Coming
out of "Mulholland Drive", I had a big smile on my face. I turned to my
hombre JoBlo and the first thing that came out of my mouth was: “Godamn
Lynch, did it again”! Call me masochistic but I love Lynch’s mindfuck
movies. I followed "Twin Peaks" religiously, worshipped "Blue Velvet" and fell
in love with "Lost Highway". If you’re fond of any of the titles I just
mentioned, then Mulholland Drive might be for you.
After
the straight “The Straight Story”, Lynch goes back to his more familiar
off-beat feel to offer us this dark, poetic tale of love and regret between
two women. Before I go on, let me give you a back-story about the film.
"Mulholland Drive" was initially shot to be a TV pilot for ABC. When the
pilot was dropped (surprise, surprise), Lynch went and re-shot 26 minutes
of new footage to make it a full feature. Then “Studio Canal” had
Lynch shoot 6 additional minutes to add to the theatrical version (I
assume the sizzling sex scenes).
So
the film plays out like this: the first 2 hours of the film are pretty
straightforward for a Lynch film. They’re like an odd film noir with a
mystery to solve. Don’t get me wrong they’re still shot in Lynch’s
unorthodox, sumptuous fashion. We still get that heavy feel of impending
doom that’s so prominent in many Lynch films, the side characters are
pretty much all quirky, some scenes ooze with uncomfortable tension, a
kool 50’s vibe is tossed into the mix and some of the situations are
hilarious in classic Lynch humor. But for me, the difference in regards to
Lynch’s usual work was that I understood everything that was happening.
But
when Lynch let the other shoe drop with the extra 26 minutes, he totally
fucking lost me and I loved every single second of it. Now you can interpret what happened in so many ways so I
won't
boggle this review by trying to explain it. But I will say that
“Doppelgangers” pop out, miniature seniors run amuck and the weirdness
level jacks up 5 notches. The answers I was expecting in respect to the
mystery which the first two hours set up, didn’t come (or maybe they did but I
just didn’t piece it together). Instead of a resolution, I got a surreal
puzzle of identity and circumstances.
Once
the flick was over, JoBlo, some friends and I discussed it for a while. When I
got home, I came to this conclusion: this film is not meant to be
understood; it plays out like an eerie dream and should be appreciated on
that level. Just because the story doesn’t follow the standard mold
doesn’t mean that I didn’t get anything off it, “au contraire”. I
still warmed up to the themes of the film and the characters. I still got
wrapped in the drama and got moved by certain scenes (the Italian
rendition of Roy Orbison’s “Crying” was beautiful). I still laughed
at the humor (that “actor” meeting was hilarious) and got way aroused
by the steamy sex scenes (those lesbian scenes were hot). And I still felt
fear in the pit of my belly (all about the back of that Denny’s-style
restaurant) and got
spellbound by the beautiful images Lynch slapped my way.
So
I didn’t get any clean-cut answers. So what! I was still fascinated and
touched by the film. Even now that it’s over, I’m still thinking about
it. How many “standard” movies can claim to accomplish that? Nobody
expresses himself through film like Lynch does. Nobody has the rhythm, the
knack at symbolism or the gusto that he does. If you’ve relished
Lynch’s vision before than you will likely enjoy this poem in motion as
well. It’s
Lynch at the top of his game with one of his best efforts ever. Will you
take that walk down Mulholland Drive?