#alan splet

[postpunkindustrial]

David Lynch and Alan Spelt - Eraserhead Soundtrack

[rpfisfine]

[olipeaksforever]

Lynchian: A playlist.

Inspired by the work of David Lynch.

Including: Angelo Badalamenti, Santo & Johnny, Mazzy Star, Linda Scott, Otis Redding, Bobby Vinton, Ethel Cain, Suicide, Cabaret Voltaire, David Lynch & Alan R. Splet, The Cure, Rebekah Del Rio, Chris Isaak, Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails, This Mortal Coil, Beach House, Cocteau Twins & Harold Budd and Julee Cruise.

[gratisdiamanten]

Thanks @mysticaltorque for the tag! Can’t format like you are cause I’m on mobile and underlining is for some reason AWOL.

What are five songs you’ve been listening to?

Duk Koo Kim by Sun Kil Moon

Sometimes moody early 00s rock hits the spot when I’m trying to get into a groove with writing, and this one does especially well for ones where I’m trying to write that moody drifting late 20s male protagonist who can’t grasp the influence of the grown-ups in his teenage years had on him etc etc. I like this one when I’m trying to write Mathieu in particular. Just vibes, no analysis.

Starshine by LSD and the Search for God

Similar reasons with more of a hypnotic tone to them, and I use it more with Primož.

In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song) by David Lynch/Alan Splet

You’re probably noticing the pattern now that I mostly like slower moody songs with slight surrealist elements here and there haha (not clear in the song itself but because of its context in Eraserhead). It’s also got a faint sensual edge to it that’s fun also.

Gently Johnny by The Woodbine and Ivy Band

The Wicker Man’s song for people fucking but if the tone itself was an order of magnitude more horny. Specific genre of song I like is music from horror movies that is horny and/or folk music that is horny. Hope this helps 👍

09-15-00 by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Incredible dark instrumental post-rock piece by the pros; 09-15-00 refers (albeit incorrectly) to when Ariel Sharon (a Likud—right wing—politician visited Al-Aqsa/the Temple Mount with 1,000 armed police officers, prompting the Second Intifada). The track itself contains no explicit political content and serves to effectively get your hackles up with artistry alone. Really unsettling and good piece with a good build.

I’ll tag @jantratnik and @flourbray on this one next!

[jedivoodoochile]

El hombre elefante (David Lynch, 1980). La segunda película de David Lynch, sigue considerándose, 43 años después de su estreno, una rara avis dentro de su filmografía. Un biopic de época, una historia basada en hechos reales acerca de una de las figuras más legendarias de la era victoriana que aparentemente poco tiene que ver con los ejercicios surreales que el cineasta de Montana ha ido desarrollando desde Cabeza borradora (1976) hasta Twin Peaks The Return (2017). Un trabajo que el propio Lynch admite haber aceptado tras darse cuenta de que si quería introducirse en la industria, su ópera prima, convertida con el paso de los años y gracias a las midnight sessions en objeto de culto, no servía como carta de presentación.

De lo que si sirvió Cabeza borradora fue para llamar la atención del productor ejecutivo de Mel Brooks, Stuart Cornfeld, que tras ver el primer largometraje de David Lynch en su estreno en el cine Nuart de Los Ángeles dijo de ella que “…era lo mejor que le había pasado en la vida. Una experiencia purificadora”. Acto seguido, Cornfeld se puso en contacto con David Lynch y este le propuso un guion en el que llevaba trabajando un tiempo, Ronnie Rocket. Un proyecto en el que el cineasta había puesto todo su empeño -y del que gran parte acabó luego dentro de su regreso a Twin Peaks- y que no consiguieron que ningún estudio aceptara. Lynch, angustiado por la posibilidad de no volver a poder realizar un largometraje, le pidió a Cornfeld que le buscara scripts para que pudiera dirigir. Cornfeld le propuso tres guiones. El primero de ellos era el libreto de El hombre elefante, obra de los guionistas Christopher De Vore y Eric Bergren. En cuanto Lynch escuchó el título, no quiso saber nada de los otros dos proyectos. Ese era el trabajo que quería convertir en su segundo largometraje.

Pero aunque Cornfeld estaba decidido a que Lynch dirigiera la cinta, Mel Brooks prefería al británico Alan Parker. Pero Cornfeld consiguió convencerle para que tuvieran una reunión, y así, Brooks se dio cuenta de que Lynch era el director indicado, además de redefinirle como “El Jimmy Stewart de Marte”. Una vez que Lynch fue contratado, marchó a Londres con un equipo ajeno a la troupé de su artesanal y familiar ópera prima, en el que por ejemplo su director de fotografía Frederick Elmes fue sustituido por Freddie Francis, con el que volvería a trabajar en su segundo y último acercamiento al mainstream, Dune (1984). La única excepción fue su técnico de sonido, Alan Splet, que introdujo el ambiente sonoro industrial de Cabeza borradora en los callejones del Londres victoriano.

Lo mismo ocurrió con el casting de la obra, impuesto por la productora de Mel Brooks y repleta de actores ingleses, entre los que destacaban Anthony Hopkins como el médico Frederick Treves, John Hurt como John Merrick (el hombre elefante), John Gielgud como Carr Gomm o Freddie Jones como Bytes. Este último sería el único actor del reparto que repetiría con el cineasta, en Dune (1984) y Corazón salvaje (1990). Del resto del reparto principal, son conocidas las continuas peleas entre Lynch y Hopkins, ya que este último no confiaba en el director debido a su inexperiencia. Más cordial fue la relación entre Hurt y Lynch, desde el proceso de casting -para el que también se presentó Dustin Hoffman- como en el proceso de rodaje, a pesar de algunos momentos de tensión cuando Lynch pretendió convertir la producción en lo más artesanal posible, realizando él mismo el maquillaje para caracterizar a Hurt en John Merrick. El fracaso en la aplicación del maquillaje por parte del propio cineasta en el rostro y cuerpo de Hurt fue solventado con la entrada del especialista Chris Tucker.

En lo que sí pudo introducir Lynch su sello en las primeras etapas de la producción fue en la reescritura del guion. El libreto original de De Vore y Bergren carecía del drama necesario en el tercer acto del filme, ya que en el mundo real, la vida de John Merrick tras su llegada al hospital donde fue cuidado hasta su fallecimiento, fue un remanso de paz. En cambio, en el guion reescrito por Lynch, este introduce las torturas físicas y psicológicas nocturnas y su regreso al circo de freaks donde fue recogido por el médico Frederick Treves. Pero además de los cambios en el relato, Lynch introduce a una película aparentemente academicista y clásica en su concepción, elementos de su trabajo previo y apuntes de lo que será su filmografía posterior.

En su superficie, El hombre elefante aparenta ser una clásica y conservadora producción de prestigio para la temporada de premios estadounidenses. Un reparto de flema británico, un relato narrado linealmente, un fastuoso diseño de producción que introduce al espectador en la atmósfera de la Inglaterra de finales del XIX y un score de John Morris con reminiscencias -sobre todo en sus primeros acordes- de la suite de El Padrino (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972), compuesta por Nino Rota. No es de extrañar que la cinta fuera una de las candidatas principales en la temporada de premios y fuera nominada a ocho Oscars de la Academia -entre ellos el de mejor película y mejor director- aunque finalmente se fuera de vacío. Pero bajo esa superficie clásica y académica -quizá el trabajo que más ha creado concordia entre público generalista y amantes del cine de Lynch- el segundo largometraje del director esconde apuntes y toques de su particular manera de entender el arte audiovisual.

Solo hay que fijarse en su prólogo y epílogo, nacimiento y muerte de John Merrick. Al principio, a partir de un rostro flotante y superpuesto sobre un cielo estrellado -recurso visual que enlazará a este trabajo con el inicio de Dune– el espectador es testigo de una extraña ensoñación donde el cineasta representa la gestación de Merrick, a partir del relato (entre lo legendario y lo onírico) transmitido por su madre ausente. Una secuencia onírica, que a partir de la concatenación y superposición de los planos trae al recuerdo no solo el inicio de Cabeza borradora -la superficie de un planeta alienígena que no es más que el exterior de la mente de Henry Spencer, el protagonista de la misma- sino una perversa sugerencia, entre la concepción y la violación por parte de los elefantes a la madre de Merrick. Esto también recuerda a la recreación de la violación y muerte de Laura Palmer en la secuencia que da cierre al primer episodio de la segunda temporada de Twin Peaks, donde la recreación de la última noche de Laura Palmer -a partir de los recuerdos de Ronette Pulaski- es representado a partir de una puesta en escena que comparte est��tica y tono con el arranque de El hombre elefante. De idéntica manera, a lo largo de todo el metraje del filme, el rostro de la madre de Merrick acompaña tanto al protagonista de la cinta como al espectador, a partir de un retrato que atesora Merrick y que es registrado por la mirada del cineasta, con la misma liturgia que el retrato de reina del baile de Laura Palmer en Twin Peaks. Dos presencias, ambas de personajes fallecidos, que inundan y ahogan tanto la narración como los márgenes del celuloide.

De idéntica manera, la conclusión de la cinta, con el rostro de la madre de Merrick adscrita a un orbe flotante bajo el cielo nocturno del espacio, esperando a su hijo en la inmensidad de la eternidad, sirve como antecedente directo de dos momentos cruciales de Twin Peaks. En primer lugar, la muerte de Merrick, tan plácida como buscada por el propio Merrick para acabar con su sufrimiento, sirve de precedente al clímax de Twin Peaks: Fuego camina conmigo (1992), donde Laura se deja matar por su propio padre para conseguir algo de paz. Tanto Merrick como Laura son testigos, en sus últimos estertores, de una epifanía entre lo cósmico y lo religioso. Para rizar el rizo entre dos obras tan aparentemente opuestas, Merrick y el espectador ven el rostro de su madre observándole con ternura y delicadeza desde el interior de un orbe cósmico. Un orbe que en Twin Peaks The Return se convierte en elemento narrativo y conceptual de la obra, al introducir Lynch en el interior del mismo el retrato de Laura Palmer visto en las iteraciones precedentes del serial.

Otro elemento que Lynch introduce por primera vez en su obra es el del conflicto entre dos mundos. Una escisión que tan bien define el conjunto de la obra de Lynch la famosa frase de Paul Eluard: “Hay otros mundos, pero están en este”. Si en su ópera prima lo real se transformaba en una pesadilla de tintes surreales y kafkianos, monotonal en su desarrollo y ambientación, en El hombre elefante se divide entre los sórdidos ambientes de clase baja surgidos de la segunda revolución industrial y el mundo elevado de las clases aristocráticas de la Inglaterra victoriana. Ambos mundos surgidos de un ecosistema de humo, metal y fábricas que conformaron -como la bomba atómica que da origen al universo Twin Peaks- dos dimensiones que conviven sin rozarse en el Londres victoriano: las clases marginales de Whitechapel y la periferia londinense -lugar de ese circo subterráneo freak, heredero de la representación de Tod Browning en La parada de los monstruos (1932) del que surge John Merrick- y el mundo aristocrático al que pertenece Frederick Treves, donde la conversación, el arte y los rituales sociales son el centro de la existencia. No es casual que el incidente incitador de la trama sea ese choque entre dos mundos: el descubrimiento de Frederick Treves de El hombre elefante, en una secuencia que trae al recuerdo la primera aparición de Boris Karloff en el Frankenstein (1931) de James Whale.

Una secuencia cuya puesta en escena -Frederick Treves introduciéndose en el inframundo de las clases populares- se erige como precursora de la odisea del agente Cooper en el capítulo final del Twin Peaks original. Un laberinto de límites y geografía espacio-temporal imprecisa, que luego será desarrollada en mayor profundidad tanto en las siguientes evoluciones y revoluciones de Twin Peaks, como en otros trabajos emblemáticos del cineasta. A destacar: el descubrimiento del tenebroso y seductor otro lado del aparentemente luminoso Lumberton por parte de Jeffrey Beaumont desde la intimidad del armario del apartamento de Dorothy Valence en Terciopelo azul (1986) o la pérdida de conciencia temporal y espacial de Fred Madison en esa vivienda de cortinas rojas infinitas que sirven de trasunto de su mente escindida y fracturada, fortaleza de sus más sucios secretos, en Carretera perdida (1996).

Pero también El hombre elefante con la que un cineasta alternativo como Lynch se introdujo en el circuito del cine de estudios, sirve al artista multidisciplinar para aprender y desarrollar su peculiar talento a partir de las formas y códigos del cine clásico. Porque El hombre elefante hunde sus raíces no solo en el cine melodramático clásico -Douglas Sirk mediante- con el que Lynch comienza su estudio milimétrico del dolor del alma a partir de los rostros en primer plano de John Merrick y aquellos que observan su monstruosidad física y belleza interna -una mirada agónica que llevará a su paroxismo en el episodio piloto de Twin Peaks o en el epílogo de Mulholland Drive (2001) – sino sobre todo en las maneras del cine mudo. Fundidos a negro entre secuencia y secuencia -e incluso entre plano y plano- que aportan una cualidad etérea y onírica a la realidad de lo narrado. Elementos todos ellos que servirán para profundizar e indagar en los límites entre independencia y sistema de estudios -de nuevo dos mundos en conflicto- que se encuentran sobre todo entre Terciopelo azul y Mulholland Drive hasta su vuelta a sus raíces más experimentales con Inland Empire (2006) y Twin Peaks The Return.

Unas raíces experimentales salidas de sus primeros cortometrajes y Cabeza borradora, cuya impronta permanece subrepticiamente en el interior de El hombre elefante. En primer lugar, a partir de la atmósfera sonora creada por Alan Splet, que inunda -sutilmente y por encima del sonido ambiente y los diálogos de la cinta y el score de John Morris- la aparentemente sin subterfugios puesta en escena directa y teatral del conjunto de la obra. A su vez, el terror industrial surgido en el cineasta tras pasar de vivir en la “idílica” Misoula -su Lumberton o Twin Peaks particular- a la tenebrosa e industrial Philadelphia en su juventud, un terror que hizo acto de presencia para quedarse en su ópera prima -casi un personaje más de la obra- continúa en El hombre elefante, como si esta cinta fuera un apéndice de la pesadilla de Henry Spencer, o una nueva reinterpretación de su delirio, momentos antes de morir. Todo ello potenciado por un uso del blanco y negro -al igual que en la película protagonizada por Jack Nance- con una intencionalidad alejada de lo retro y profundamente estilística y atmosférica, precursora de su trabajo como fotógrafo. Una obra que siempre se ha considerado como una curiosidad, una obra extraña dentro del conjunto de la obra de Lynch, pero que analizada y observada con perspectiva demuestra que junto a Cabeza borradora sirvió de campo de pruebas, punta de lanza y díptico, para construir al David Lynch que vino después.

Por Felipe Rodríguez Torres para Revista Mutaciones ➡️ n9.cl/5xglw 🎥🎞️❤️

[gsmattingly]

Review "The Elephant Man"

I watched "The Elephant Man" directed by David Lynch. The actors are excellemt. John Hurt plays John Merrick, the Elephant Man. The makeup took 7 hours to put on. Anthony Hopkins plays the role of Dr. Frederick Treves. Many other amazing actors worked on the film, including Sir John Gielgud, Anne Bancroft, Wendy Hiller, Freddie Jones and many others. Freddie Francis was the Director of Photography. The film was in b&w and was excellently shot. It really is lovely. I quite enjoyed this film and have seen it in the past numerous times. I suppose the only qualm I had with the film was a scene where a dream scene occurs and the strange factory sounds and visuals that are very representative of David Lynch is put in and I'm not sure if this is simply a signature or not for I wonder if it is a totally necessary scene. Some of the Lynch associated sounds occur in several other scenes in the film. However Alan Splet was a sound designer for this film and also worked on sound for David Lynch on Blue Velvet, Dune and Eraserhead so he might have had something to do with that sound.

This is the Blu-Release from Criterion and has a lot of interesting supplement material/interviews and I'm still going through that.

In the classic film list, They Shoot Pictures Don't They, it is at number 364. It also in in classic films lists from The New York Times, Empire and Mark Kermode.

Although the film is supposed to be close to the actual life of John Merrick there are a number of inaccuracies that don't entirely match up with reality, or so it seems.

[prettyhatsmachine]

Eraserhead OST by David Lynch & Alan Splet

[adscinema]

Eraserhead: Original Soundtrack Recording - David Lynch (1977)

https://www.sacredbonesrecords.com / https://www.davidlynchfoundation.org

[axxonn84]

David Lynch & Alan R. Splet: Eraserhead Original Soundtrack (1977 / 1982)

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

David Lynch and Alan R. Splet

Eraserhead Original Soundtrack

[brokehorrorfan]

Dune will be released on 4K Ultra HD and Blu-ray on August 31 via Arrow Video. Daniel Taylor designed the new artwork; the original poster is on the reverse side. A 4K UHD Steelbook with the original key art will also be available.

The 1984 adaptation of Frank Herbert's 1965 science fiction novel is written and directed by David Lynch (Twin Peaks, Mulholland Dr.). Kyle MacLachlan stars with Patrick Stewart, Brad Dourif, Dean Stockwell, Virginia Madsen, José Ferrer, Sting, Linda Hunt, and Max von Sydow.

Both 4K UHD and Blu-ray limited edition sets include a bonus Blu-ray disc loaded with extras, along with a 60-page book featuring writing in the film by Andrew Nette, Christian McCrea, and Charlie Brigden, and more, a double-sided poster, six mini lobby card reproductions, and a slipcase.

Dune has been newly restored in 4K from the original camera negative with original uncompressed stereo audio and DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround audio. Special features are listed below, where you can also get a look at the contents.

Special features:

Audio commentary by film historian Paul M. Sammon (new)

Audio commentary by Mike White of The Projection Booth podcast(new)

Impressions of Dune - 2003 making-of featurette with actor Kyle MacLachlan, producer Raffaella de Laurentiis, cinematographer Freddie Francis, editor Antony Gibbs, and more

Designing Dune - Production design featurette with production designer Anthony Masters

Dune FX - Special effects featurette

Dune Models & Miniatures - Model effects featurette

Dune Costumes - Costume design featurette

13 deleted scenes with introduction by producer Raffaella de Laurentiis

Destination Dune - 1983 promotion piece for publicity events

Theatrical trailers

TV spots

Image galleries

Bonus disc special features:

The Sleeper Must Awaken: Making Dune - Feature-length making-of documentary with cast and crew (new)

Beyond Imagination: Merchandising Dune - Merchandise featurette with The Toys That Made Us’ Brian Sillman (new)

Prophecy Fulfilled: Scoring Dune - Score featurette with Toto guitarist Steve Lukather, Toto keyboardist Steve Porcaro, and film music historian Tim Greiving (new)

Interview with make-up effects artist Giannetto de Rossi (new)

Interview with star Paul Smith

Interview with production coordinator Golda Offenheim

Interview with make-up effects artist Christopher Tucker

Also included:

60-page book featuring new writing on the film by Andrew Nette, Christian McCrea, and Charlie Brigden, a 1984 interview with sound designer Alan Splet, interview excerpts with director David Lynch from Chris Rodley’s Lynch on Lynch, and a Dune Terminology glossary

Double-sided fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Daniel Taylor

Six double-sided, postcard-sized lobby card reproductions

The year is 10,191, and four planets are embroiled in a secret plot to wrest control of the Spice Melange, the most precious substance in the universe and found only on the planet Arrakis. A feud between two powerful dynasties, House Atreides and House Harkonnen, is manipulated from afar by ruling powers that conspire to keep their grip on the spice. As the two families clash on Arrakis, Duke Atreides’ son Paul (Kyle MacLachlan, in his screen debut) finds himself at the center of an intergalactic war and an ancient prophecy that could change the galaxy forever.

[geekynerfherder]

'Dune' 4K bluray, in Deluxe 4K Steelbook, Standard 4K Steelbook, and Limited 4K Editions.

Deluxe 4K Steelbook Edition (£44.99) includes:

Brand new 4K restoration from the original camera negative

60-page perfect-bound book featuring new writing on the film by Andrew Nette, Christian McCrea and Charlie Brigden, an American Cinematographer interview with sound designer Alan Splet from 1984, excerpts from an interview with the director from Chris Rodley’s book Lynch on Lynch and a Dune Terminology glossary from the original release

100-page perfect-bound book featuring original pre-production concepts and designs by Anthony Masters and Ron Miller, and an interview with Masters from the film’s press kit

Large fold-out double-sided poster featuring original theatrical poster artwork

Six double-sided, postcard-sized lobby card reproductions

Limited edition SteelBook housed in Deluxe rigid packaging, both with original theatrical artwork

Standard 4K Steelbook Edition (£29.99) includes:

Brand new 4K restoration from the original camera negative

Limited edition SteelBook packaging featuring original theatrical artwork

Double-sided foldout poster with two choices of original theatrical artwork

Limited 4K Edition (£24.99) includes:

Brand new 4K restoration from the original camera negative

60-page perfect-bound book featuring new writing on the film by Andrew Nette, Christian McCrea and Charlie Brigden, an American Cinematographer interview with sound designer Alan Splet from 1984, excerpts from an interview with the director from Chris Rodley’s book Lynch on Lynch and a Dune Terminology glossary from the original release

Large fold-out double-sided poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Dániel Taylor

Six double-sided, postcard-sized lobby card reproductions

Limited edition packaging with reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Dániel Taylor

DISCS ONE & TWO - FEATURE & EXTRAS (BLU-RAY + 4K ULTRA HD BLU-RAY)

4K (2160p) UHD Blu-ray™ presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) and High Definition (1080p) Blu-ray presentation

Original uncompressed stereo audio and DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround audio

Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing

Brand new audio commentary by film historian Paul M. Sammon

Brand new audio commentary by Mike White of The Projection Booth podcast

Impressions of Dune, a 2003 documentary on the making of the film, featuring interviews with star Kyle MacLachlan, producer Raffaella de Laurentiis, cinematographer Freddie Francis, editor Antony Gibbs and many others

Designing Dune, a 2005 featurette looking back at the work of production designer Anthony Masters

Dune FX, a 2005 featurette exploring the special effects in the film

Dune Models & Miniatures, a 2005 featurette focusing on the model effects in the film

Dune Costumes, a 2005 featurette looking at the elaborate costume designs seen in the film

Thirteen deleted scenes from the film, with a 2005 introduction by Raffaella de Laurentiis

Destination Dune, a 1983 featurette originally produced to promote the film at conventions and publicity events

Theatrical trailers and TV spots

Extensive image galleries, including hundreds of still photos

DISC THREE – BONUS DISC (BLU-RAY)

The Sleeper Must Awaken: Making Dune, a brand new feature-length documentary by Ballyhoo Motion Pictures exploring the making of the film, featuring dozens of new and archive interviews with cast and crew

Beyond Imagination: Merchandising Dune, a brand new featurette exploring the merchandise created to promote the film, featuring toy collector/producer Brian Sillman (The Toys That Made Us)

Prophecy Fulfilled: Scoring Dune, a brand new featurette on the film’s music score, featuring interviews with Toto guitarist Steve Lukather, Toto keyboardist Steve Porcaro, and film music historian Tim Greiving

Brand new interview with make-up effects artist Giannetto de Rossi, filmed in 2020

Archive interview with production coordinator Golda Offenheim, filmed in 2003

Archive interview with star Paul Smith, filmed in 2008

Archive interview with make-up effects artist Christopher Tucker

*** EXTRAS STILL IN PRODUCTION AND SUBJECT TO CHANGE ***

On sale for pre-order now through Zavvi. (Release date August 30 2021)

[clandest1ne-g1rl]

dark academia playlist

for rainy days when the world seems to be only one, small, cozy, brown colored room big, nothing but you and your book, the sound of rain ticking on the roof drowned out by these tunes

I. dark red - steve lacy

II. gnossienne : No. 1 - erik satie, alexandre tharaud

III. weeping willow - gabrielle aapri

IV. comptine d’un autre été, l’après-midi - yann tiersen

V. little person - jon brion and Deanne Storey

VI. moonlight sonata - beethoven

VII. reflections - toshifumi hinata

VIII. eleonor rigby- the beatles

IX. scarborough fair - simon and garfunkel

X. tripoli - pinback

XI. song for caden - jon brion and deanne storey

XII. wuthering heights - kate bush

XIII. video games - lana del rey

XIV. greek god - conan gray

XV. california dreaming - the mamas and the papas

XVI. sickness - pinback

XVII. jenny again - tunng

XVIII. something you can’t return to - jon brion

XIX. libet’s delay - the caretaker

XX. black marble - collene

XXI. six forty seven - instupendo

XXII. STILL LIFE - sitcom

XXIII. in heaven (everything is fine) - Alan Splet

XXIV. 13 angels standing guard ‘round the side of your bed - Silver Mt Zion

XXV. piano one - jon brion

XXVI. babooshka - kate bush

XXVII. animal - sir chloe

XXVIII. locket - crumb

XXIX. the other girl - the young veins

XXX. only in my dreams - the marías

XXXI. your woman - white town

XXXII. imagine - john lennon

XXXIII. golden brown - the stranglers

XXXIV. acts of man - midlake

XXXV. porqué te vas? - jeanette

XXXVI. space oddity - david bowie

XXXVII. necromancer - joy again

XXXVIII. cigarette duet - princes chelsea

XXXIX. rozane - wim de craene

XL. voor ik vergeet - spinvis

XLI. behind the sea - panic! at the disco

XLII. alone, omen 3 - king krule

XLIII. my jinji - sunset rollercoaster

XLIV. tout l’univers - gjon’s tears

XLV. I was all over her - salvia palth

XLVI. goodnight, my beautiful - russ morgan and his orchestra

[theoszczepanski]

[gothgyopo]

My Favorite Horror Movie Soundtracks:

Reborn by Colin Stetson from Hereditary (2017)

Into the Canyon by Theodore Shapiro from The Invitation (2015)

Haré in the Woods by Mark Koven from The Witch (2016)

Witches Coven by Mark Koven from The Witch (2016)

The entire The Shining (1980) soundtrack by Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind

Heels by Disasterpeace from It Follows (2014)

Side A and Side B by David Lynch and Alan R. Splet from Eraserhead (1977)

The Alien by Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow from Annihilation (2017)

Requiem for Soprano from 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

[filmjrnl365]

#114 Eraserhead (1977)

Director: David Lynch

United States

I’ve seen this film many times. The first time I ever saw it was in art school. It was met with laughter on several passages, but the film’s first ominous impressions never left me. In fact, for something that was created during the mid 1970s, Eraserhead has stood test of time. It seems to exist in some timeless netherworld, where none of the films visuals date it to any particular period or stylistic mandate.

I’m currently reading Room to Dream by David Lynch and Kristine McKenna. In this biography, there is plenty of illuminating anecdotes on Lynch’s making of Eraserhead, which is in tandem with his moving to L.A. and studying at the American Film Institute. On this most recent viewing, I concentrated more on the sound. I watched the movie, and paid more attention to how David Lynch and Alan Splet integrated the foreboding sonic landscape over the powerful black and white imagery.

The ambient industrial drone and echoed clanking of the movies score does a lot of the heavy lifting when it comes to establishing the emotional mood of Eraserhead. A dog barking in the distance, a hiss of some churning factory, a faraway train whistle, a static buzzer, and very little dialogue, are just some of the idiosyncratic sounds that populate an otherwise desolate, apocalyptic, landscape. In fact, to turn the sound down, some of the passages which feature Henry Spencer (Jack Nance), walking through this bleak wasteland, come across almost like a Buster Keaton film.

When the film turns to an interior scene, the low industrial hum and noise continues. It’s an ever present backdrop, that when paired with interior scenes, accentuates the awkward and claustrophobic isolation of the film. For the most part, Lynch shot the film at night. He and the crew worked until they heard the birds chirping in the pre-dawn hours; this contributes to the predominately dark tonality of the film. Whether interior or exterior shots, the movie is atmospheric, but essentially scoreless, in that it does not feature some bombastic , melodic, orchestration to ratchet up the tension. This was smart on Lynch’s part, it could very well have ruined Eraserhead to tie the memory of the movie to some pop song, in the same way as ay Mike Nichol’s The Graduate is married to Simon and Garfunkel’s, “The Sound of Silence” (In the case of The Graduate, it works to perfection).

From the dinner scene, and with the arrival of “the baby”, the sonic textures become more specific and less panoramic. We get the articulate and labored breathing of the baby, the gurgling of the vaporizer, the squishy sounds of Mary’s disturbed sleep, and Henry throwing umbilical cords against the wall. Just the kind of miniscule but unnerving sounds that trigger a visceral response from the viewer, and add a dimension of realism to an already visually obscure scene.

A strategy that Lynch uses to wonderful affect in Eraserhead and most of his other films is the zoom in shot paired with the crescendo of industrial roar. These scenes, by far some of my favorite in all of cinema, are singularly transportive moments. They suck the viewer instantly into an expanding darkness and serve as a portal into a dreamlike vignette collaged within the broader narrative of the film. An example, Henry stares at an innocuous radiator in his lonely room, but almost instantly, the radiator’s repetitious vertical forms become more like an ominous alien architecture. The image continues to zoom in and gives way to an isolated spot lit stage, where a young woman with bulging fibrous cheeks enacts a coy, innocent dance. White light flares, the industrial hiss and roar grow louder, turning the whole bizarre apparition into a nightmarish religious/apocalyptic whiteout.  

More than any other film, David Lynch’s Eraserhead captures the elusive darkness, perversity and anxiety that manifests in our dreams. I wouldn’t call Lynch’s film surrealist, because Lynch’s production process seems much too deliberate, and consciously obsessive to qualify as some experiment that attempts to plunge into the depths of the id. But, he does allow for the unexpected and the unexplained to flourish, even dominate the film. For a visual and aural medium like film to so successfully inhabit the dark worlds of the subconscious, is in my mind an amazing feat. It’s frustrating that Eraserhead gets viewed or understood by many viewers as a product of goofy, atomic era campiness; because it stands to be taken seriously as a true counterpoint to cinema’s slavish insistence on realism. Plenty of films have attempted to capture the dream, but it is very rare that a movie actually displaces us into the unsettling reality of one. Eraserhead spends the entirety of the film in this visceral, emotional darkness, and when we snap back into daily reality, we’re not sure where we just were, but we were definitely somewhere else. This is the fundamental power of this film, and in large part the subconscious landscape Lynch consistently dwells in for his other films.

If by chance you have made it this far in the review, and have never seen this film, a plot summary will be of little use. The roadmap of events is negligible in this case. One is best served by turning off the lights, putting on the headphones, suspending judgment, and absorbing the darkness, imagery and sound of this film at the metabolic level. This is where this movie is truly different. Most films, being a visual medium, reside in the eye and the mind; most find their path to our emotions through these channels. Eraserhead’s imagery, and its accompanying sonic landscape, manage to infiltrate the viewer’s emotional psyche on multiple covert levels. What has always puzzled me is why more movies and directors don’t explore this experiential space more aggressively. I’m left with the assumption they simply can’t or don’t want to, whether through budgetary constraint, technical obstacles, or lack of desire. Typically, movies / directors simply don’t transport their audience to this level of profound obscurity. They can approximate it, but that’s entirely different. So, most movies remain as a kind of gorgeous, externalized, optical experience. That has its place, but it’s without risk or danger. We don’t emerge from it shaken and disordered, like we emerge from the emotions of a nightmare.

By the end of Eraserhead, Henry, has decide to confront the helpless bandaged entity of “the baby”. And with scissors in hand,  Lynch takes the story into some unforgettable viscous footage, and the movie submerges even farther into its own abyss. Henry is losing his mind, and his head, and all the while - the muffled mechanical drone, and nuanced black and white texture of the film apprehends and captivates. Films are meant to be experienced, but few really are.  More than several within David Lynch’s career are of this level (Blue Velvet is a sure bet).

If one wishes to try and solve the riddle of David Lynch’s films, read another informative book entitled, Lynch on Lynch by David Lynch and Chris Rodley. But be warned, you will only get somewhat close to any definitive answers concerning his creative process or deepest intentions. Certain components, feelings and motivations, Lynch ultimately keeps to himself. He doesn’t remember or bluntly refuses to answer the question. He deliberately keeps the mystery intact, and in some instances may not have conscious knowledge of what the hell happened during the process of filming, but the magic was captured, and for Lynch, that is what’s most important. This is significant, and I love Lynch for this. Nothing worse than art that is so self-aware that it loses its capacity to intrigue. His art tends to avoid commentary, too much historical quotation, or even worse have it require some sort of theoretical homework before gaining admission into its content. This would be a buzzkill, and makes the resulting artwork an exercise in literacy, rather than a conduit for emotional connection. Rather than being explanitory or didactic, Lynch prefers to move around in the evocative world of symbols and associations. Everyone and everything in his films is coupled with an ominous duality that can turn at any moment. But, Rodley’s book, done in an interview format, gives insightful information on the fascinating, obsessive lengths Lynch delves into when making his films.

So, even if you have seen this movie many times, watch it again. Only this time listen. Turn up the sound, put on the headphones and allow yourself to willingly go into the dream. It‘s really not so funny anymore… it’s rather scary, and it’s absurdly beautiful.

Unforgettable.

And that’s the best thing you can ever say about a film!

6/04/2019

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