Few American filmmakers have managed to transform the landscapes of film and TV like David Lynch. A child of the mid-century Midwest but also a peerless poet of the Los Angeles dream factory, Lynch's work has been staggeringly influential in how we think of this vast country of ours. His greatness has been recognized by no less an authority than Steven Spielberg, who recently cast him to play another great American director (John Ford) in The Fabelmans.
Six years after Twin Peaks: The Return arrived to put every other 21st-century TV revival to shame, Lynch does not currently have any other projects on the horizon. So, as a testament to Lynch's extraordinary oeuvre, here is EW's ranking of the director's best feature films and full-length TV shows (excluding his short films, commercials, and short-lived TV projects Hotel Room and On the Air which remain hard to see, even in this age of streaming).
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12. Dune (1984)
Even in David Lynch's most flawed movie, there are a lot of things to like. The filmmaker syncs up with the psychedelic elements of Dune, to the degree that its influence on his subsequent films, though understated, is widespread. ("The sleeper must awaken!" could apply equally well to the protagonists of Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive). The incredible opening scene with the Guild Navigator floating in that giant tank is unlike anything yet seen in Denis Villeneuve's more recent adaptation of Frank Herbert's classic sci-fi novel, but trying to shove it all into 2.5 hours was undoubtedly a mistake. —Christian Holub
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11. Wild at Heart (1990)
Like many Lynch films, this crime drama was polarizing upon release (its Cannes premiere drew jeers and walkouts — but it also won the Palme d'Or). Other Lynch projects have found their audience over the years, but Wild at Heart has remained divisive — a trippy fantasy that's part road movie, part demented romance, and part Wizard of Oz tribute.
Laura Dern and Nicolas Cage have a chaotic, us-against-the-world chemistry as lovers Lula Fortune and Sailor Ripley, criss-crossing the country to get away from Lula's overbearing mother (played by Dern's real-life mom, Diane Ladd). The entire film is an unnerving odyssey of sex, gore, and brutality. Those are themes that Lynch explores often, but most of his other films have a method to the madness, and here, all that grimness threatens to take Wild at Heart off the road completely. Still, Dern is unforgettable as Lula ("hotter than Georgia asphalt!"), and Cage sure knows how to rock a snakeskin jacket. —Devan Coggan
Wild at Heart is not currently available to stream.
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10. Lost Highway (1997)
This noirish thriller is Lynch's original ode to Los Angeles, setting the stage for later projects like Inland Empire and Mulholland Drive. The twisty plot centers on saxophonist Fred Madison (Bill Pullman), who's sentenced to death for apparently murdering his wife, Renée (Patricia Arquette). But the man arrested and put in Fred's jail cell turns out to be someone else entirely, auto mechanic Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty), who's released and later begins an affair with an identical woman (also played by Arquette).
Lost Highway plays with many of Lynch's favorite themes, from doppelgangers to dream sequences. Narratively, it's a messy murder mystery, but Lynch has always cared more about vibes than plot. Here, he blends '90s paranoia and '40s noir to create a timeless effect. Plus, Lost Highway boasts one of the most unnerving scenes in all of Lynch's oeuvre: Robert Blake, caked in white makeup, purring, "We've met before, haven't we?" —D.C.
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9. The Straight Story (1999)
The only David Lynch movie streaming on Disney+, The Straight Story can seem like an outlier in the director's body of work. There are no demons, dimensional portals, or explorations of sexual abuse. But the based-on-a-true-story interstate tractor journey undertaken by Alvin Straight (Richard Farnsworth) to visit his dying brother is full of deep emotions. Between Alvin's painful memories, Angelo Badalamenti's soaring score, and cinematographer Freddie Francis' images of Midwestern farms, The Straight Story plays like a beautiful elegy for an America that no longer exists — and its story about forgiveness and endurance feels like an illustration of what the White Lodge really is. —C.H.
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8. Inland Empire (2006)
Depending on how you categorize Twin Peaks: The Return, Inland Empire is still the most recent feature film directed by David Lynch. Sixteen years would seem like an unbearably long time to wait were it not for the fact that we're all still processing it. The movie's quixotic storytelling (full of tangents and rabbit holes, both literal and metaphorical) remains one of the most prescient depictions of life on the internet, and the in-your-face awkwardness of digital video makes a perfect combination with Lynch's exploration of human darkness. This is definitely the performance that should've won Laura Dern her Oscar. —C.H.
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7. The Elephant Man (1980)
Although one of the few Lynch films not written by the director himself, The Elephant Man is actually a perfect follow-up to Eraserhead. Where the earlier film explores a parent dealing with the birth of an unexpected, unwanted child, The Elephant Man dives into what it's like to be that lonely, misfit child growing up in an uncaring world. The acting is superb (John Hurt's performance as the titular tragic figure is one for the ages, while Anthony Hopkin's role is an early career highlight) and the makeup is so good that the Academy was pushed to finally create an Oscar for Best Makeup and Hairstyling. Now that's a legacy! —C.H.
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6. Eraserhead (1977)
Parenthood has never seemed so horrifying. Lynch's 1977 debut feature is a cornerstone of surrealist film, notorious for its inscrutability and macabre imagery. Despite its indecipherable reputation, Eraserhead actually has a deceptively simple plot: Henry Spencer (Jack Nance, rocking an I-just-stuck-my-hand-in-an-electrical-socket hairdo) lives in a bleak industrial city, where his girlfriend (Charlotte Stewart) gives birth to a monstrous creature. After she leaves, Henry is stuck caring for the child, journeying through dream sequences and haunting visions: Women singing in radiators! Men's heads popping off!
With its striking black-and-white cinematography and minimal dialogue, Eraserhead feels like a nightmarish silent film, accompanied by unsettling sound design. It's not Lynch's best movie, but it's certainly unforgettable — like a dream that lingers long after you wake up. —D.C.
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5. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)
Many of Lynch's films take a circular story approach, where key events happen off screen and viewers must fill in the blanks. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me — which serves as a prequel to the canceled-too-soon series — is a rare exception where the director forces the audience to gaze straight into the heart of darkness. It's a lot to take in, which may be why Fire Walk With Me was derided as one of the worst movies ever made upon release. With the benefit of time (and the show's recent revival), we can appreciate the film's dark surrealism and its uncompromising approach to difficult, important material. Originally cast just to play a dead body and an old photograph, Sheryl Lee brings Laura Palmer to life here in a soul-baring performance unlike any other — and dare we say, we like this Donna better. —C.H.
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4. Mulholland Drive (2001)
This now iconic drama famously started as a failed TV show before Lynch reimagined it for the big screen. Today, it's hard to envision Mulholland Drive as anything but a film: A twisty, enigmatic tale that gets to the very heart of Hollywood dreams.
Things start simple enough, centering on Naomi Watts' doe-eyed ingenue as she moves to Los Angeles to pursue stardom, only to cross paths with an amnesiac woman (Laura Harring). But the film soon morphs into a wider portrait of Hollywood, from the glitziest heights to the seediest underbelly (the scene behind Winkie's diner dumpster remains one of the scariest moments ever put to film).
All of Mulholland Drive has an unsettlingly ethereal quality, amplified by composer Angelo Badalamenti's score. Los Angeles has never felt like more of a dream — or more of a nightmare. —D.C.
Where to watch Mulholland Drive: Amazon Prime Video (to rent)
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3. Twin Peaks (1990-1991)
Countless TV shows in the last three decades has tried to rip it off — but there will never be another series quite like Twin Peaks. Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost crafted a murder mystery for the ages, a sprawling portrait of a small Pacific Northwest town and its odd inhabitants.
The show itself is impossible to categorize — part winking soap opera parody, part whodunnit, part surrealist meditation on the nature of evil — but when it premiered on ABC in 1990, millions of viewers tuned in, obsessively following FBI agent Dale Cooper (a perfect Kyle MacLachlan) as he investigated who killed Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee).
Together, Lynch and Frost make for an ideal creative match, blending quirky small-town drama with unearthly horror. Not every episode was a winner: Lynch stepped away for much of season 2, and the back half is famously hard to slog through. But the highs easily outweigh the lows, and decades later, Twin Peaks still stands as one of the greatest TV shows ever made. —D.C.
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2. Twin Peaks: The Return (2017)
Is it a TV show, or is it a movie? Cinephiles will likely be debating this distinction for years to come. Mostly, it's a testament to how the second coming of Twin Peaks managed to upend our expectations of what TV could be all over again. Where the original series kickstarted the type of passionate pop culture discourse that we all know and love today, Twin Peaks: The Return redefined what a TV "revival" could look and feel like. It also plays like a summation of Lynch's whole career, with almost all of his previous films referenced in some way (literally, visually, metaphorically) and yet it still managed to end with an all-new host of head-scratching questions. "What year is this?" —C.H.
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1. Blue Velvet (1986)
Lynch has always been fascinated by hidden darkness — the rotten underbelly lurking beneath a bed of red roses. Blue Velvet is his masterpiece, a disturbing portrait of how true evil can hide beneath suburban banality.
Kyle MacLachlan, a longtime Lynch favorite, is clean-cut college student Jeffrey Beaumont, who discovers a severed ear near his home. His investigation leads him to singer Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini), and he's soon dragged into a sadistic criminal world, even as he starts a chaste romance with neighbor Sandy (Laura Dern, in one of her earliest roles).
In some ways, it's one of Lynch's most straightforward films — or at least as straightforward as a film can be when it features Dennis Hopper huffing gas and Dean Stockwell lip-syncing to Roy Orbison. But even amidst all that brutality, there's a tender hopefulness to Blue Velvet, an optimistic belief that sometimes, light really can overpower the darkness. —D.C.
What else is there to say about a movie that feels so personal, so Freudian, so attuned to how easily viewers can become voyeurs? Well, it's perfect, for one thing. Coming off the critical and commercial flop of Dune, Blue Velvet crystallized what have since become the director's signature aesthetic and favorite themes: Evil lurking behind velvet cabaret curtains, bugs eating at the roots of grass. Of all the '80s movies that looked back at the '50s, Blue Velvet endures for its exquisite understanding of the American obsession with sex and violence. —C.H.