Written by Andreas Babiolakis

“Can you believe it?”

David Keith Lynch passed away in the month of January, 2025, just days before his seventy ninth birthday. After suffering from emphysema since late 2024, Lynch’s health plummeted during the tragic wildfires of Southern California when he had to be evacuated from his home (a place he was previously confined to because of his condition). Just like that, Lynch was gone. A director I personally have touted as the greatest living filmmaker for most of my life (I sadly can no longer use this title in reference to David Lynch). He was a master of bridging the unorthodoxy of underground, experimental art and cinema with the entertainment of the masses (perhaps the person to accomplish bringing avant-garde works to the mainstream the most and in the best ways). He forever changed film, television, and numerous other mediums thanks to not only his groundbreaking works and visions but the tributes by those he inspired as well. Lynch was always imitated but never matched; he was as singular as artists get.

Instead of just going through his films again, which I have done before here, I wanted to give a proper tribute to an American cinematic icon who has shaped me as a cinephile, encouraged my tastes all around, and carve my personality as a human being. This loss feels quite personal to me because of how connected I feel to Lynch’s works. I found comfort in the abnormal; bliss in the nightmarish; humour in the absurd; peace within cacophony. Lynch was a master of the surreal unlike most other artists (outside of, say, Luis Buñuel), so his ability to make your subconscious come to life and light meant that he was able to understand you from inside and out; I personally felt at least a considerably spiritual connection to his works as a result. He helped me rethink entertainment, life, and myself. I’ll never forget his impact on me as a fellow black sheep. If you feel like you are in a similar wavelength, here are ten ways you can celebrate David Lynch with me on the day of the announcement of his passing, or at any point in time.

Marathon His Films

I know I said I wasn’t going to go back to just recognizing Lynch’s films, but that truly is the best place to start when it comes to recognizing what a titan of film this man was (and still is, even in death). He has a small but mighty filmography with numerous masterpieces. Mulholland Drive is still the greatest film of the twenty-first century, and in my Mount Rushmore of best motion pictures I’ve ever seen. Blue Velvet is a phenomenal decimation and reconstruction of both the American Dream and the high school flicks of the eighties (this is as horrifying as coming-of-age films get). The Elephant Man is a breathtakingly different approach to the biographical or historical picture. I could keep going, but you get the point.

However, go the extra mile. Don’t just watch Lynch’s feature films. Revisit his short films. The Grandmother is a sensational snippet of avant-garde filmmaking. Lady Blue Shanghai is a hypnotic re-imagining of what a perfume advertisement can be. There is a handful of these shorts that Lynch made that are as worthwhile of watching again as his features. The Criterion Collection has made a good chunk of his shorts available on their copy of Eraserhead (one of the great debut films of all time). If anything, Lynch’s shorts will get you in touch with him as a person, given the candid nature of many of his works (his student films will especially provide insight into Lynch as a young dreamer experimenting and finding his way).

Watch Lynch’s Favourite Films

Lynch has always been vocal about his influences, and that includes his favourite films as well. I don’t need to make a list of his favourite works since many websites have done so already (here’s IndieWire’s compilation of Lynch’s top ten favourite films). You can get a great sense of his passion for these films via his own motion pictures, like how heavily inspired Wild at Heart is by The Wizard of Oz, for instance. Lynch doesn’t have too many films, all things considered, so if you wanted to keep the Lynchian marathon going, it would be wise to get in touch with Billy Wylder’s noir masterpiece Sunset Boulevard, or Norman McLeod’s screwy comedy It’s a Gift (Lynch called W.C. Fields’ performance in this film his favourite of all time: a sign of where the late director gets his sense of humour from, I’d argue).

Head (Back) to Twin Peaks

Of course, when you have run out of Lynch’s films (or those which inspired him), there’s only one last binge-watch to have: Twin Peaks. One of the greatest series of all time, Lynch and Mark Frost’s genre-bending, boundary-pushing opus is available in all of its glory to cherish from start to finish. You have the greatest television pilot ever made, a first season that proved how cinematic and experimental television can get, a second season with extreme highs but the series’ lows to boot (it lost its way midway thanks to studio meddling and conflict), a sensational tie-in film that has gone on to be considered a staple of Lynch’s filmography, and (gasp) a miniseries return that solidifies Twin Peaks as a daring, arthouse benchmark of television.

This is as great as the small screen gets (yes, even with the handful of so-so episodes in Season 2). In case the hyperlinks above don’t detail this enough, I celebrated Twin Peaks Week when I first kicked off Films Fatale back in 2019, and it’s a tradition I try to uphold annually (at least reconnecting with this series once a year). Additionally, for those who are interested, here was my ranking of the ten best episodes of Twin Peaks when I first launched this site. Finally, for the extra goodness, don’t forget about the Missing Pieces deleted scenes that will give you just a bit more should you seek it.

Read Twin Peaks Lore

I know these weren’t written by Lynch himself, but they’re certainly approved by the late auteur. For the biggest Twin Peaks nuts like myself, the written lore only expands the universe further. A lot of fans like to discredit the Frost-written novels (The Secret History of Twin Peaks and The Final Dossier) because they feel like Frost’s writing over-explains the series in ways that people aren’t fond of (like stating that there are aliens), but what I feel like people don’t understand is that these novels — most importantly — are delivered from the “perspectives” of those who live within the universe of the series: this is how they are interpreting what is happening around them, not a hard truth as to what the mysteries are. I think this makes the writing fascinating. Additionally, Lynch’s daughter, Jennifer Lynch, wrote The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer which is a must-own for Twin Peaks aficionados; it’s the final piece to feeling present with the tragic character.

Put On Lynch-Related Music

Lynch himself released a couple of albums of experimental music, including the polarizing Crazy Clown Time (which I think warrants a listen). There’s obviously the music of the late Angelo Badalamenti, who scored a few of Lynch’s works (who could forget his amazing compositions); this music will hit even harder now that both Badalamenti and Lynch have passed on. There are also the melodies of Lynch’s muses, like Julee Cruise and Chrystabell, the songs of the roadhouse sections of Twin Peaks: The Return, and a slew of homages to choose from as well (I highly recommend Xiu Xiu’s album Plays the Music of Twin Peaks).

Do All The Lynchian Extra-Curriculars

Lynch did a lot more than just film and television (and, well, music): he dabbled in quite a lot, from trying his hand at being a cartoonist (the comic strip The Angriest Dog in the World, which lasted for a startling nine years in the LA Reader) and an animator (Dumbland is a short-running series that I’d recommend only to the biggest Lynch fans) to other forms of art and expressionism; the best of these off-shoots is likely Rabbits, which wound up making an appearance in his swansong, Inland Empire.

Find Peace Via Meditation

If there is one thing Lynch championed more than film and art, it’s transcendental meditation. It’s a practice he fulfilled at least once a day, and he attributed his wellbeing to it; in fact, many Lynch cohorts have begun meditating as a result. This quest for self healing and calmness started back in the seventies when Lynch connected with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (who founded transcendental meditation); Lynch would give back to this practice and community via his Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and Peace, which funds the research behind the benefits and science this form of meditation. Especially since life can be hard and we are in the midst of challenging times, meditation is a fantastic form of relaxation and soundness that many have subscribed to; maybe this could be your foray into it.

Piece Together a Lynchian Meal

It goes without saying that there is much food and drink associated with Lynch’s works. From the inviting cherry pie of the Double R Diner from Twin Peaks, to the freaky tiny chickens in Eraserhead, you can find a menu in his films somewhere. For drink, you have the option for Heineken — excuse me, Pabst Blue Ribbon is what I meant — (courtesy of Blue Velvet), or Lynch’s favourite drink: jet black coffee (which you can find Special Agent Dale Cooper drinking throughout Twin Peaks, obviously). Maybe you can have whatever menu you come up with every January 20th (Lynch’s birthday); there’s one coming up now in bittersweet fashion.

Get in Touch With Lynch’s Artistic Roots

Before we get to the end of this tribute, we can briefly go back to the root of it all by observing the fine-art influences of a young Lynch. Some are more obvious, like many works by the nightmarish figurative painter Francis Bacon (whose art can be seen above, the painting being “The Seated Figure”) to the images of surrealist master Rene Magritte. There are visual similarities between these works and the films — especially the earlier releases — of Lynch (his short, The Grandmother, feels like a Bacon painting having come to life). I needn’t go further into this topic, as Menno Kooistra of VoorDeFilm has made the perfect case for this topic with the following video that I implore you to check out.

Cherish the Day

Lastly — but most importantly — this is a sad day but it is one to find good and hope in. As David Lynch would say (and his family reminded us in their eulogy earlier today), “Keep your eye on the donut and not on the hole” (the hole being the void left by Lynch’s absence). Lynch was renown for his daily weather reports during the pandemic: little bursts of cheer that got us through every day of bullshit during a rocky time. He always saw positivity in darkness, even if some of his works are dismally terrifying. Known for his wholesomeness and gentle directing approach, Lynch was synonymous with optimism as a human being (even if he was similar to the abstract and the nightmarish as a director). No matter what’s happening or what you are going through: keep going for the things that matter or bring you hope, even if they are little. Lynch has left us, but we will never be bereft of his masterpieces and influence. That will keep me going for a while, and I hope it will do the same for you as well.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.

Ten Ways to Celebrate David Lynch: In Memoriam