Mulholland Drive
d. David Lynch, 2001
The first time I saw David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, I wasn't quite sure what I had seen. After two more viewings, I understand the story better and probably like the film a lot more. As a self-reflective piece of work made by a man who has refused to be tied down by reality, it stands alongside Fellini's 8 1/2. Although confused after my first viewing, I still found that experience rewarding because, if nothing else, I had seen a film that was about nothing other than the genius of its making. Clearly Lynch is one of the greatest working directors, and this is his best film.
The first 100 minutes or so of Mulholland Drive revolve around several different storylines. The first is about a woman (Laura Elena Harring) who has been in a car accident and can not remember anything, she sneaks into a house nearby and falls asleep. Betty (Naomi Watts) , an aspiring actress from Canada, comes to L.A. (where the film takes place), and stays at her aunt's apartment, who is away making a movie in Canada. She finds the woman who was in the accident, and throughout more than half the movie Betty helps the woman (who starts calling herself Rita after looking at a Gilda poster) find out who she is. There is also another loose narrative about a director, Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux), being pressured by his studio to cast a particular girl for the lead.
All these threads make for a very enjoyable and borderline brilliant movie; but in retrospect they only serve as preparation for the magic that is the last 45 minutes of Mulholland Drive. During those 45 minutes, everything that happened during the first part of the movie is switched and Lynch manages to tell his story through such extravagant and strong images that I wonder how he was able to get this financed by a studio (it was first conceived as a tv series much like his Twin Peaks).
My explanation of the film (without giving much away) is that one of the two parts is a dream. Which one is the dream is up to the viewer, but I obviously think one makes more sense.
Above all, Lynch has created a stylish and nearly unparalleled visceral experience. This is, in my opinion, his most beautiful film; blending Lynch's amazing direction, Angelo Badalamenti's music, Peter Deming's cinematography, and Mary Sweeny's editing to a create a film like no other.
Note: I mentioned earlier that this was a self-reflective film for Lynch. By this I mean that the film is filled with many observations about the dangers of dreams created by Hollywood. In Mulholland Drive, he argues that these dreams are irresponsible because of the faulty foundation they are founded on.
