Mulholland
Drive STARRING: Justin Theroux, Naomi Watts, Laura Harring, Ann Miller |
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Steven Snyder |
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| “Mulholland Drive” may be the best dream ever caught on film. It is not an experience to be taken literally, but one that is about emotional highs and lows, fears that cannot be expressed in words, and an overabundant doom that seems to exist in the very air of the theater. David Lynch, for all the bad things I have said about him in the past, has created a masterpiece. It is a film that will infuriate some, driving them mad as they attempt to sort through the various layers Lynch has laid upon each other. The LITERAL story is about two dominant female figures. The first, Rita (Laura Harring), is a beautiful woman that we meet in a limousine on a darkened country road. The car stops, she is instructed to get out at gunpoint, just as some racing college kids crash into the limo. Rita manages to escape, but loses her memory as she wanders the streets of downtown Los Angeles. Betty (Naomi Watts) is the niece of a famous actress, and comes out to L.A. to stay in her aunt’s apartment over the summer. Betty finds the distraught Rita showering in the apartment, and forms an instant bond with her. What unfurls is a brilliant noir—a mystery with eccentric characters and eccentric situations that tantalizes even the most passive audience. There were moments in the theater I could have heard a pin drop, moments when the collective unease at particular scenes I was sure was going to lead to screams or scoffs of disgust. One thing is for sure: you will never be bored. For better or for worse, this film sinks its hooks in you and never lets you go. I consciously noticed at one point that I was infuriated with the film, sick of its vagueness, but instantly recognized that I had not looked at my watch once, that I NEEDED to solve the mystery, that I was drawn into this film more than any other this year. David Lynch is the most daring filmmaker alive today, following the passing of the late Stanley Kubrick. He adapted “Mulholland Drive” from a rejected pilot of ABC, and during the first part of the film, one can feel the segmented similarities to a television show. What elevates this work as something more is a final 30-minute head-trip, as Betty and Rita find a key and soar head-first down the rabbit’s hole. It is a surreal experience, not meant to connect, but instead to expand on characters we have already been introduced to, giving them new personalities and new professions and creating general themes that permeate the material. Is it a flashback or a flash forward? Are Rita and Betty the same person? The answers matter not—in the questioning lies the key. If this sounds crazy, that’s because it is. There are sudden lesbian sexual encounters, demons, dwarfs, steamy auditions, and finally a captivating stage play that emphasizes the emptiness of its players and the fakeness of its performance. “Mulhollad Drive” is not meant to be a film that moves from point a to point b. Instead, it is an EXPERIENCE that has a message and goes from a to y to d to s to b to c to give you an inkling of what Lynch is really trying to say. Leaving the theater, everyone had the same sentiment, “what the hell was that?” Yet, no one left early. To accomplish this, Lynch must be given credit. “Mulholland Drive” will be visited often by people compelled to uncover its truths and eager to relive its magic. I have never encountered a film that I hated so much yet was so eager to revisit. I have seen “Mulholland Drive” twice and intend to again. While Lynch’s earlier success “Blue Velvet” was absurd for the sake of being absurd, and could have approached the work in an entirely different way, “Mulholland Drive” could only succeed under his hands and in this fashion. This twisted dream of the corrupt world of Hollywood, its indictment of a culture that addicts people and throws them to the wolves, and its mystery revolving around the depravity of those that want success at any cost is made even better by the feeling that the complete two and a half hours is a metaphor for something greater. Some, such as myself, will believe in this metaphor, will search for it, and will be fascinated by this film. Others will see it as nothing more than a gross, lengthy self-indulgence. Everyone is correct. Comments by David Johnson [be warned this contains numerous spoilers] Is Mulholland Drive a good movie? I don't know that I can answer that. Because it seems to depend on your interpretation of it. However, since it does depend so greatly on your intepretation, the movie can never be a great movie. However, don't get my wrong ... there were a lot of aspects of the film that I really liked. Above all an etheral and intelluctual movie of mammoth porportions. The question I struggle with is artisticall intent or was the movie simply a random product of mayhem. I will develop an opinion eventually. Not because of whatever people say, or anything Lynch could possibly say, but because of the film itself. It'll just probably take another viewing. First off, there is no doubt in my mind that everything except parts
of the last 30 minutes as well as the first 2 hours is entirely a
dream secunce. It actually makes sense is some respects, the floating
camera, Now all that above considered,
I still cannot reconsile and anything beyond something very vague, and
message that is completely lost in obsurity. If this was truly the intent of
the movie, it did not do a good job of communicating that. Since I can't
find any explaination for a few holes in my theories above, and the fact they
seemed so completely pulled out of my ass, I am forced to apply this little
mental exercise to my original theory and modify it. Perhaps the movie is
simply about the differences between reality and fantasy. Now we analyze the
film not from a story standpoint, but from a movie standpoint. It felt
throughout the movie that Lynch was playing with us. Like a master watching
hig puppets perform a grostese dance. He understand full well what people
expect. Aiming the movie at men he toys with the obvious sexual tension
created by two women. He constantly starts a scene that's going to turn into
a wild lesbian romp and then takes it away. Teases us with lines shower
scenes in which we can't quite make out what we want to. Even when the sex
scene starts for real, he first shows us an outline, then takes it away. He
then spends a couple of minutes holding the treat just out of reach. But yes
he finally give us something, but doesn't show us anything nearly as pornographic as we were expecting. Be truthful, you wanted and expected a
good 20 minute sex romp. He does the same thing with death. The grossly
over the top evil music is cued up around every turn. Like a bad horror
flick, we just know they are going to die, but they don't. The we go to
Silenceo, where we think people are saying things but they really aren't.
And he does it again, he gets you to believe something and takes it away. In
fact he really gets you to believe the first 2 hours of the movie, and then
takes those away. He's toying with us. It's almost sadistic. He
throughs
out obvious metaphors that we are meant to read into. Nothing horribly
obsure, and nothing horribly complex, so that we can regonize that they
exist. But so great in quantity that we are unable to piece them together,
even though we always feel like we're at the brink. The truth is, just like
the sex, and the evil music, and the silencio play, the entire movie is a
tease. He wants to see how much you'll read into it. The dream analogies
only reinforce his differences between reality and fantasy. He wants you to
do what his characters do in the movie and invent your own fantasy movie,
with meaningful metaphors. Just like in the movie you'll use aspects of
the movie to construct it -- just like in the film. He contrasts reality
and fantasy very well. Fantasy has clarity and focus to it. On the surface
it makes more sense, but it's still fake. Reality make no sense,
and constantly shows us retreating to the fantasy world that we've
created. He's sticking it to all the reviewers and the whole film community
that continue to see something in his work, even though, what they are
really meant to see is that what they've created is fantasy. It's like the
artist (can't remeber name) who was extremely popular, who for one of his
openings realeased a piece of aluminum that was painted white. Everyone at
the gallery read so much into it -- art critics wrote how insightful it
was, then the artist revealed that it meant nothing. Everything they had
said was something they had invented. |
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