Tag: David Lynch (Page 1 of 4)

First Watch: “Mulholland Drive” (2001)

Mulholland Drive movie posterMany film critics and commentators consider “Mulholland Drive” to be a masterpiece. Some have called it one of the greatest films of the 21st century. Roger Ebert loved it, and that’s notable as he’s not always a big fan of David Lynch’s films. He opens his review with the following: “David Lynch has been working toward ‘Mulholland Drive’ all of his career, and now that he’s arrived there I forgive him ‘Wild at Heart’ and even ‘Lost Highway.’ At last his experiment doesn’t shatter the test tubes. The movie is a surrealist dreamscape in the form of a Hollywood film noir, and the less sense it makes, the more we can’t stop watching it.”

With that context, it’s a bit of a crime that I had not yet seen the film. I’m old enough to remember watching “Twin Peaks” on television, so I’ve had ample opportunity over the years. The recent passing of Lynch gace me the motivation to go back and check out his films, so I was pleased to see that “Mulholland Drive” was streaming on Tubi.

As Ebert points out, the film doesn’t present a logical narrative. Most people watching it for the first time will be confused, and you just have to let go and follow along with the dream. But Lynch plays a clever trick on the audience, as the film opens with scenes that seem completely real . . . it’s only later that we realize this portion of the film was more of a dreamlike fantasy for one of the characters.

The film begins with a mysterious woman (Laura Harring) surviving a car crash on Mulholland Drive and suffering amnesia. She adopts the name “Rita” from a Rita Hayworth poster and hides in an apartment, where she meets Betty Elms (Naomi Watts), an optimistic aspiring actress newly arrived in Los Angeles. Betty helps Rita uncover her identity, leading them into a web of intrigue involving Hollywood auditions, shadowy figures, and bizarre subplots (like a bungled hit job or a terrifying encounter behind a diner).

Naomi Watts in Mulholland Drive as Betty in pink sweater

About two-thirds in, the narrative abruptly shifts: characters’ identities flip, and we follow Diane Selwyn (Watts again) and Camilla Rhodes (Harring again) in a grimier, more fragmented reality involving jealousy, betrayal, and despair.

If you knew this going in, the film would make a bit more sense, but it also would soften the experience, which is meant to disorient and confuse the audience. I’m eager to watch the film again and experience how it lands a second time through.

Watts and Harring are stunning in the film. They’re both beautiful of course, but they both contribute to layers of sensuality and eroticism that permeate the film. And they brilliantly portray their dreamlike and then reality-based characters. This manifests in many ways, not least of which is the contrast in their two love scenes.

Watts has described the film as a life-changing moment. “That’s why I will never forget what David Lynch did for me. When he cast me in Mulholland Drive, I was literally at the lowest place, and yet he managed to pull away all those masks.” – IMDb She was simply brilliant here, with the contrast between the wide-eyed Betty and the broken and bitter Diane Selwyn.

Harring was a revelation. She had that haunting beauty needed for the role, but also managed to pull off two characters as well. She credits Lynch for her performance. “Lynch told me to ‘walk like a broken doll’… ‘There’s a cloud following you wherever you go, like a dark black cloud that’s very scary.’”

Laura Harring as Rita in Mulholland Drive

For his part, Lynch has always been famously reticent about explaining the full meaning of the film, preferring to let viewers interpret it personally. He has described it as “a love story in the city of dreams” and emphasized its emotional and intuitive origins. Lynch explained: “I always try to tune into those first ideas and let them talk to me, and follow them wherever they lead . . . I guess the initial spark for the film was the name, Mulholland Drive; the signpost in the night, partially illuminated for a couple of moments by the headlights of a car.”

In the end, the film is a brilliant depiction of Hollywood as a city of dreams that can crush the spirit of many who dream of stardom. Now on the more films by David Lynch . . .

Hidden Netflix Gems – Sheitan

After decades of nothing but the excellent 1960 art film Eyes Without a Face, the French cinema has been outdoing itself over the course of the past several years in producing some of the best, most extreme and disturbing horror films in existence. Beginning in 2003 with Alexandre Aja’s relentlessly brutal High Tension, the past decade has also produced, among others, the terrifying but strangely beautiful Inside and the unspeakably violent Martyrs, which is one of the most fiercely anti-religious films ever made. Kim Chapiron’s Sheitan (or Satan, if that wasn’t obvious enough) is a distinctly different breed of horror film from these previous three examples, dispensing for the most part with the graphic gore in favor of unsettling atmosphere and perverse, disturbing humor. It is scary in the way that late-period David Lynch films are scary, thrusting the viewer into a surreal nightmare world from which there can be no escape but outright madness.

Sheitan opens in the disorienting underworld of a Parisian nightclub on Christmas Eve, its cinematography mildly reminiscent of Gaspar Noe’s Irreversible (by far the most disturbing non-horror film France has produced in the past decade), where Bart (Olivier Barthelemy) and his two friends, Thai (Nicolas Le Phat Tan) and Ladj (Ladj Ly), drink and attempt to pick up women. Bart has already had too much to drink, and he quickly becomes belligerent to the point where a bartender has to crack a bottle over his head and forcibly eject him. The three friends and two women, Yasmine (Leila Bekhti) and Eve (Roxane Mesquida), then decide to take the party back to Eve’s home in the country, where they meet her constantly grinning housekeeper, Joseph (Vincent Cassel), and the seductive Jeanne (Julie-Marie Parmentier), both of whom seem friendly but oddly frightening right from the start.

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The incredibly strange uncle who stopped living but was a lot less entertaining than a dirty baker’s dozen of samurai at AFI

As fate would have it, aside from a double bill of “Eraserhead” and an oddly beat-up print of “Sunset Boulevard” presented by David Lynch, I only saw two complete films at this year’s AFI Film Festival at the Chinese Theater multiplex.

The first was this year’s Cannes Palm D’Or winner, “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives” from Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul, aka “Joe.” This is obviously a film and a director with many ardent admirers, including a lot of online cinephile acquaintances I respect, and I can certainly understand why viewers much more patient than I with the “contemplative cinema” aesthetic would love it.

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It’s a sweet-natured and poignant magical realist non-story about a dying man and his family, with many striking individual moments but, by its own design, no narrative tension. Sadly, I seem to have a permanent allergy to the kind of deliberately slow-paced films that focus very intensely on the minutia of daily life with no particular story, even if, as in this case, it features plenty of arresting imagery and involves people who turn into half-monkey creatures and a ghost or two. I only nodded off once, but the gentlemen next to me was pretty much a goner at the 20 minute point. Snoring ensued.

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RIP Dino De Laurentiis

Another link to cinema’s past has left us with the passing of the legendary Italian and eventually American producer at age 91. A truly old school style movie mogul with all the good and bad that went with that, creatively speaking, Dino De Laurentiis was instrumental in launching the worldwide vogue for European cinema, particularly in his partnership with fellow powerhouse producer Carlo Ponti and ultimate Italian auteur Federico Fellini.

During a period I personally consider Fellini’s creative prime, De Laurentiis co-produced two of the director’s most powerful films, the classic tearjerker “La Strada” with Anthony Quinn and the great Giulietta Masina, and “Nights of Cabiria” also with Masina, a great tragicomedy and a huge personal favorite of mine. He also produced two now somewhat obscure adaptations, a version of Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” with Audrey Hepburn and “Ulysses.” Fortunately, the latter was not an adaptation of the James Joyce stream-of-consciousness meganovel, but Homer’s “The Odyssey,” and starred Kirk Douglas in the heroic title role.

No snob, De Laurentiis had a gift for commingling arthouse fare, quality middlebrow entertainment, and complete schlock — some of it fun, some it merely schlocky. Geeks cried foul when he eschewed stop-motion for an unworkable animatronic monstrosity and, mostly, Rick Baker in a monkey suit for his silly mega-blockbuster remake attempt, “King Kong,” but that movie was a classic when compared to something like the hugely regrettable killer-whale flick “Orca.”

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