All language subtitles for 03 Creativity and the Writing Process

[MUSIC PLAYING]

DAVID LYNCH: If you want to
make a feature-length film,

all you need to do is
get 70 ideas, 70 scenes.

And you write these 70 scenes
on three-by-five cards,

and you put them up.

And when you have 70 of them,
you've got a feature film.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

I never considered
myself a writer.

And I don't know how to spell.

I don't know how to type.

To me, writing is like a
way just to remember ideas.

Schools have
developed a formula.

This word, formula, in
the department of writing

is like death penalty crime.

The thing, I think,
should sort of

come naturally and feel good.

And that's just all of
these ideas talking to you.

I think revising the writing
is part of the process.

You don't want to be worried
about how it comes out

when it's starting to flow.

But then as you go back later,
when more and more has come in,

you see that, oh, that
one is talking too much,

and it's getting weak.

And let's take those things out.

And this is much better.

Like that.

This is the thing about a
formula, where they say that,

in the first--

it's a three-act formula, I
think, or something like that.

And I don't know what
the latest formula is.

But something happens, and then
it gets into the nitty-gritty,

and then there's a resolution.

All stories need a beginning.

Where the middle is depends
on where the end is, I guess.

But in a continuing story,
there could be, theoretically,

no end.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

When it comes time to
writing, I like to write.

What I mean is--

well, the last time
I was really writing

was with Mark Frost
on "Twin Peaks."

But at night, we would
write over Skype, Mark

being in Ojai, California,
and me being in Los Angeles.

And we worked during the day.

At night, because
I smoke cigarettes,

my wife, Emily,
would put me outside.

And I would face east.

And I would have yellow
pads and a ballpoint pen,

black, and cigarettes
and red wine, Bordeaux.

And I'd sit in this lawn
chair and work like that.

And if you have a yellow pad on
your lap and a ballpoint pen,

pretty soon that pen will start
moving and words will come out.

And you get on a thing.

And I say even 90% can be
worthless, horrible stuff.

But maybe as you're writing
what you're seeing or thinking,

you'll catch a vein of gold, and
a thing will start pouring out.

And that's sort of the
way, I guess, it is.

You catch a vein.

It could be a character.

It could be a whole
part of a story.

It could be a scene.

But you've got to be--

like in fishing-- with patience.

And you've got to have a
pole, and a line, and a hook.

And you've got to be
ready for it to come in.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

Character comes from an idea.

Something that we see
can trigger a character.

Something can happen
in a daydream, where

a character will just walk in.

When they do come along, it's
as if you always knew them.

They appear as if
out of nowhere.

And again, it's like an idea.

It is an idea.

And you hear them talk.

You know them as if you've
known them for a long time.

You know what they look like.

You know what they're wearing.

You know the way they are, how
they speak-- fast or slow--

the timbre of their
voice, the whole thing.

You know them.

And you write them down.

And even the words--

they come out.

They just come out.

They come out in a
certain way, based

on that character
that you know and who

they're interacting with.

A character is an idea, just
like a location is an idea,

a mood is an idea, sound is
an idea, music is an idea--

the way it needs to be based
on the ideas that come.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

Mystery and detectives and
cinema relate 100% to life.

Most of us, we don't know where
we were before we were born.

We don't know for sure
where we're going after.

We don't know why we're here.

We don't know much
about anything.

We're floating on
a ball in something

they call a universe on the
edge of a galaxy with about 100

or 200 billion suns, and we
are going to football games

and watching TV.

It's, like, pretty crazy.

It's the way it is.

But we're detectives, everybody.

We're looking around,
when we have time.

Sometimes it's just
before we go to sleep.

We start thinking maybe
questions like, why am I here?

What is going on?

Or we see things in
life, and we say, whoa.

Or we hear things and
say, does that make sense?

Do you think that's true?

We use our intuition as
detectives to see what's true

and what's false and try to
figure out what's going on.

And I think that's one of the
great things about detective

stories.

It relates to what
life is telling us.

The ideas tell you everything.

And if you think
it's imagination--

really, you say, I imagine.

By the time you got
the word imagine out,

the ideas have
already fed it to you.

It's not really
you imagining it.

It's the flow of ideas.

And that's where
daydreaming comes in.

Let's say there's
a scene in a diner.

And the diner has all these
windows, and it's the daytime.

And it's got the smell of
cooking and coffee going.

Then sounds of the machines,
and the refrigerator cooling

working, and the sounds of the
Coke machine going sometimes,

the cash register,
different things.

And people going
around, people talking,

knives and forks, plates,
formica, footsteps.

Outside, some sounds
are coming in.

And the light is a certain way.

Say it's in the Northwest, so
it's a kind of Northwest feel--

kind of a cooler,
bluer light coming in.

It could still be--

sometimes can be
warm and friendly.

But depending on
what's going on,

you might want it to
be bluer and colder.

Then you might have
something on the jukebox that

fits in with the mood.

And yeah, it comes
with the idea.

All these different things
and the right mixture

can get the mood to
be true to the idea.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

A script is organized ideas.

So the, say, future director
picks up the script,

opens the script,
and starts reading.

And when they're
reading the script,

they're picturing things
and hearing things.

What you're picturing
and what you're hearing

and what you're feeling
when you read that script--

it's just like catching
ideas from the ether.

And you remember what
you saw, what you heard,

and the feelings.

And those are your
ideas now to follow.

And everything along the
way of making the film,

you're trying to remember those
feelings that came through

from the words, and what you
saw and felt, and the mood.

And the way people talked,
and the way they were,

what they were wearing.

And the things in the room.

All these things now are your
guide to making the film.

And stay true to every
part of that thing that

came in your mind, because
you fell in love with it.

That's the thing you want to do.

You've got the idea.

You're in love with the idea.

All your ideas are
together, say, in a script.

Now you go and you start putting
all the elements together

to make that idea a reality
in the material world.

A film is made up of
many, many, many elements.

So you have to be true to every
single little tiny element

in order to have a chance that
the whole will hold together.

And even so, if you're
really true to every element

and not walk away until they
feel correct based on the idea,

you can get a magical
thing-- that they say,

the whole is greater than
the sum of the parts.

A magic thing can happen when
these elements swim together.

And boom, it's the
magic of cinema.

Anyone who reads a script,
this same thing is happening.

But now this is the one
who's going to make the film.

So this one is picturing
this, and hearing this,

and this like this
for him or herself.

Now the filmmaker's job is
to get all the people that

are going to help to help get
this thing out of the head

onto the screen.

And that's going
to involve talking

to different
departments and getting

them to get the right
clothes, the right light,

the right this, the right that.

So now this was alive
in here, and now it's

going to be alive on the screen.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

If it's new to you, it's new.

They say there's nothing
new under the sun.

If it's new to you, and you
love the world, then you go.

When is it OK to borrow?

I guess it depends on
borrowing or stealing.

And so in "Wild at
Heart," Sailor and Lula--

it just started
creeping in that they

just love "The Wizard of Oz"
and would make references to it.

Because they loved it,
like so many other people.

But it kind of was strange
that Sailor would like it,

but it makes sense to me.

It was a little bit
stealing, I guess,

but it made sense
to the characters.

And in my mind, it
honors this great film,

"The Wizard of Oz," which is
a film that's caused people

to dream now for decades.

And there's something about "The
Wizard of Oz" that's cosmic.

And it talks to human
beings in a deep way.

[VIDEO PLAYBACK]

THE GOOD WITCH: Sailor.

Sailor.

The Good Witch.

Sailor Ripley, Lula loves you.

But I'm a robber.

I'm a manslaughterer.

And I haven't had any
parental guidance.

THE GOOD WITCH: She's
forgiven you all these things.

You love her.

Don't be afraid, Sailor.

But I'm wild at heart.

If you're truly wild at heart,
you'll fight for your dreams.

Don't turn away
from love, Sailor.

Don't turn away from love.

[END VIDEO PLAYBACK]

That's Sheryl Lee,
who's also Laura Palmer.

It's perfect that
she floats down.

I said, are you
afraid of heights?

And she said, no, because she
didn't want to say the truth.

She's desperately
afraid of heights.

We had her strung
up really high.

Fred Elmes did a great
job lighting that.

He had this pool of
water on plexiglass

and was dancing lights.

And it was really,
really beautiful.

And Sailor and The Good
Witch did a beautiful job.

Barry Gifford-- the book
ends not in a happy way.

And nobody wanted it to
end in an unhappy way.

And that's when The
Good Witch really came

in and saved the day.

Barry was really, really,
really great to work with.

Because he didn't care--

I always say, Barry's
books, I love.

But they're very minimal.

The chapters are short,
and they're minimal.

And it's a certain
way he writes.

His writing has
just got these seeds

that sprout and go off in
all different directions.

So he said, David, you
do whatever you want.

And there'll be David
Lynch's "Wild at Heart"

and Barry Gifford's
"Wild at Heart."

He was just really
generous in that way.

But his book, I loved, and
it inspired what came out.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

When you're just starting
out, it's very difficult.

Unless you're from
a wealthy family,

it's very difficult to
have the time and materials

to live the art life.

So you have to live the art
life around whatever job

you have to earn money
to eat and have a place

to live and work.

And it's tough.

But all the time that you're
working to earn that money,

you can be thinking.

And you can be
saving up your money

and getting those
materials and as much time

as you can to dedicate
to your work--

your work, which is the artwork.

When I started out, all I
wanted to be was a painter.

And you don't need a lot
of money to be a painter.

I raised money by delivering
prescriptions for a place,

Herder's Drugstore in
Alexandria, Virginia.

And my father made
a deal with me.

I wanted to get a studio.

He said he'd pay for half
if I earned the money

and paid for the other half.

So I delivered prescriptions at
night in a red and white Jeep

and made enough money just
working a couple nights a week

to get a studio, where I'd
go after school and work

until late at night.

So I've had to do
things to earn money,

but I've got what
I call a setup.

A setup is a place to work
and the tools and materials

to do the work.

So if you're
interested in painting,

you need a place to paint,
and you need paints.

And you need to get all this
stuff together and the space.

And then you call it
a painting studio.

Every single thing
that we do, we

need a place and machines
or materials or equipment

to make it happen.

You asked about
this little bungalow

I had on Rosewood Avenue.

I was there during a time when
gasoline was $0.27 a gallon.

I had a paper route.

I delivered the "Wall
Street Journal."

I picked up my papers at 11:30.

And I made $200 a month.

That was plenty
of money to live.

And I built a shed on
the side of the bungalow

for a little, tiny workshop.

I built some sheds in the yard.

And I had the ability
to make things.

I still didn't have
enough money to paint

the way I wanted to paint.

AFI, at the time I went--

the Center for
Advanced Film Studies--

was housed in the
Greystone Mansion,

a 55-room mansion
in the best part

of Beverly Hills, California.

At night, no one was there.

And I got to take
over the stables.

I had a mini studio
for four years.

I had all the equipment
I could ever dream of.

I had rooms for
storage of equipment.

I had places outside
to build sets.

I had a setup like you cannot
believe for four years.

And I even lived there.

I lived in Beverly Hills,
California, on about a nickel

a week.

It was beautiful.

And what we called
the food room,

where we ate, when I
finished a pack of matches,

I would do drawings
on the inside.

They're abstract, but these
are all Italian Renaissance

drawings.

These have been
found and collected,

and now they're all framed.

They're really
beautiful little things.

So these are my
matchbook drawings

from the days of "Eraserhead."

My friend, Bushnell
Keeler, who really

was an inspiration
in the early days,

said, an artist needs
at least four hours

of uninterrupted, guaranteed
uninterrupted, time

to get one good hour
of painting done.

And this is so true.

Every interruption just is
like a knife stab in the middle

of thought and getting into it.

And you've got to start again.

You start again.

It's horrible.

These days, there's
interruptions

around every corner,
almost every second.

I've said that you have
to be somewhat selfish.

But selfishness, like beauty,
is in the eye of the beholder.

If you're with the right people,
it cannot be seen so much

as selfishness.

It can be seen as that's
your work in life,

and you need the time and
the materials to do it.

But you have to protect
that space and that time,

or you won't get anything done.