Both are renowned stylistic innovators known for their indelible signatures: Lynch for the unfiltered surreality of his worlds that reveals more than the unfiltered reality of most; Ellroy for the rapid-fire grit of his worlds where there are no good people, only dirty mirrors held before our faces and smashed over our heads.
Neither get the credit they deserve for their greatest talents: Lynch for his uncanny ability to elicit career-best performances from his actors, allowing them to take as much time as needed to reach the emotional core of each scene, even if its chair-shopping behind the reception desk of the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department; Ellroy for his unforgettable characters that bubble over with depth and pathos, characters caught in the vortex of their own darkness, losing themselves one layer at a time until only a husk remains.
In lesser projects, these great talents are obscured behind those stylistic signatures, hidden. It is when those talents are balanced with their signature styles that something truly unforgettable emerges.
A Lynch adaptation of an Ellroy novel would be a thing to behold.