Tanner Babcock

David Lynch

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Year Title Rating
1977 Eraserhead 8/10
1980 The Elephant Man 7.5/10
1984 Dune 6.5/10
1986 Blue Velvet 8/10
1990 Wild at Heart 7/10
1992 Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me 7.5/10
1997 Lost Highway 7/10
1999 The Straight Story 6.5/10
2001 Mulholland Drive 8.5/10
2006 Inland Empire 9/10

Mulholland Drive

Mulholland Drive is the unfolding of two stories, perhaps simultaneously, interwoven with dream sequences and poignant vignettes, whose relation to one another remains ambiguous. No one knows in what way these two events correlate to each other, because it was left open to interpretation by abstract-but-symbolic horror apparitions. Some say it's a non-linear plot, some say one is a dream and the other is waking life, some say both are dreams. The first one, the amnesiac mystery inspiring-Hollywood-story, is much longer than the second, the hostile alienating deathly violent thriller. The viewer's expectations and emotional attachments to the characters are shattered about an hour and a half into the film, when the blue box makes its appearance. They are then violated by traumatic events in the second part. Everyone has a theory about this film, but my idea is simple. I think Lynch left this film ambiguous, and its conclusions/endings are left undecided or uncertain, based on arbitrary subconscious/emotional impulses. There is no right or wrong answers, every theory is incorrect (or correct), and the realization of this is this film's message.

This film has moments that are spine-chilling terrifying, and then it has moments of real beauty and emotion, making us empathize with (and fall in love with) abstractions. It is possible for a film (especially one like Mulholland Drive) to affect and move the viewer, even condition and emotionally abuse the viewer, without them even knowing why, or even liking the movie. And to accompany and compliment the abstractions and ambiguities in the story, a series of striking, beautiful, and remarkable images are introduced.

Inland Empire

Watching Inland Empire is like watching your worst fears come true. This is the best David Lynch film, as it is the most comprehensibly symbolic, the most (measurably) metaphysical, and the most terrifying psychological horror. Inland Empire is also one of the very few masterpieces in cinema. It probably seems pretty stupid of me to make this bold statement about a film that denied the process of finishing a screenplay, and was almost improvised. But actually, I believe this very unusual and high-stakes gamble of a creative process to be a sort of key, unlocking secrets of the subconscious. It allows a more authentic and unfiltered window into dream imagery and storytelling, to approach the audience in a more confrontational way.

This movie is scary. Like clean-the-shit-out-of-your-couch scary. Inland Empire reveals to the viewer decaying illusions of self and identity. My recollection of the plot: Nikki Grace, the actress, after engaging in an affair with her co-star Devon, retreats into a deep psychosis in her mind, to escape the guilt and impending doom her husband is about to unleash on her. So her life starts to merge with the fictional character Sue Blue's, she starts remembering things from Sue's life (that didn't happen) and starts living the life of a L.A. prostitute (who doesn't exist) after being left by her fictional husband. The past traumas that Sue encountered begin attacking her mind, and she relives the experiences as if they actually happened to her. She is routinely visited by a troupe of dancing prostitutes, which I believe symbolize the memories from this fictional character's life that are now transitioning into hers.

There are a number of recurring motifs, which I believe symbolize mental unrest, emotional turmoil, and the relationship between the conscious mind and the subconscious: The "Lost Girl" (a prostitute watching the events of the plot unfold on her TV and crying), the "Rabbits" of the mock sitcom, the needle playing the vinyl record, "Axxon N." (probably a building or a doorway to a place that doesn't exist, like a hallucination or an apparition). These images recur in the film with remarkable consistency. Inland Empire is the perfect example of a film that affects and stimulates your subconscious mind more than your conscious. It's a film that has immense potential to move you emotionally, without you even consciously knowing what's happening, or why you're feeling what you're feeling. You don't have to figure out the plot to movies like this. You don't have to piece it together. Your subconscious does it for you. You can still feel for the characters and empathize with their situation, even if you don't completely understand it.