David Lynch explains the symbolism of electricity in his movies
The films of David Lynch have confused movie-goers for decades thanks to his indulgence in surreal imagery and non-linear storylines. By utilising these techniques, Lynch has become somewhat of an enigma. Although his films are hard to deconstruct and often demand multiple rewatches for audiences to draw a sense of coherence, Lynch is undoubtedly a master of his craft.
Since his debut feature Eraserhead, released in 1977, the director has become one of the industry’s most influential figures. Lynch’s work blurs the lines between fantasy and reality, creating an absurdist dreamlike world inhabited by bizarre and unforgettable characters. Specific motifs and themes have defined his films, mainly the destruction of the ‘American Dream’, society’s seedy underbelly, and troubled women who often play dual roles. However, less apparent motifs like car crashes and electricity are central to developing a deeper understanding of Lynch’s oeuvre.
Electric malfunctions and strobing lights appear in multiple Lynch projects, such as Eraserhead, Mulholland Drive and Twin Peaks. For example, in Eraserhead‘s dramatic closing sequence, when Henry’s deformed baby explodes in a pile of guts and liquid, it causes electrical sparks, and a lamp begins to flicker. Eventually, a point-of-view shot moves towards the lightbulb, suggesting that the dead baby has become one with electricity.
Similarly, in Mulholland Drive, flashing lights and malfunctioning electricity appear during times of distress in the movie’s second part, signalling a rupture between the real world and another realm. At a screening of Inland Empire in 2006, an audience member asked Lynch about the significance of electricity in his movies. He explained: “The fact that it controls us”.
The director continued: “I don’t know why all people aren’t fascinated with it. It makes beautiful sounds, and it makes a lot of times some incredible light. It runs many things in our world, and it’s beautiful. It’s sometimes dangerous, but it’s magical. It’s such a power, and it can make some beautiful images… and sounds.”
Similarly, in the book Lynch on Lynch, the director explained his connection with electricity in greater detail. “I like thirties and forties electricity. And I like smokestack industry. And I like fire. And I like smoke, and I like the noise. But sounds have become little. The sound of a computer is just a Mickey Mouse thing compared to real power. And yet there’s a lot of power there, but it’s a different sort of thing, and it doesn’t thrill my soul.”
Further down, he wrote: “Electricity becomes linked with the inextricable,” to which he replied: “Scientists don’t understand [electricity]. They say, ‘It’s moving electrons.’ But there’s a certain point where they say, ‘We don’t know why that happens.’ I’m not a scientist, and I haven’t talked to these guys that are into electricity, but it is a force. When electrons run down a wire — do they have that power? It’s amazing. How did a plug or an outlet get to be shaped that way?”
“And lightbulbs: I can feel these random electrons, you know, hitting me. It’s like when you go under power lines. If you were blindfolded and drove down a highway under those power lines and really concentrated, you could tell when they occurred. There’s something very disturbing about that amount of electricity — they know these things now. A tumour grows in the head. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not, you know, whacking you,” he continued.
In essence, electricity becomes a key motif in Lynch’s films due to its sheer power as a force. Like his films, it possesses an unexplainable nature and signals that a more potent energy is at bay. Electricity can be both beautiful and scary, a combination of words often used to describe Lynch’s filmography.
