Genre: Drama? Thriller? Bad acid trip? Who the fuck knows!?
Cast: Naomi Watts, Justin Theroux, Laura Harring
Synopsis: An aspiring actress arrives in Los Angeles and meets and befriends an amnesiac who is hiding in an apartment which belongs to the actress’ aunt…shit then gets cray cray.
I have watched my fair share of ‘WTF’ films for this blog. I’ve reviewed a film about a sentient blow up love doll and one which featured a little psychotic troll-child in a red raincoat. Hell, I’ve even watched one movie about a murderous psychic helper monkey. However, David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive really takes the cake of crazy. I watched this film expecting something tense and engrossing with elements of surrealism. What I got instead was an overall feeling of confusion and despair…like that time a homeless guy cupped my ass while I was on my way to the gym.
I wish I could tell you more about what this film is about but, to be honest, I doubt you’ll find anyone who knows what this film is about. Even Lynch himself refuses to offer an explanation on what this film about. I assume it’s not because he wants us to figure it out for ourselves but because he has no fucking clue himself. The basic plot is simple enough: woman comes to Hollywood, meets crazy lady, tries to solve mystery, takes part in a really creepy audition before eventually taking her top of and lezzing out. However, that’s only like 50 per cent of the movie. The rest of the movie is an assortment of crazy scenes with creepy old people, a mysterious (and pant-shittingly terrifying) homeless guy who lives behind a diner, a blue box that opens into a different dimension (possibly), and Penny/Hope from Showgirls who plays some junky ho. These scenes don’t really progress the plot or anything. They’re there just to confuse you.
Now, I’m all for artistic and thought-provoking movies if they’re well shot and coherent but I can’t even hand out those compliments to this film because it has the cinematography of a bad 90s soap opera and all the clarity of Lindsay Lohan behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. I imagine that watching this movie when sober is confusing enough but, when you’re high, it feels like you’re watching the acid trip of a very disturbed individual living in Los Angeles. I haven’t seen enough of David Lynch’s work to know if he is, in fact, disturbed but as his filmography includes well-known WTF pieces such as Eraserhead, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me, and a short film called The Amputee, it would not be a stretch to imagine.
I feel like this film was made so that smug “intellectuals” could talk about how brilliant and avant garde it is at dinner parties. In a way, I’m glad that I can now participate in these conversations rather than staying silent while nursing a soggy crème brûlée which has clearly been done under an oven grill as opposed to a blow torch (the true test of British middle-classdom). However, in these conversations, I will be the voice of reason. Is Naomi Watts taking part in a sad-wank and lezzing out really that avant garde? No. What is the point of the blue box? No point. Is this film really just a random assortment of fucked-up scenes that don’t mean anything? Yes, yes it is.
- Naomi Watts does have some good moments when she’s not playing her character like she’s Nancy Drew.
- Penny/Hope from Showgirls! And the greasy looking guy from Anaconda!
- Some beautiful shots of LA….but not Hollywood. Hollywood is junkie central!
- I have no clue what the fuck happened in this movie. In my notes, I wrote “What the fuck is going on?” four different times.
- Naomi Watts engaging in a sad wank is just depressing.
- Scary homeless man scared the shit out of me.
- Is that Sarah Jessica Parker? No? Why do I think she’s in everything nowadays? Why am I disappointed about that?
This movie is like that person everyone knows, the one who likes to think that they’re Zooey Deschanel. The one that tries so hard to be odd and quirky but doesn’t manage to pull it off. Imagine that person lying on a heap on the floor after OD-ing on some sort of hack-drug cooked up in some guy’s garage. That’s Mulholland Drive right there.