| Sometimes there doesn’t really need to be a difference
between the utterly genius and the overwhelmingly tangent stream
of thought. To those unfamiliar with David Lynch’s maniacal
need to elevate (a.k.a confuse), this Lynchian trip may be more
than you can compute. But for those Lynch cultists out there,
willing to put forth the time, effort and brain capacity to
take in what he has to offer, welcome to his old antics.
MULHOLLAND DR. was originally developed as a pilot for a
two-hour TV series. It was rejected by ABC and later, with
the financial help of the French company Canal+, was taken
over by Lynch to become a feature film. The new backing helped
Lynch shoot additional scenes.
Complete with a well-mannered cowboy, a wheel-chaired godfather,
bite-size grannies and a performance of Roy Orbison’s “Crying,”
sung in Spanish at a surreal night escapade called Silencio,
MUHOLLAND DR. manages to capture the city of dreams at its
peak of strangeness.
Innocently enough, the movie starts with a cool drive on
a glowing night road, Mulholland Drive. A woman wearing a
mysteriously beautiful face is caught in an accident that
causes her to lose her memory. In her amnesiac state she stumbles
into an apartment, where a Hollywood newcomer named Betty
(Watts) finds her. Betty takes her in and decides to “investigate,”
and I put it in quotes because she is so very excited to be
doing so, discovering her new roommate’s real name and life.
The woman calls herself Rita after an old movie poster of
GILDA she finds on the bathroom wall. From here flourishes
a love that can only live between two women and apparently
can only for a short time.
And this is pretty much all I can relate without doubting
myself seconds later. The plot takes trips from Hollywood
to Mars and on its way decides to leave a few loopholes to
see if the audience is on its toes. But what does it all mean?
Discussions will arise and theories will be agreed upon and
later dismissed. The important idea to note is that abstractions
can prevail. In a world where everything strives to complete
a circle, MULHOLLAND DR. leaves the door open for ideas and
thoughts to seep through. The movie has its lulls, carries
scenes you’d swear belong on an after-school special, and
the minutes that pass by without anything really happening
can seem abundant. Nevertheless, Lynch keeps things alive
with comical renditions of God-knows-what-he’s-thinking scenes
and characters so well composed you’ll believe they could
be out there, haunting your every move. And I speak of a cowboy
when I say this...
As the movie nears the end, you expect everything to fall
into place. Nothing does. Welcome home.