![]() You can see it in obvious ways, like the direct Oz homages in Wild at Heart (1990), and in more roundabout ways, like the constant recurring motifs of ruby-red shoes, curtains, and head wounds. It’s the winding journey down this endless, semiotic yellow-brick road that counts.ĭivided into six chapters - with voiceover duties divvied up between seven different narrators - this hybrid film doc/portrait of an artist as a superfan takes for granted that America’s greatest weird-as-fuck filmmaker was inspired by the 1939 kids’ flick. Like the answer to that above question, the movie both skirts being tied down yet somehow reveals a host of other things - about the man, his movies, the darkness on the edge of Tinseltown, the medium of cinema itself - in the process of dodging and weaving. Kindly note that we use the word “on” as loosely as humanly possible this essay-ish excavation is less an end unto itself and more a series of means for all sorts of deep-thought inquiries. Philippe’s free-form documentary on the director’s relationship to this Golden Age of Hollywood classic. That telling anecdote is recalled in Lynch/Oz, Alexandre O. ![]() His reply: “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about The Wizard of Oz.“ An audience member at a Q&A once asked Lynch whether there was a connection between The Wizard of Oz and the movie he’d just screened, Mullholland Drive. But in bending over backwards to avoid discussing what something might “mean,” or deflecting questions with humor and/or cryptic pronunciations, the Blue Velvet filmmaker occasionally drops a breadcrumb hint about what makes him creatively tick. He’d prefer the work speak for itself, thank you very much. David Lynch does not like talking about his movies.
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