Harry, (another one of my friends from university, who is also likely to feature on here more than once) got tickets to see this documentary about David Lynch, before he became the incredible director and filmmaker everyone knows him as. It was at the BFI (we love the BFI Southbank) so Harry and I met in the afternoon for a bit of lunch and a natter.
We went to the Southbank food market and bought Korean Burritos (after a long, arduous hunt for a cashpoint – life lesson: if heading to Southbank, make sure to have cash). I mean, the hunt wasn’t really arduous at all, it just involved crossing Hungerford Bridge (I think that’s the bridge we crossed to get to the nearest ATM).
(Above: accurate depiction of me eating a Korean burrito)
The Korean Burritos were definitely worth it, though, and the hunt definitely gave us the time to build our appetites. I’d go so far as to say that they better than any traditional burrito I’ve had thus far. Harry had the beef one, and I had the chicken. Both were really good, subtly flavourful and everything in them complemented everything it was put alongside. They weren’t too carby, either, as burritos can sometimes be. Overall, really great lunch! Would definitely recommend the Korean Burrito stall at the Southbank food market (they also do like salad bowls and stuff but if you’re going to a Korean Burrito stall, you really ought to get a Korean Burrito).
Now, time for David Lynch. The documentary was basically just a series of recorded conversations with David Lynch himself, with his art shown on screen as he was talking about the events in his life that inspired pieces of art. He really is an incredibly interesting man, and although it seems like he had a picture perfect childhood, some weird stuff happened that caused some dark paintings and a bit of a spiral on to a dark and twisty route. I, personally, (and incredibly selfishly,) am grateful for David Lynch’s Dark and Twistys because it gave us Eraserhead and a bunch of cool artwork I’d had no idea David Lynch had done. (See left)
David Lynch seems pretty cool though, the documentary made me wish I was a member of his group of friends. Every so often, he would tell a really funny story, like how he stopped on the middle of the freeway because he was high (for the first time) and thought the lines were just that beautiful, or how he was high at a Bob Dylan concert and really high up in the audience so just left, and his leaving sparked the argument that caused he and his roommate to part ways for good. (He tells it better, trust me).
His transition into film is beautifully described: “I suddenly thought, what if it moved… what if it moved, and there was sound” Harry and I both absolutely loved that, so much so that it has become a highlight of the whole thing for us. There were a couple of bits, too, that have left me so curious. A couple of anecdotes left me hopelessly confused, and I haven’t quite been able to accept that I will never know. I will never know what Mr Smith said, and I’ll never learn about what happened to that woman who was crying in the street in the Lynch’s quiet little village.
Post-doc, we went for a lovely little stroll around town, and ended up in St James’ Park sitting and chatting until about 11 something. Ace day out in London town. Ace, ace day out.
Anyway! I have to go do some things in my busy busy life, I shall leave you with this sound advice from David Lynch himself: