Experience this with me if you will: the dark of a movie house, the drunken sensation one gets from watching a fascinating film, and, most importantly, the knowledge that you’ve just experienced art. The lights come up, and a voice from not so far in the distance says, “Can someone please give me the Cliff’s Notes for that?” It’s true, MULHOLLAND DRIVE, the newest film from writer/director David Lynch (BLUE VELVET, LOST HIGHWAY) inspires creative-induced rhapsody hand in hand with bitter confusion.
Lynch describes his film as simply this; “a love story set in the city of angels.” He refuses to address the nonlinear plot, the same sex love, the box that swallows people whole, or the inch tall geriatric demons. And we don’t ask him to answer these questions; we’re too busy falling in love ourselves. The movie opens with dark-haired Rita (is that her name? she couldn’t tell you for sure, she’s suffering from amnesia), played by Laura Elena Harring, nearly murdered by a man with a gun and then nearly killed in a car accident. Staggering out of the limo she was seated in she crosses Mulholland Drive and goes meandering in the Hollywood Hills until she comes across a quaint looking apartment building where she hides amidst potted plants and naps. When an apartment occupant leaves Rita sneaks in and falls asleep on the bed. And then comes Betty (Naomi Watts). Blonde haired, perky, lips lacquered to red, pink sweater studded with gems so that she sparkles in the sunlight. She’s from Ontario and has come to Hollywood to be an actress. She’s rather surprised to find a stranger sleeping in the apartment her aunt has lent to her. And thus beings their journey to find out who Rita is, and their love affair.
The direction of this film is all Lynch, as all Lynch films are. Lingering shots of the actor’s faces for no apparent reason. Pans across the city’s sky. A very very bad man named the Cowboy, who we know is bad only because he says little but appears sporadically during key scenes in the film. And, most importantly, there is love. Falling in love, being in love, wanting to die because of love’s torments are themes Lynch portrays with lilting sex scenes and heavy-handed violence.
One scene in particular is worth the admission price. Betty goes on her first audition. Her scene is this: she confronts her father’s best friend who is also her lover, ordering him to leave. I was expecting something awkward. I was terrified it would be so embarrassing I’d have to look away. The camera comes up and it’s only Betty and the man she’s auditioning with in the frame. This scene was so intense that I noticed half way through it that several other people’s mouths (including my own) were hanging wide open. And it was so erotic that I could hear people in audience clearing their throats, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, and sliding their hands into the hands of their companions.
