Gifford opened with a reading of an unpublished article that was written for Premiere magazine, discussing the collaborative process between him and David Lynch.
Dipping into a Lynch impression, hand wavering gestures and all, he recalled the the director's tonal intentions of the film, describing that feeling when you pick up slacks from the dry cleaners and reach into the pockets, "Fuzzy sandwiches."
Gifford also recalled an anecdote when he sat next to a Standford University psychology professor on a plane. In an effort to validate the script's coherency. He decided to pitch Lost Highway to her after she proclaimed to not watch TV or movies. Gifford asked the professor if it makes sense logically, she said, "Of course. It's a psychological fugue," - a condition where people temporarily lose their sense of personal identity. Often confused about who they are, they may even create new identities for themselves. It's no small no small feat to capture this identity struggle in a film, but it's a task that couldn't be more suited for Lynch.
Lost Highway is a nightmare. The sound design is such an integral part to achieving this, unnerving and piercing. The volume swells to a level that's a hair past the comfort zone. Just enough to make you feel uneasy.
Gifford talked about him and Lynch's dissatisfaction with their first draft because of there was too much humor. Through rewrites, they constructed a straighter narrative, but some of those original comedic moments still exist. The film is responsible for having the funniest, darkly comic take on tailgating.
I ate grasshoppers for the first time. The taste best described as a mixture of sunflower seeds and blades of grass. Or fuzzy sandwiches.
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