Member-only story
David Lynch (1946-∞)
My very personal love letter (with unpublished photos)
It’s November 1993 in Moscow. The USSR doesn’t exist any more; we have manifold TV channels, and they are even free of propaganda, mainly because the state system is still in flux. And society is still undefined. A liminal age.
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In the 90s, Russian TV channels (be they private, state or semi-pirate, occupying the available TV frequencies) introduce us to the wildest series you’ve probably never seen (and some of which are now hard to get on video-on-demand or DVD-BlueRay), like
These series have become part of the young generation’s operating system, their BIOS, their subconscious, probably even more intense compared to other countries. Because society came from soviet-totalitarian ruins into a dystopian hypercapitalist chaos of the 90ies. And then-we (now-they) needed that kind of satire and absurdity, because the social and political turmoils on the streets were quite impressive.
Like this: