Gavin, The Reborn Identity: director, producer Manchester, England
Gavin was captain of this vessel, and steered it true. He led his people, heartening
them with fierce battle cries and gentle persuasion. He created tracks, created videos,
created a structure and form for the work. He, above all others, made this creation
seaworthy. This is Gavin.
Tom, Wax Audio: sound producer, sound editor Sydney, Australia
Tom was the man who looked at the vessel, interior and exterior, and gave it its
final beauty. He mastered the tracks, performing some gorgeous tweaks along the way.
On top of creating tracks of his own, he formed the collection into a unified, continuous,
sublime whole. This is Tom.
Andy, Colatron: cinematographer, co-producer Birmingham, England
Andy was the man who saw the potential of the vessel. He created tracks, he developed
the lion’s share of the artwork, he acted as cheerleader at the beginning, middle,
and end. He was the finest lieutenant aboard ship, always performing his duties with
a frightening level of brio. This is Andy.
Alan, Linus: creative director, writer Southern California, USA
Alan was the man who wondered if a few lovely planks might be developed into a handsome
vessel. He wrote the notes accompanying the tracks and all web pages. If he had a
vision, it was that men such as Gavin, Andy, and Tom might breathe life into a creation
encompassing the ocean-wide world of David Lynch. This is Alan.
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Let’s have a chat with the creators of Mashed in Plastic: the David Lynch mash-up
album, shall we?
Alan summoned the others in the manner to which they were accustomed: he gave three
finger snaps, two jaunty steps back, left a piece of lumber at the crossroads, placed
the blue box in the lady’s purse, called Bill Pullman’s house, sat mindfully with
the Rabbit family, and drank the Water of Life.
Convening in a subterranean bunker inhabited by the ghost of Jack Nance and the half-living
presence of the Quinoa god Tamahatsu, Alan asked Gavin, Tom, and Andy a few questions
with no subtext whatsoever.
Which Lynch film first brought you to Lynch as you now know Lynch, and which Lynch
film made you know that Lynch was not just Lynch but Lynch?
Gavin: “Twin Peaks” opened the door to the world of Lynch and beckoned me inwards
with the promise of cookies. Blue Velvet barred the door behind me and let Eraserhead
commit unspeakable acts on my imagination. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, but I’ve
come to love all these cruel captors.
Andy: The first Lynch movie I saw was Blue Velvet. I wanted to know what all the
fuss was about. I was appalled, but intrigued. And then “Twin Peaks” set my world
Tom:Lost Highway brought me to Lynch as I know him and Mulholland Drive was when
I discovered Lynch was in fact Lynch and not merely Lynch, you know?
Which Lynch film is your desert island disc? And which film’s soundtrack is your
desert island disc?
Gavin: I could watch Mulholland Drive on repeat until the end of time. Every second
on screen is a thing of beauty. I first watched it in a near empty cinema, almost
exactly the same size as Club Silencio, and sat with my brother in almost exactly
the same spot as Rita and Betty. The few minutes of that scene watched in that movie
theater rank up there with the greatest moments of my life. In terms of music, there’s
no album that can melt me into a wistful puddle quite like Angelo Badalamenti’s soundtrack
to the The Straight Story.
Andy: I just could not live without Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. The film shaped
my alter-ego as the Great Went. And I like muffing. But for aural pleasure, I turn
to Lost Highway. Just brutal.
Tom: I'd watch Mulholland Drive on my desert island plasma screen fuelled by coconut
milk and fish scale pulp, wouldn’t you? And the CD soundtrack? Why . . . Mashed
in Plastic, of course—what else?
Why do you hate Dune so much, and can’t you just let it go already?
Gavin: You know, I really don’t hate Dune. Sure, it doesn’t entirely work as a
movie but as a moving painting it’s remarkably captivating. And it features the
first cameo appearance of Lynch in one of his movies—Gordon Cole prefigured as a
Tom: Fear is the mindkiller? What?
Andy: Scoleciphobia–it’s debilitating.
When addressing Robert Blake’s hair in Lost Highway, is the proper honorific Sir,
Your Honor, or Her Majesty?
Gavin:Her Majesty, surely. Or Your Eminence, perhaps?
Andy:Your Deliquescence, I think.
Jack Nance, Kyle MacLachlan, Laura Dern, Isabella Rosselini, Harry Dean Stanton,
Grace Zabriskie: which frequent Lynch collaborator would you like to be? (The real
actor, not their characters. Please ignore the fact that Jack Nance is dead.)
Gavin: I’d opt for Jack Nance, mainly because he had the longest working relationship
with Lynch, and got to work on so many of his projects. Having to spend five years
of my life with freakish hair would be a small price to pay for the privilege.
Andy: For nostalgia’s sake, give me a red suit, slap me in reverse, and call me
Michael J. Anderson.
Tom: Jack Nance is dead? Is he here?
And just why is “Twin Peaks” so special, anyway?
Gavin: Most TV shows are a pop tune at best, lift music at worst. “Twin Peaks”
was a complete symphony. Everything in the first series was a perfectly placed note,
from the warm and genuine characters to the music and every word of dialogue. It
wrapped viewers up in its world and kept you nuzzled there even when things seemed
incomprehensible. We’ll never see its like again.
Tom: The show pretty much passed me by when it first aired, and I remember everyone
in school talking about it but I wasn't interested, you understand? I didn't realise
it was a Lynch production until after I saw Lost Highway and began to think, Well
what’s all this about then?
Andy: It’s all in the coffee blend.
The lesbian love scene in Mulholland Drive: great lesbian love scene or the greatest
lesbian love scene?
Gavin: What about that deleted scene from Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me between
Nadine and the Log Lady? Hepa hepa!
Andy: [frothy] Vampiros Lesbos!
Tom: Seen in context with the proceeding sequence at the Silencio Club, it's one
of the greatest scenes in cinema, no?
Did you know that Naomi Watts and Laura Harring, the stars of Mulholland Drive, are
two of the actors in the rabbit suits in Inland Empire? Do you think that’s neat?
Gavin: It shows the affection and respect actors who have worked with Lynch have
for him. They’ll happily spend their days quoting disjointed lines in rabbit heads
just to be a part of his vision.
Tom: Are they really in the suits or are they just doing the voices? Wouldn’t you
rather see them out of the suits?
Andy: Weren’t they also in The Shining? Great party, wasn’t it?
Wendy: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Jesus Christ, what the hell was Eraserhead about, anyway?
Gavin: If only Henry had put a rubber on his pencil he wouldn’t have had to deal
with all those issues.
Tom: I rather think it’s about the failure of a father to connect with his newborn
child and his fear of the commitment and responsibility, don’t you?
Andy: The clue’s in the fuzzy cheeks of the lady in the radiator. It’s a tribute
to The Godfather.
Every time someone watches Blue Velvet and enjoys its cruelly sadomasochistic trash,
an angel dies. True or false?
Gavin: Ah, but every time Audrey Horne smiles a new angel is born. Yin and yang,
everything in balance.
Andy: Every time an angel dies, an extra inch is added to my left leg. True or
Tom: True? False? Hey, what kind of beer do you like to drink, neighbor?
If you kill a hobo, but the hobo asked to be killed, would that still be considered
a capital crime?
Gavin: If you stab a prostitute with a screwdriver because a Polish magician was
controlling your mind, only that prostitute is just an actress who thinks she’s the
character she’s playing who thinks she’s a prostitute, and she doesn’t really die
anyway, would that still be considered a coherent plot?
Andy: What Gavin said.
Tom: What did Gavin say?
Jack: I did not say this. I am not here.
What film by another director would you like to see Lynch remake? What Lynch film
would you like to see remade by another director, and which director would that be?
Gavin: I was going to give a flippant comedy response here, but you know what .
. . I’d love to see a Lynchian remake of Hitchcock’s Vertigo. All the identity issues
of Lost Highway and Inland Empire owe a certain debt to Vertigo, and I know he’d
do an amazing job.
Andy: The second question cannot be answered. Well, okay: Dune. By Peter Jackson.
Sic semper tyrannis!
Tom: I’d like to see Lynch direct Return of the Jedi because George Lucas originally
asked him to direct it, and you believe that, don’t you? And wouldn’t you like to
see a Woody Allen version of Blue Velvet, with Woody playing Kyle MacLachlan's part?
Will Ray Wise ever be clean again?
Gavin: No, I think not.
Andy: Nope. Sorry, Ray.
Tom: Who? Leland Palmer? What? Heineken?
Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, and Inland Empire are challenging insofar as story
structure is concerned. Please make a sound you enjoy.
Gavin:[droning like a tractor]
Andy:[donging like a heavy bell]
Tom:[miming the word Silencio!—but in a questioning manner]
Stanley:[silently striking various poses: as Henry Spencer, as Paul Atreides, as
Pete Martell, as Dale Cooper]
John Merrick’s skull and Willem Dafoe’s Wild at Heart teeth show up at your doorstep.
Which one do you invite into your kitchen?
Gavin: I keep a clean kitchen. As long as the skull washes up, fine. But there’s
no way those teeth are crossing my threshold.
Tom: Dafoe's teeth, maybe? And maybe Lula isn't far behind?
Andy:[sullen, then mournful, then wistful] Either way, there’s a fish in the percolator.
Hey, did you ever notice how the actress playing Donna changed in the film version?
Gavin: Every time doppelganger Donna comes on screen in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with
Me, I want to pin her down, pluck her giant eyebrows, and paint a few freckles on
her. She’s not a patch on Lara Flynn Boyle. Well . . . Lara Flynn Boyle as she
Andy: Now did she change or was it all her anxiety-ridden mind creating a socio-fantastical
scenario in which to hide from her guilt at murdering her lover? But then how do
you explain the release from prison? And just who would feel stable having Gary
Busey as their film father anyway? Yes, these are the thoughts I’m saying, and they
have to do with Lost Highway. That last sentence explains the ramblings, I think.
Tom: Do I have to sit here for this?
Some people have postulated the meaning behind the blue box in Mulholland Drive.
Do you, as I, believe it represents my vengeful Teutonic grandmother?
Gavin: Would that be the grandmother you grew from seed in the attic?
Tom: In Catching the Big Fish, Lynch himself said “The box and the key—I don’t have
a clue what those are”—and weren’t we all amused?
Andy:[deadly serious] I believe in hugs.
Dale: I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will
be a place both wonderful and strange.
If Blue Velvet was remade, and Donny Osmond was cast as Frank, and in the finished
product he outcreeped Dennis Hopper, would your head just explode?
Gavin: This world is wild at heart and weird on top. I’d say just about anything
Andy: I would hope Hopper would calmly walk over, take a toot on his oxygen mask,
and perform “Crazy Horses” as it should have sounded.
Tom: We’ve met before, haven’t we?
Just watch Inland Empire and see for yourself, okay? And if you’ve already seen
it once, try it again. Okay?
Gavin: I’ve tried it twice so far. I hear the third time’s a charm.