Adventure in Lankhmar
(35mm film photograph, heavy grain, sepia and sickly green tones, cross-processed look, by David Lynch and Alejandro Jodorowsky): A sprawling, claustrophobic view across the ancient, smog-choked rooftops of Lankhmar at a perpetual, misty twilight. The city is a gargantuan sprawl of decaying stone, warped timber, and crowded, crooked spires, seemingly carved from shadow itself. The atmosphere is thick, hazy, and thick with smoke, dampness, and unseen whispers. We are looking down the narrow, serpentine canyon of a street far below, barely lit by flickering torches and bioluminescent algae in the gutters. Small, distant figures in dark cloaks—beatniks of the ancient world—navigate the alleys, their faces obscured. The air is alive with the hum of forbidden commerce and arcane energies. Far in the distance, partially veiled by the perpetual fog of the marsh-shrouded city, the gargantuan, impossible structure of the Rainbow Palace or perhaps the Temple of the Gods of Lankhmar pricks the bruised, purple-grey sky. Architectural details are grotesque, organic, and crumbling; gargoyles watch from every cornice. The entire image has a dreamlike, cross-processed quality, like a hallucination of the ultimate urban labyrinth. The camera feels handheld, gritty, capturing the raw, steroids-infused energy of a primal metropolis. Shot on Kodak Portra 400H, push-processed, heavy analog grain and texture.
