In late 2001, David Lynch launched his personal website. On a (paid) members-only site, Lynch creates original content for www.davidlynch.com, including a short film series, crude animations, ambient/art-installation style film experiments, and various other odds and ends that find their perfect outlet on the internet. The site also has a store (accessible to members and nonmembers alike) where one can purchase t-shirts, posters, art prints, and CDs. Also available are two DVDs produced by Lynch himself, one compiling various shorts and the other showcasing his feature film debut.

"The Short Films of David Lynch" contains six films, the majority of which predate his first feature, "Eraserhead." The first, created in 1967 while he was attending the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia, arose out of a desire to see his paintings in motion. "Six Men Getting Sick" consists of a one-minute animated film loop projected on a sculpted screen. The screen features three crude busts of Lynch himself; the animation adds the other three heads. The heads all catch fire and vomit down the screen, accompanied by a wailing siren. The DVD presents the animated loop six times; turn down the lights and crank up the volume -- that's as close as you're going to get to replicating the initial experience.

Lynch's $200 creation caught the attention of one H. Barton Wasserman, who decided he would like something similar for his home. He gave Lynch a $500 commission to come up with something new. Lynch spent half the money on a new Bolex 16mm camera and, after a semi-disastrous start, made "The Alphabet." Combining animation and live action, the four-minute film plays like a nightmare of speech therapy. Letters are birthed from an animated orifice over the soundtrack of a man's barely distinguishable singing while a disembodied mouth reminds us "that [we] are dealing with the human form." The whole thing ends in a terrifying rendition of the alphabet song, after which a woman (Lynch's wife at the time, Peggy) vomits blood all over the sheets. It's a disturbing work and one that illustrates how important the sound design of his films would become.

Encouraged by his creative success with "The Alphabet," Lynch applied for a grant from the American Film Institute to make his next short. "The Grandmother" finds Lynch for the first time developing something of an actual narrative, as well as a character that earns the audience's empathy.

In a prologue alternating between animation and black and white film, a man and woman, after a non-explicit (but disturbing) coupling, see their fully-formed child emerge from the leaf-strewn ground. The boy awakens at home each morning to find that he has wet his bed. His enraged father beats him and rubs his screaming face in the stained sheets. His mother is no comfort, either; at no time does either parent use actual words. Their only utterances are dog-like barks and bird-like shrieks. Longing for a more caring familial relation, the boy plants a seed in a pile of dirt on a bed in the attic. A tree grows out and in time gives wet, messy birth to the grandmother of the title. The woman is warm and kind to the boy, serving as a respite from his animalistic parents. Sadly, nothing good lasts forever as the boy loses the grandmother during a harrowing sequence that reeks of real childhood trauma. The film's final image will leave many scratching their heads. "The Grandmother" packs quite an emotional punch and ranks among Lynch's best films.

In 1973, the American Film Institute asked Fred Elmes to test two new black and white video stocks they were considering investing in. It was one year into the four-year production of "Eraserhead," and since filming had stopped due to lack of funds, Lynch seized the opportunity to make an impromptu short film. He wrote the script overnight, and he and Elmes shot the film twice the following day, once with each video stock. Both versions (nearly identical) are presented on the DVD. Catherine Coulson (then-wife of Jack Nance, and later the Log Lady of "Twin Peaks") plays a double amputee writing a letter to a presumably absent lover; her letter is read in a voice-over. As she writes, a doctor (Lynch) tends to the bandages, making a bloody mess to which she appears oblivious. Although obviously shot quickly and on the spur of the moment, "The Amputee" still manages to touch upon such recurring Lynch themes as scorned lovers and hidden secrets.

The next film on the disc is "The Cowboy and the Frenchman," from 1987. Made for French television as part of a series of films titled, "The French as Seen by_____," this marks Lynch's first attempt at all-out comedy. Many fans don't like it at all. The humor is broad, the dialogue is delivered in a way that suggests the actors had been handed the script only five minutes prior to filming, and even at 25 minutes it seems padded. Those willing to accept it on its own terms, however, are likely to find it hilarious. This film also marks the first time Lynch worked with Harry Dean Stanton, whose performance as the nearly deaf cowboy Slim is wonderfully funny, with great comic timing. He even gets to deliver a rendition of "Home on the Range."

The story concerns a Frenchman, Pierre, who, after taking some pills in New York, finds himself on Slim's ranch. Slim has his cowhands Pete (Jack Nance) and Dusty (Tracey Walter) go though Pierre's valise, discovering all the telltale signs of a Frenchman: wine, brie, baguettes, escargot, and a photo of Jose Ferrer ("Looks like a midget," Slim says). A party ensues featuring southern warblers, many French women, rockabilly music, and a four-foot-tall replica of the Statue of Liberty. The following morning, Pierre is wearing a cowboy hat, Slim a beret. Slim still doesn't like snails, though. It's a funny little film, close in spirit to Lynch's "On the Air," the 1950s set sitcom that ABC yanked after airing three episodes.

The final film in the collection dates from 1995. "Premonitions Following an Evil Deed" was created as part of the film "Lumiere and Company." Forty international directors were given an original Lumiere brothers camera and a set of instructions. The films could be only 55 seconds long (due to the small amount of film the camera could hold), use only natural light and no sync sound, and be completed in only one take (with only three attempts allowed). Lynch's film is a miniature masterpiece. It plays like an epic dream fragment: foreboding and scary, it makes just enough intuitive sense to be truly creepy. A body is discovered, a woman has a feeling that something is wrong, and strange men with deformed heads work in a factory where a nude woman is suspended in a water-filled cylinder -- all set to a spooky Angelo Badalamenti theme. (This short is also available on the "Lumiere and Company" DVD and has behind the scenes footage of Lynch shooting the film.)

The transfers of the films are as good as can be expected when taking into account their various origins. "The Amputee" looks like what it is: thirty-year-old black and white video. "The Cowboy and the Frenchman" was shot by Fred Elmes on 35 mm for television, and if it doesn't quite reach the level of his work on "Eraserhead," "Blue Velvet," and "Wild at Heart," it still has its inspired moments. The musical medley sequence in particular makes nice use of shafts of light cutting through a dusty night. "Premonitions" looks as it should: as if it were filmed with a 100-year-old camera on film made with a retroactively antiquated emulsion. "The Alphabet" shows some signs of wear -- a scratch here, a nick there -- but none is distracting, and it looks better than any bootleg you may have seen in the past. The same can be said of "The Grandmother." The black levels here are particularly impressive. Lynch painted the interior sets black to achieve a mysterious depth, to an effect not dissimilar from the darkened recesses of the Madisons' home in "Lost Highway."

Sound is always clean and clear, whether it's the ambient drones of Tractor's "Grandmother" score or the various music styles heard in "Cowboy."

Each short is preceded by a few minutes of Lynch speaking at a microphone about the films in question. The introductions are brief but informative. While he doesn't provide any insight into "meanings" for his films (no surprise there), they have a loose, conversational quality, and he comes across as quite endearing.

Also included is a 16-page booklet of photos from the films. It lacks any real information aside from production year and film gauge but is nice-looking nonetheless.

The disc comes packaged in an 8-by-8 inch box with one of the sculpted heads from "Six Men Getting Sick" on the slipcover. It looks nice on your shelf, but don't expect to fit it in next to your other DVDs. It will fit in, however, right next to "Eraserhead."

The slipcover on the box for the "Eraserhead" DVD bears the logo "DVD 2000," an indication of how long Lynch has worked on this release to get it just right. The film's elements were cleaned up one at a time (over 130,000 of them) to remove debris and other ephemera. The results are nothing short of astonishing.

For a film that took the better part of four years to produce (and went through two cinematographers), "Eraserhead" has a remarkably consistent look and feel. Few other films have achieved this sense of total immersion in a world of its own creation. Inspired by his years in Philadelphia (though actually filmed in Los Angeles), the urban environment presented here is one of hissing radiators, clanging factories, and deserted streets. By taking so long to make the film, Lynch was able to totally inhabit its world in a way he has not been able to do since. As such, there is a kind of purity to his vision here, unencumbered by any commercial considerations at all. Still, it is hardly an inaccessible movie. Rife with symbolism, the film, like "The Grandmother," has an intuitive quality that leaves the viewer with an understanding of what he has just seen, even if it cannot be explained in any traditional way. You "get" the film, without being able to really describe it in terms other than those that allude to its surface qualities. There is a narrative of sorts (man finds himself ill-prepared for parenting a premature, mutant baby), but the mood and free associative aspects of the film are what really linger.

"Eraserhead" looks amazing on this DVD. The 1.85 framing (the first time the film has been available in its original aspect ratio in this country) shows off Lynch's compositions beautifully. Even after the long process of cleaning up the film elements, Lynch spent a great deal of time getting his high-definition master to look good compressed on disc. The DVD's release was delayed again and again, finally making its way into his online store in March of 2003. The film has likely never looked this good since its premiere in 1977, with its deep blacks, blinding whites, and every shade of gray in between. The dense, highly detailed soundtrack (by Lynch and Alan Splet) is as all-enveloping as it should be.

As great as the film looks and sounds, Lynch also includes an extra feature that makes this release even more invaluable. "Stories" is an 85-minute documentary covering nearly every aspect of the making of "Eraserhead" (no, he doesn't reveal how he made the baby). As on the "Short Films" disc, Lynch sits at his microphone, reminiscing on the long production of his film and the collaborators who stuck with him for the entire time (save original cinematographer Herbert Cardwell, who was replaced by Fred Elmes one year in). Interspersed throughout are various photos and even some video footage shot on set (likely with the same camera used on "The Amputee"). Because Lynch is a great storyteller, his discussion never lags. Log Lady Catherine Coulson joins in via speakerphone and shares some memories of her own. Married to Jack Nance at the time, she took many photos on set which can be seen in Lynch's book "Images"; she was also responsible for maintaining Henry's 'do for the four-year shoot.

A 20-page booklet is included with reproductions of lots of neat artifacts, including some unfinished storyboards, a page of Lynch's original script treatment, an invitation to the premiere, and other odds and ends. There is also a more detailed explanation of the restoration process the film underwent on its way to DVD.

"The Short Films of David Lynch" and "Eraserhead" are available exclusively through www.davidlynch.com. Each DVD is $39.94 and well worth the money to fans of the films. (A remastered "Eraserhead" soundtrack CD is also available for $15.91.)

About Jason Minnix

Talk movies at the The Water Cooler