In the opening scene of the Twin Peaks pilot, we're introduced to the mundane routines of high school life: a student sneaking a cigarette, another being summoned to the principal’s office, and a teacher taking attendance. The tranquility is shattered when a police officer enters the classroom and whispers to the teacher, followed by a scream echoing through the halls. Outside, a student dashes across the courtyard, and the teacher struggles to hold back tears. The camera then focuses on an empty seat, a poignant symbol of absence, as two classmates exchange a knowing glance, realizing their friend Laura Palmer is dead. This moment encapsulates David Lynch's signature style—delving beneath the surface of everyday life to reveal something unsettling.

Lynch's meticulous attention to detail often uncovers a disquieting reality lurking beneath the facade of normalcy. The scene from Twin Peaks exemplifies this, setting the tone for his career's thematic exploration. Yet, it's just one of many iconic moments that Lynch fans cherish, each drawn to different aspects of his vast body of work spanning over four decades in film, television, and art. The term "Lynchian" has become synonymous with this unsettling, dream-like quality that has cemented Lynch's status as a legendary filmmaker.

The term "Lynchian" joins an elite group of adjectives derived from artists, like "Kafkaesque," which captures a broader, more universal sense of unease and disorientation. Lynch's appeal is unique to each fan, making his passing a profound loss for those who connected with his singular vision. His influence transcends specific techniques or themes, embodying a broader, more elusive quality.

Watching Eraserhead was a rite of passage for budding film enthusiasts, a tradition that continues through generations. Scott's teenage son and his girlfriend, for instance, embarked on their own journey into Lynch's world, binging Twin Peaks and reaching the Windom Earle era of Season 2. The timeless quality of Lynch's work, often described as odd, is evident in Twin Peaks: The Return (2017), where a character's bedroom evokes the 1950s, a nod to Lynch's childhood, juxtaposed against a surreal, dystopian backdrop.

Twin Peaks: The Return defied the nostalgia-driven trends of its time, leaving audiences bewildered by its refusal to revisit the original series' key characters in a conventional way. This choice was quintessentially Lynchian. Even when Lynch adhered to Hollywood's rules, as with Dune, his distinctive vision shone through. Despite its troubled production, Dune remains unmistakably a David Lynch film, filled with bizarre imagery like the cat/rat milking machine. For a deeper dive into the making of Dune, check out Max Evry's book, A Masterpiece in Disarray.

Lynch's films, such as The Elephant Man, showcase a beauty in their unsettling imagery, blending the grotesque with the touching. This film, set in a time when sideshow freaks were real, tells the poignant story of John Merrick, embodying the Lynchian blend of the disturbing and the humane.

Attempting to categorize Lynch's work within traditional genres is futile, yet his films are instantly recognizable. His ability to weave dark humor, surrealism, and a dream-like quality into his narratives is unparalleled. Blue Velvet exemplifies this, transitioning from a Norman Rockwell-esque setting to a world of dark undercurrents, reflecting Lynch's fascination with the layers beneath the surface of society.

Lynch's influence extends beyond his films, inspiring a new generation of filmmakers. Films like Jane Schoenbrun's I Saw The TV Glow, which draws from Twin Peaks, showcase the enduring impact of Lynchian surrealism. Directors like Yorgos Lanthimos, Robert Eggers, Ari Aster, David Robert Mitchell, Emerald Fennell, Richard Kelly, Rose Glass, Quentin Tarantino, and Denis Villeneuve have all paid homage to Lynch's style, exploring the surreal and the unsettling in their own work.

David Lynch may not be everyone's favorite filmmaker, but his contribution to cinema marks the end of an era. His legacy lies in the influence he continues to exert on filmmakers today and in the future, encouraging us to look just beneath the surface for those "Lynchian" elements that linger there.