Brushes with greatness
My friend Paul is convinced that David Lynch was sitting a few rows ahead of us at Westgate Cinema tonight during a screening of “Swimming Pool” with Charlotte Rampling (review to follow). Paul maintains that Lynch’s wife is from Madison and Lynch has been known to spend time here.
During the furtive glances I allowed myself, it certainly looked like him: the wacky upswept salt-and-pepper hair, the starched white shirt, khakis and loafers. But my brain finds it hard to reconcile that David Lynch would be catching a movie at Westgate Mall in Madison, Wisconsin. I felt sort of like one of those robots on the original “Star Trek” that were driven to self-destruct by Capt. Kirk’s illogical utterances.
My father (see below) would have thought nothing of going up to Mr. Maybe Lynch and finding out firsthand, and probably engaging him in an amiable 10-minute conversation in the process. Sadly, that part of my dad’s DNA wasn’t passed on to me.
Sitting in the movie theater, I did think of a lot of funny lines I could have used on him:
-“What’s Naomi Watts really like?”
-“I loved ‘Silence of the Lambs,’ Mr. Demme.”
-“You’re that guy! You know, that guy!”
-“Was that Sci-Fi Channel ‘Dune’ a piece of crap, or what?”
Then when we left the theater, Could Possibly Be Lynch and his group were crossing from the mall to the parking lot just as we pulled past in my car. I stopped and waved them on.
