair. She had a husky voice, sultry looks and an off-hand, casual manner that made her the sexiest star of the war years. She was teamed with Alan Ladd in five films, creating the kind of chemistry later generated by Bogart and Bacall … She didn’t make many good films – Paramount virtually discarded her after the war – but her best ones are dandies.”

/ From The Illustrated Encyclopedia of The World’s Great Movie Stars by Ken Wlaschin, 1979 /

Born on this day: impudent film noir bad girl and hard-drinking troublemaker Veronica Lake (née Constance Frances Marie Ockelman, 14 November 1922 – 7 July 1973). Dubbed “Moronica Lake” by Raymond Chandler, the pocket-sized Venus with the famous peekaboo ash blonde mane was 4’11” of pure badittude with an onscreen persona that set the template for later noir blondes like Lauren Bacall and Lizabeth Scott. I revisited Lake’s 1970 tell-all memoirs (Veronica: The Autobiography of Veronica Lake) a few years ago. It was considered explosive hot stuff at the time but read today it’s surprisingly dull (heavy on the show biz anecdotes and score-settling) and mainly notable for Lake’s eccentricity, her frankness about her post-Hollywood poverty and alcoholism and her casual indifference towards her four children. (She died aged 51 of acute hepatitis). Lake’s performances in Sullivan’s Travels (1941) and I Married a Witch (1942) are essential.

Portrait of Veronica Lake, 1942

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Fun couple: a young Adam Ant (wearing a provocative Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood-designed t-shirt) and punk high priestess Siouxsie Sioux (draining a can of Carlsberg!) snapped backstage at The Music Machine venue in London by Ray Stevenson in 1977. Pop’s Prince Charming and King of the Wild Frontier Monsieur Ant (né Stuart Leslie Goddard, 3 November 1954) turns seventy today.

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“Oh, dead punk lady with the knack / Of looking fierce in pins and black / The suburbs wouldn’t want you back …” from the poem “The Victim” by Thom Gunn (1929 – 2004).

Died on this day 46 years ago under murky, disputed circumstances at New York’s Chelsea Hotel: doomed bad girl, go-go dancer, groupie, scenemaker (and troublemaker), one half of punk’s most infamous couple – Nancy Spungen (27 February 1958 – 12 October 1978). For what it’s worth, the consensus is increasingly that Sid Vicious didn’t kill Spungen. Pictured: Spungen with Linda Ashby at Vicious’ first concert with the Sex Pistols, Notre Dame Hall in London on 21 March 1977.

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Hagsploitation truly is the horror sub-genre that keeps on giving. Sparked by the unexpected success of 1962’s What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? in the 1960s and 70s, maturing female stars of golden age Hollywood extended their careers by swallowing their pride, embracing their inner scream queen and plunging into exploitation shockers: think of Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Tallulah Bankhead, Olivia de Havilland, Agnes Moorehead and Shelley Winters starring in the likes of Strait-Jacket, Hush … Hush … Sweet Charlotte, Berserk, Lady in a Cage, Die Die My Darling, Dear Dead Delilah and especially the “question movies” Whoever Slew Auntie Roo?, What’s the Matter with Helen? and What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? Roaring back from career doldrums (I last remember her playing Miley Cyrus’ mother), 61-year-old Demi Moore finds herself in a similar position in director Coralie Fargeat’s grisly and stylish satire The Substance. In a gutsy, exposed (in every sense) performance, Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle, a middle-aged television celebrity abruptly fired by ageist and sexist network executive Dennis Quaid (really chomping the scenery). Despondent, Elisabeth takes desperate measures to rejuvenate her “best self” with a mysterious unregulated black market scientific procedure called The Substance … and things swiftly unravel. Characterized by stunning art direction and a visceral sound design that emphasizes every repulsive squelching noise, The Substance ratchets up maximum dread and offers a goldmine of knowing movie references: Basket Case. Carrie. Death Becomes Her. Every single David Cronenberg “body horror” flick but particularly The Fly. Thematically, it reminded me of two specific b-movies from the late 1950s: The Wasp Woman and The Leech Woman, in which the anti-heroine experiments with science (or voodoo) to restore youth and beauty with monstrous consequences (and – it must be noted - these films make their point with a fraction of The Substance’s budget and two hour-and 40-minute running time). The Substance is bound to be divisive. There was multiple “walk outs” when I saw it. And has Fargeat lost control of the material by the ultra-gory splatter fest finale? However you cut it, it’s a wild ride and destined for cult status.

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As usual, Marge speaks for me.

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“The chemistry of the cast sets this film apart and makes it Waters’ most collaborative and, yes, spiritual work. It was the film they were all put on Earth to make, the culmination of a collective vision … For Female Trouble Waters functioned more as a psychic medium than a movie director, populating his all-American disaster story with a large moveable feast of cast, crew, friends and oddball “discoveries”, tapping into the spirit of a specific rebel milieu in Baltimore. Then he spiked it with energy, attitude and weirdness, and zapped it to life. After that he was just a filmmaker again.” Essay by Jack Stevenson in Little Joe Number 5 (2015). “Where do these people come from? Where do they go when the sun goes down? Isn't there a law or something?” Film critic Rex Reed. Fifty years ago on this day (4 October 1974) in cult cinema history, John Waters’ endlessly quotable defining meisterwerk Female Trouble was unleashed into cinemas – and for many of us, life would never be the same! (Note: some sources list 11 October). Pictured: leading lady Divine as anti-heroine Dawn Davenport – the role she was born to play. Now sing along with me: “They say I'm insane / But I don't care / Go ahead, put me in your 'lectric chair …”