Director: David Lynch
Given the reputation that it has accumulated over the years as an indecipherable Pandora’s box, it is heartening to recall just how accessible Mulholland Dr. is. Like any great piece of art, over time it seems to further captivate and amuse, its uncompromising tone becoming all the more stirring having grown along with it. Narratively, many people have found things to fret about – mostly the labyrinthine structure in which scenes, which work well enough on their own, don’t necessarily present their importance within the overall plot. Most frustrating to many is the last fourth of the picture in which Lynch deliberately pulls the rug out from underneath the viewer. One has to concede that, ultimately, the proceedings in the plot are not altogether satisfying – when one pieces together what Watts has done and who she is, the reality is naturally not as captivating as the bizarre clichés that make up her dreamscape. To approach the picture in terms of plot, however, is to make a grave mistake. Its pleasures come in Lynch’s ability to captivate and confound, to lull into a sense of security and understanding and then to upend the rules that one had assumed that he would play by. For all of the talk of the obscurity of meaning within the picture, one forgets how damn entertaining it all is.
Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment
