While I was helping my mom clean out my childhood home to put on the market a few years ago, I found pictures of myself in full Dorothy get-up standing in front of our old Zenith television, completely and utterly transfixed.
Some of my earliest and most vivid memories are of making my dad pause the tape just before Dorothy steps out into the luscious technicolor of Oz to help me put on a little gingham dress and braid my hair (no small feat for his thick drummer fingers, but he tried his best) so I could skip along the yellow brick road. My film journey begins at about the age of three with my father’s second-generation VHS copy of The Wizard of Oz.
The opening montage that begins Lynch/Oz.
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