A conjurer of cinematic dreamscapes that bordered on nightmare, a creator of images that burned themselves onto the back of one’s eyelids, director (and actor, musician and artist) David Lynch cut an indelible figure himself. Most notably there was his hair. Lavishly thick, swooping skyward in a cartoon volute, Lynch’s coiffure, a virile cockscomb, was like Alfred Hitchcock’s profile or John Ford’s eye patch – inherently caricatural and so distinctive that it all but merited a zip code.
The hair, though, was just one aspect of a sharply etched visual persona all the more potent because it was composed of basic elements. And cigarettes. Intrinsic to Lynch’s persona were the smokes he took up in childhood (in some interviews, he claimed to have picked up the habit at age eight), which may have contributed to his death on Jan 15 at 78.
He seemed to have been born searching for an ashtray. Cigarettes are almost unsurpassed among lethal props in the appeal they have exerted throughout cinematic history, yet few directors have treated them as rapturously onscreen as Lynch did, or have been more severely addicted to them in real life. Even after being diagnosed with emphysema in 2020, Lynch failed to give them up, as People noted in a 2024 interview with him.
“I saw the writing on the wall and it said, ‘You’re going to die in a week if you don’t stop,’” Lynch told the publication in November. Read more: Celebrity jewellery designer Lynn Ban dies after ski acc.
