![]() Me, at about three years old, bewitched by The Wizard of Oz in my little Dorothy outfit. ![]() In fact, without Oz, it’s entirely possible that the David Lynch we know and love wouldn’t exist. ![]() The intertextual parallels between Oz and Lynch’s entire filmography, however, are self-evident to anyone with even a passing familiarity with Oz. There were staggering parallels to my upbringing on Oz: Halloween costumes (I was Audrey Horne two years in a row), numerous internet rabbit holes, and merchandise. ![]() Like Oz, Twin Peaks became a deeply ingrained obsession of mine. But it wasn’t until I finally watched Twin Peaks my freshman year of college that I became a serious Lynch acolyte. Hard to say what my first Lynch experience was - it might have been watching Eraserhead On Demand with my mom, skipping homework to watch Mulholland Drive and Wild at Heart, or seeing parts of The Elephant Man (arguably Lynch’s most accessible film next to the aptly titled The Straight Story) on AMC. It’s a film I’ll forever associate with my parents, who first experienced Oz when it would ceremoniously air once a year on their black-and-white television sets as children.Īnd then, when I transitioned from adolescence to young adulthood, I “discovered” David Lynch, and the trajectory of my filmic life changed forever once more. Oz was more or less my gateway drug into the celluloid world, the significance of which cannot be stressed enough. In the years that followed throughout my childhood, I maintained this fascination with Oz through Halloween costumes and deep dives on the internet into the ownership history of the Ruby Slippers. While I was helping my mom clean out my childhood home to put on the market a few years ago, I found pictures of myself in full Dorothy get-up standing in front of our old Zenith television, completely and utterly transfixed. ![]() Some of my earliest and most vivid memories are of making my dad pause the tape just before Dorothy steps out into the luscious technicolor of Oz to help me put on a little gingham dress and braid my hair (no small feat for his thick drummer fingers, but he tried his best) so I could skip along the yellow brick road. My film journey begins at about the age of three with my father’s second-generation VHS copy of The Wizard of Oz. The opening montage that begins Lynch/Oz. ![]()
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