My Favorite Movies and TV Shows As Explained by Tattoos

While researching for an essay about my extreme attraction to Gene Wilder as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein in Young Frankenstein, I came across tremendous tattoos of him in various poses of yelling and screaming. This got me Googling tattoos of other films and characters that I adore and I was struck at the extreme dedication of some fans and the impressive talent of so many tattoo artists.

Below are my favorite movies and TV shows as seen by tattoos. Unfortunately, I had to edit my list since 1.) I could not find any tattoos of the movie Secretary or of James Spader. When Googling, "Secretary Tattoo", one ends up with a page full of aesthetically questionable women in secretary outfits licking a man's swollen...and 2.) Surprisingly could not find any Spinal Tap tattoos except for a pretty lame Shark Sandwich one and 3.) Also could not find any Kids in the Hall, Newsradio, or Six Feet Under tattoos.

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure- When I was a little girl, I used to put on white patent leather platforms that my Grandmother kept in her clothing store as a "boost" for brides trying on their future bridal gowns. When they weren't in use, I would put them on and stand in the store window doing the "Tequila" dance for passersby.

Back to the Future- My first tangible crush was on Doc Brown. At the age of eight, I would doodle his name over and over in my notebook. I used to imagine what it would be like living in his workshop and taking second to his machinery.

Annie Hall- I'll never forget the first time I saw Annie Hall. I was fifteen years old and my mind had just been blown with the realization that there were people out there like me. Quirky people. Neurotic people. People who nervously and incessantly talked about themselves while flailing their arms around.

Young Frankenstein- Gene Wilder might have been my second crush. I just wanted to run my tiny little girl hands through his mass of cotton candy blonde hair all day, every day.

The Jerk- When I was five, my mother chased me around our family business with a brush, yelling, "Lauren, let me brush your hair! You look like a bum!" I stopped cold in my tracks. I turned to her, put my hands on my hips, and said, "I'm not a bum, I'm a JERK!"

Stop Making Sense- I'll never forget the first time I saw this movie. I was sixteen and rented the 15th Anniversary DVD of Stop Making Sense. By the end of the first song, Psycho Killer, I was floored. I had never seen a singer act so...so....weird! Halfway through, when the lights grew dark and David Byrne appeared with a lamp in front of giant panels displaying conceptual photography, I realized that I was in love.

Beetlejuice- At about six, I watched this movie every day for three months straight much to my parent's dismay. Another dance that I would share to no one in particular was the "Day Oh" dance- equipped with awkward facial expressions and fall over at the end.

Any Marx Brothers Movie- I must have been around thirteen when I first saw the Marx Brothers. I was struck at how their humor- 1920's/1930's humor- seemed so timeless. In fact, even now there is nothing quite like it. My favorite Marx Brother is Harpo- always and forever.

Obviously this man really loves the Marx Brothers too....and Metallica. Don't you remember Larso Marx?

Twin Peaks- I rented the entire series of Twin Peaks on VHS from our local Hollywood Video my senior year of high school. I could not peel myself away from the TV for two weeks while I anxiously awaited each episode. By the time I watched the finale one morning at 2AM, I nearly pissed myself in excitement. I woke my boyfriend up and shouted, "Cooper is in the Red Room!" and he mumbled something about my weirdness and went back to sleep.

X-Files- Mulder and Scully are the reason why I have trouble dating. They pummeled into me that relationships should be awkward and difficult and drawn out. I watched every single episode of this show and tried nicknaming myself "Spooky"- but it didn't hold.

Arrested Development- Well, there is nothing that can be said for how amazing this show was. Any words I may use will just pale in its awesomeness.

David Lynch and The Cow

Last night I attended a screening of David Lynch's 1990 film, Wild at Heart, with the author of the book, Barry Gifford, in attendance. Being a devoted Lynch fan, I typically tell people it's my favorite film of his. The over-the-top performances, the brightness, the landscape- I appreciated more than any other Lynch film. However, after a many a year gap in between the last time I saw it, I was slightly disappointed this time around. Though the performances and aesthetic still work for me, many other aspects of the film- more specifically the sound design and dialogue- didn't. In fact, thought I love the setting, it's the story that really doesn't jibe with me, and that maybe explains why I've never been able to finish the book. For such shining characters, their story was often dull.

Nonetheless, watching Nic Cage in his snakeskin jacket and Laura Dern in her skin tight velour bodysuit cruise down the open road in a convertible with Chris Isaak as their soundtrack, I was reminded of how much I love Lynch's eye for the visually pleasing.

And the weirdness.

Oh Lordy, is that man weird.

So weird in fact that I will tell you a little story about David Lynch and The Cow.

It was 2007. I was sitting at my desk reading the Los Angeles gossip site, Defamer, when I noticed something of interest.

"David Lynch is sitting on the corner of Hollywood and La Brea with a cow at this very moment," I read across the computer screen.

Huh.

Somehow that sentence just seemed to flow naturally.

I turned to my fellow assistants and announced, "So David Lynch is in Hollywood with a farm animal right now. Wanna go take a look?" A Hollywood assistant will use any excuse to get up from the desk that they are chained to for ten plus hours a day- especially if it involves enigmatic directors and mammals- so we jumped into my car and headed off to Lynch Land.

Upon walking up to David Lynch and the cow, I made two mental notes: 1.) That David Lynch has a beautiful shield of gray bouffant; so thick is his hair that I pictured tiny warriors taking refuge behind the defensive structure and 2.) His teeth are as yellow as the Morton Salt Girl's dress.

Unfortunately, I wish I had an epic story to go along with this potentially life-altering moment, but the meeting was pretty anti-climatic. I should insinuate that Lynch obsessively huffed from an oxygen mask or that there were naked over-weight middle-aged ladies dancing behind us during our meeting, but alas...

These are the facts I remember: Very few people believed that that was David Lynch sitting on a corner in Hollywood with a cow, so there were very few people there. David Lynch is very nice. I can't take spontaneous photos very well.

Oh, I should also explain why Lynch was there. He was a one-man Oscar campaign for Laura Dern and her performance in his latest movie, Inland Empire.

Due to the lackluster turn out, Lynch appeared the next day in front of the former Tower Records store on Sunset Boulevard. At this point, much buzz had been circulated about his previous sedentary example. I didn't go to see him again. I'm sure one time with Lynch and cow is enough for me.

My only other Lynch story involves actor/acquitted murderer Robert Blake. I was "friends" with Blake for a short period of time. The quotations are not to allude that we were more than just friends, but that I discovered Mr. Blake ultimately wanted to get into my pants. Why he thought a most likely guilty murderer who was exactly 50 years older than me would perk my sexual interest is beyond me. Blake asked me how I thought he could get back into show business. I honestly told him that most people would not touch him with a ten foot pole. Except for the more provocative directors like Tarantino or Lynch. Recalling that he had been in Lynch's Lost Highway, I asked him if he could give the director a call.

"Lynch and I aren't friends," Blake said to me.

Not surprising since Blake didn't have any friends. Everyone hated him and he hated everyone.

"I was doing an acquaintance a favor," he recalled. "Lynch really wanted me for the part and told me I could do whatever I wanted. So I came to set one day wearing kabuki make-up and the DP nearly had a stroke, because of all that white balance shit. Lynch didn't like it either, but he let me keep the make-up and who ended up being the most memorable part of that movie?! Me! Whose face did they put on posters?! Me!"

Through his extreme egotism, he had a point. He was the most memorable part of that movie. That movie was aesthetically dark as crap and Blake's glaring face offered the only solace.

So those are my stories about David Lynch.

Maybe if I got hardcore into transcendental meditation, I'd have some more.

However, until then, I'll just make up my own Lynchian story about meeting Lynch in my head.