There couldn't have been a better place to see that film. Some might argue for The Chinese Theatre, but Lynch's penetration into the madness of Hollywood was made for the Silverlake/Los Feliz crowd . . . the group of us who had long ago rejected the glamour of showbusiness and hungered for a true and twisted version of the LA scene.
I saw Mulholland Drive alone, and from the moment the closing credits rolled I concluded I desperately wanted to talk with someone who had just experienced what I had. But it's a good thing there was nobody to share my thoughts with that night, because I couldn't get home fast enough to transcribe all the ideas that were pinballing around in my brain. But something did slow me down for a few minutes. On Sunset Boulevard about three blocks down from Descanso, a rabbit darted out from some bushes and stopped just before me. It had probably just escaped from some kid's pen and doesn't have any connection to the film, but I couldn't help but think it was emblematic of the Alice In Wonderland trip I had just taken with David Lynch.
I eventually walked up my bumpy hill and got home, and with the help of a bottle of Sangiovese I spent a few hours trying to make sense of Mulholland Drive. I probably could have written 10,000 words, but I only used the front and back of a piece of 3 hole punch screenplay paper in my attempt at making sense of the film. I remember I felt exhausted afterwards, as if I had some how injured my brain with all the weirdness I was trying to contemplate. And I had planned on writing more, possibly organizing everything into an article/essay could try and publish somewhere.
Except that never happened, and I'm pretty sure today is the first time I've read over what I wrote on that night nearly six years ago. I saw "Mulholland Drive" three times in the theatre, but I have not it seen since until this night in 2007. The notes still make sense, but because they were written fresh from the experience my mind was still a bit cloudy. Anyway, for good or ill here they are . . . .
click on the pictures to see them close-up
I still pretty much agree with my nearly six year old interpretation. But I think calling the whole first part of the film "a dream" doesn't do it justice. It is a dream, but it's a dream that penetrates not only Diane's own mind, but also into the collective unconscious of us all. There’s a strong sense of timeless myth that runs through David Lynch’s work, and I recommend reading some Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung to understand such connections to this film.
It's obvious that Lynch loves The Wizard of Oz, Alice In Wonderland, monsters, and all things 1950. But it's even more fascinating to go beyond those stories and symbols to the archetypes and myths that inspired them. I recently read some articles about Lynch that explain how he has been influenced by Indian and Buddhist stories. And his book talks a lot about transcendental meditation. It's fun to know there's something like 3,000 years of mythology seeping through the frames of all David Lynch's films.
But of course you don't need to know anything about Jung, Campbell, or world mythology to understand and enjoy a Lynch film. We see his images (dwarfs, cowboys, flickering lights, monsters, guns) and they automatically connect with us on that deeper level. And while modern folk tales and stories normally have a clearly definable beginning, middle, and end, David Lynch is trying to go beyond that method. He's trying to show on film what we experience in our minds and soul, whether sleeping or conscious. Which sometimes can be confusing, disorientating, and nonsensical, but so is life.
It's obvious that Lynch loves The Wizard of Oz, Alice In Wonderland, monsters, and all things 1950. But it's even more fascinating to go beyond those stories and symbols to the archetypes and myths that inspired them. I recently read some articles about Lynch that explain how he has been influenced by Indian and Buddhist stories. And his book talks a lot about transcendental meditation. It's fun to know there's something like 3,000 years of mythology seeping through the frames of all David Lynch's films.
But of course you don't need to know anything about Jung, Campbell, or world mythology to understand and enjoy a Lynch film. We see his images (dwarfs, cowboys, flickering lights, monsters, guns) and they automatically connect with us on that deeper level. And while modern folk tales and stories normally have a clearly definable beginning, middle, and end, David Lynch is trying to go beyond that method. He's trying to show on film what we experience in our minds and soul, whether sleeping or conscious. Which sometimes can be confusing, disorientating, and nonsensical, but so is life.
But getting back to specifics of Mulholland Drive, I think it would be less confusing if instead of Naomi Watts in the lead it were George Clooney. The character of Diane/Betty is a lesbian, and it’s her love of Rita/Camilla that drives her into the insane murderous rage that propels the whole story. I’ve heard some people say Lynch was just getting off showing two hot women having sex, but the lesbian angle is imperative to the plot. And it throws us off . . . we’re accustomed to deranged and jilted men stalking their lovers, but having the killer be a woman is disorientating. This twist is piled on top of a non-linear and bizarre narrative to create a total mind fuck.
With this new viewing I've written about 10 new pages of notes, but I just can't explore them tonight. Inland Empire, Lynch’s first film since Mulholland Drive, releases on DVD on Tuesday and I’m gearing myself up for that. There’s a book to be written about those two films, and someday I just might. Because for me, there have been no better films made than Mulholland Drive & Inland Empire in the 21st Century.
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