DumbLand

It is said that David Lynch's films and shorts won't appeal to everyone. Neither will Dumbland, maybe more than ever. I have a feeling that Dumbland, as people come across it, will be a true mark of 'I get it' or 'what the hell'. It's not surrealism exactly, but absurd to the point of no return. It's also very, very, very stupid. But in this stupidity can be a sort of ironic intelligence to it, that the maker knows so well how childish and repugnant this is, and this self-consciousness is a plus, not a detraction.

It's just a bunch of crudely drawn shorts- the kind that might not even make it on Hertzfeldt and Judge's Animation show (which, I might add, Lynch here has a lot in common with both directors in their work- centered on a lummox with an IQ of 20 who has a constantly quivering-with-fear wife, and a child who looks like a cross between the gingerbread man and/or an alien. The episodes include little situations like a faulty treadmill, a salesman who can recite the Gettysburg address, watching over a sick brother in law, ant hallucinations, and just wallowing on the couch with noise all around. All the while, Lynch is still experimenting, as he was constantly for better or worse during the period of five years he made on and off Inland Empire.

For one thing, he's going back to the roots of his very first short, Six Figures Getting Sick Six Times, in the usage of repetition as a means to an end. This sometimes works excruciatingly well, and sometimes not. Sometimes, like with the episode with the sitting around the house doing nothing as teeth are bleeding and a fly buzzes around, the absurdism sort of waxes and wanes without much of a good effect. And even an episode like with the guy's friend coming over is funny more-so for the Beavis & Butt-head comparison (both laugh like idiots, and are equally engrossed by killing things like fish and sheep). What ends up working is how Lynch shows up front delirious abstractions, in the crudest ways imaginable, and excessive violence.

In what comes closest to surrealism in "ants", the guy mistakenly sprays bug-spray (just called "Kill", one of Lynch's very cheap but fun pokes at societal conventions) on himself, and envisions ants in a musical chorus line, solos included. And one of the most harrowingly funny things I've ever seen from the filmmaker is "get the stick", where we just see the guy, cheered on by his son, getting a stick lodged in his mouth. Soon the neck breaks, eyes pop out, and once said stick is removed he doesn't watch out for traffic waddling like a manhole cover. Other moments pop up like this in unexpected crevices, and it's drawn as if on cheap paper with an impetus to shock with foul-mouthed language (mostly from the man, as well as from the 'grandmother', who in one of Lynch's voices for the characters is the deepest of all), and a shaky quality that's reminiscent of the cream of the crop from (early) Hertzfeldt.

All the same I'm still not sure if Dumbland is something I would put into someone's hands if they haven't seen much of Lynch yet let alone anything by him. There are some little points on society made via complete exaggerations that may or may not be in Lynch's mind closer than we usually think to those in real life. However in general there's not a whole lot that should be read into it, which is why I'd say more than half who see it will hate it with a passion. Those who dig the bottom-less pits of animated comedy, be prepared have a blast.

In April 2017, I watched all the eight episodes of this American black comedy cartoon on YouTube and it is the most bizarre and disturbing cartoon I've ever seen!

It's about a caveman-like man who lives in a house along with his frazzled wife and squeaky-voiced son.

Randy's son Sparky looks like an extraterrestrial.

His wife has terrible problems.

The style of this animation is basically a child's drawing.

Since September of last year, I have been borrowing four to six films each week from the Harold Washington Library, which boasts an impressive DVD collection. (The HWL truly is a circulating library: three-quarters of its films are out at any given time!) Recently, I was thrilled to find The Short Films of David Lynch. Yesterday, knowing little about the animated series, I picked up Dumbland. I'm here to report that, for David Lynch fans, watching the eight episodes is half an hour well-spent.

The most remarkable feature of these brief pieces are their soundtracks. Each episode has its own rhythm. Respiratory and digestive systems provide percussion. Outrageous voices accent pauses' ends. Physical violence supplies the beats. Chirping birds and buzzing sockets brush along the edges. Many other elements fill out the orchestra. The pacing of the crude animation often keeps in sync with the sound, but the soundtrack itself struck me as Lynch's primary interest in creating and disseminating this work. In a way, these eight shorts are unique Lynchian rhythms.

That said, the situations are odd, ugly, profound, dumb and funny as hell. And there's enough space within them to reflect on how absurd we humans can be. I can't say that I'll watch the collection again, but for anyone who revelled in the movements that is the suite Inland Empire, Dumbland is worth half an hour of your time.

I picked up the "Dumbland" DVD around this time last year, despite the poor marks other sites had given it. I consider myself a David Lynch fan, even though his output has been erratic (in terms of both quality and content) over the past three decades. The first time I watched "Dumbland," I was dumb-founded and more than a little angry at the end of its 33 minutes--the animated series of 8 short episodes, previously available only to paying members of Lynch's website, was a total wash...awful sound, awful stories, and probably the worst animation known to man (at least a child's flipbook of drawings wouldn't cause a migraine). Near the end, I was semi-entranced by the dancing ants who sing a taunting song at our obnoxious, white-trash 'hero,' thinking a little of Lynch's bizarro craft was clawing at the surface. Foregoing a review then, I decided to watch the DVD a second time before giving an opinion. (I know Lynch well enough to realize his films often play better upon repeated viewings.) Well, the time has come. One year later, "Dumbland" is...still not that great, but a little better than my initial viewing. I don't care what pretentious justifications you have for this fitting into the Lynch Pantheon of Strange, its (clearly deliberate) efforts to be a subversive, "anti-entertainment" come across as obnoxious all the same: not only is the animation horrible, it is incredibly abrasive on the 'ol eyes (the white is so bright, in fact, that it is like watching black squiggles dance on a fluorescent lightbulb); and the sound mix is also poor, with the 'hero's screams louder than any other character. Again, I have no doubt that Lynch intended ALL of this, but if this is his new tactic of alienating audiences, it's pretty lame to stoop to aural/visual abrasion for its own sake.

That being said, the first 2-3 episodes have a certain quirky humor that is not apparent upon an initial viewing--trouble is, the gags (along with that damned animation) become VERY repetitive after that. Lynch's imagery of suburbia is crude and bizarre, including a panicked, scarecrow-haired wife; an androgynous embryo of a child; a blood-vomiting uncle; duck-f*cking neighbors; ants with attitudes; smiling flies; and tanks driving down the street, among other strange happenings. All of this is pure Lynch, and while "Dumbland"'s crudity doesn't merit "Eraserhead"-style analysis and debate, it ultimately makes for a low-budget, low-class, low-expectation, and low-level hypnotic experience (though that could just be attributable to the spiral that starts each episode).

The amount of times the central character brings up the concept of hypothetically defecating in his own backyard... beautiful.