David Lynch: The Art Life

As far as documentaries go, there have been more substantial and significant, affecting ones that have come out about artists' work. However, considering that David Lynch is one of the most enigmatic directors who fully represent and defy what art means, of course any film revolved around him would get the job done. This film takes a pretty simplistic approach in examining him and it's a collection of stories he gives about his childhood, but they're all worth it. This would be a fascinating documentary for any die-hard fan as well as any other film buff in general. Definitely recommended.

OMG! I fell asleep!!! Having David Lynch tell his own story in his soft MONOTONE voice makes a fascinating story, a yawner. NOT the stories themselves, but the way the tone in which they are told.

I am a David Lynch film fan and his art, while fascinating, isn't my "taste". I appreciate the visuals along with his stories.

He is a fan of home movies - which helped. And he is honest about his family.

But this movie is by far mostly about his art and his life, not his films. That was a bit of a disappointment. 95% of this is about the first 22 years of his life.

Not wasted time at all. But just not what I had hoped for.

Some revealing insights into Lynch as an artist, his childhood and his films which open the lid on his creative process.

I'm predisposed to love this. I love David Lynch. Who doesn't. People with no imagination. No sense of wonder. That's who. Lynch is someone who sees art everywhere. Sees possibility. Draws on his experiences. Here he talks candidly about childhood memories as he works in his home studio, painting, drawing, playing. He talks fondly of his mother, her role in encouraging young David to experiment. It sounds like an idyllic start in life. Visualised by happy photos and home cine footage. Until he recalls an early traumatising memory, that sparks wonder and mystery. From here the stories get dreamier, darker. House moves, new friends. More introspection. Disapproving parents, perhaps not understanding where he might be headed. We don't see anyone but David. He works. He smokes. He narrates. The only punctuation are shots of the art he's produced and bits of archive. It's heady stuff. Inspirational stuff. He talks of his own inspiration. Exposure to "The Art Life", "You drink coffee, you smoke cigarettes and you paint and that's it. Maybe girls come into it a little bit". I can certainly see the appeal. If his mother disapproved of early choices. His fathers hands on look at the world, building, fixing, promotes that work ethic. Both parents though are clearly hugely influential and the way he speaks about them is with pure love. That slow methodical delivery. Every word from him feels careful, special. Wise and yet completely humble and honest. The shots of him sat smoking in his studio, contemplating as he looks at something he's working on are a picture of pure zen tranquility. He's such an interesting character to watch, that hair, those eyes. He's like a canvas himself. The stories build a world. His world. An insulated place where he called the shots. Made the rules. No rules. He returns to the same things time and again. Work ethic. Being challenged. A young artist being forced. Forced to find his way. It's a brilliant documentary. You feel totally immersed. It's not, but it sometimes feels as engulfing as one of his films. It's fascinating to hear him talk and make sense of his origins. Through art, through painting. Losing himself in the work, ideas mixing in his head, until... "That idea stuck in my head. A moving painting".

Much like a David Lynch film, the documentary on said subject "The Art Life", mixes surreal tales, uncomfortable silences, and gorgeous photography.

Sure to befuddle many, this moody documentary concentrates on Lynch's visual art, barely touching on his filmmaking claim to fame. Revealed solely through his smoking words, "The Art Life" presents absorbing childhood recollections as Lynch creates his stark art pieces. It's beautifully shot, methodically paced, with a rather unsettling quality.

There is no external opinion to be had, as the film exists entirely in Lynch's world. We see him making art, talking art, pondering art, and then making more art. He is obsessed, focused, but friendly and charming, whether in the midst of molding a creepy canvas, groping his shock of white hair, planning his next canvas move in a cloud of smoke, or interacting with his tiny daughter. The mystery of Hollywood's extreme outsider remains deliciously intact.

Unforgettable.