| MULHOLLAND DRIVE |
 2001 –
USA
Director: David Lynch - Reviewed by Linda
The main framework of the film involves a perky young fresh-off-the-plane-from-small-town-Ontario blonde named Betty (Naomi Watts). Gosh, all Betty has ever wanted was to be an actress in glamorous Hollywood, and she is just so darn happy to be in beautiful L.A.! And golly, there is already something creepy going on right from the start—Betty lives in a world where people speak in the most corn-pone Leave it to Beaver dialogue, causing the audience to giggle nervously right from the start. Stumbling into Betty's brand-new life in L.A. is a beautiful amnesiac (the astonishingly gorgeous Laura Elena Harring) who calls herself "Rita" (after seeing a poster of Rita Hayworth). Lovely Rita, we see, has just walked away from a suspicious car accident on Mulholland Drive. A purse full of money, and a mysterious blue key are the only clues that the women have to start unraveling the mystery of who Rita is. Throw in a shifty Hollywood director, a dwarf in a spacious curtained room, a goofy monster behind a fast-food joint, some sinister senior citizens, Billy Ray Cyrus (yes, the mulleted country singer), and a monster twist toward the end that has basically the entire cast switching roles in a baffling way, and you've got... well... a "What the f***?" David Lynch film. Oh, did I forget to mention the much-buzzed-about lesbian sex scene? I'm sure everyone in the audience knew it was coming, if not from previous knowledge, at least from the snortingly funny lead-in clues. When the hot chix finally got busy (in a porn-for-straight-males kinda way), one guy in the front row of the theater spontaneously burst into appreciative applause, once again getting the audience giggling again. Mulholland Drive was apparently commissioned as a TV series, but got dropped (probably because the big-wigs actually saw it, perhaps?). It has side-plots that go nowhere, making me wonder (in a half-assed, not-quite-interested way) what got left on the cutting-room floor. Seemingly important clues are pointed out, to never be brought up again; and many things are never explained. But some of the film, at least before everything you've seen gets turned on its head, is actually quite funny, in an excruciatingly awkward and bizarre way. Not enough to recommend it, except to the most die-hard Lynch fans, but enough so that only a surprisingly small handful of people fled for the exits during the film. And considering the film, that might be saying somethin'. |
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David
Lynch is a filmmaker of many disguises, in my opinion. There is the cleverly
twisted Lynch (Wild At Heart). There is the surprisingly sweet and moving
David Lynch (The Elephant Man, The Straight Story). And, most
dominantly, there is the "What the f***?" David Lynch (Twin Peaks,
Fire Walk With Me, Blue Velvet, Eraserhead). Though Mulholland
Drive has inspired glimpses of the cleverly twisted, I'll have to say that
otherwise the film falls solidly into the "What the f***?" category.
