§ siboliban.org

Don’t Laugh

“If I say I’ve always loved you and I will till I die, don’t laugh”

I’m sentimental, so I like songs like the one I quoted above from the Louvin Brothers. That’s also why I like David Lynch. Yes, I like David Lynch’s sentimentality—from Jeffrey and Sandy’s scenes in Blue Velvet to the golly gee-ness of the first half of Mulholland Drive.

I saw INLAND EMPIRE last week at Austin’s Paramount Theatre. It was a special screening with David Lynch in attendance. 1200 people were in the audience, give or take. When Grace Zabriskie came on screen, within the first 20 minutes of the film, it started.

The laughter.

Now, if laughter is what you feel, then laugh you should. (Isabella Rossellini said that Lynch laughed after a take of the “Baby wants to fuck” scene in Blue Velvet. She said years later she watched the same scene and laughed, too, remembering the shoot.) The laughter seemed quite pervasive among a crowd of which 33% were Austin Film Society members (and presumably “film buffs”). It’s probably safe to assume that many of the non-members in the crowd would claim to be David Lynch fans. So, I wonder, what the hell was so funny? I liked INLAND EMPIRE, although I wouldn’t say that it’ll be one of my favorite films. The laughter that night seemed to be at the film, which was quite inappropriate, considering that Lynch was in attendance. Of course, the AFS executive director set the tone for the night by introducing David Lynch as “one of our national treasures” yet encouraging people to “walk around” while the film was rolling (because of the film’s length and the people’s perceived lack of attention spans). It reminded me of other unfathomable film moments I’ve had in Austin.

In the same theatre a couple of years ago, I saw a screening of Nights of Cabiria. It’s one of my favorite films (and one of my cat’s favorites). When Cabiria was pushed into the lake at the beginning of the film, the laughter started and never stopped. I’m reminded of my Script Analysis professor in 1999 who ripped apart one of my classmate’s criticisms of the film, when he said something about Cabiria having no hope in the end. I wonder what she’d think of people laughing at all of Cabiria’s troubles.

Cue laugh track.

Now, I know I live in Dazed and Confused land, but c’mon. Put away the dope! You’re laughing at Nights of freakin’ Cabiria!

The feeling I get about the Austin film crowd, more so than that they’re all high, is that many of them think they’re too smart for these films. Their ironic laughter represents their ironic, intellectual take on life. Austin paints itself as a city filled with smart, liberal people, but I’m reminded of another film I saw with a laugh track.

I went to an advance screening of Brokeback Mountain with producer Diane Ossana in attendance. The first time Jack Twist entered the same screen as Ennis Del Mar, the giggling ensued. Maybe they were excited about gay cowboys. Maybe they thought Jake and Heath were so cute. Maybe it’s like Anthony Bouvier on Designing Women, who laughed when he was nervous. Maybe they were stoned. At any rate, it’s the maturity level I expect of this city.

29 January 2007 – 10:00 PM