With an opening segment that imitates the music and cinematography of Todd Haynes's Safe (1995), David Lynch uses dream, myth and warped notions of reality to tell the fractured story of a failed bit-part Hollywood actress/waitress, Diane Selwyn, let down by fame and her own demons and obsessed with Camilla Rhodes, who is engaged to hotshot director Adam Kesher.
The film effectively takes place in Diane's drug-fueled head; we are witness to her crazy distortions, her wish-fulfillments, regrets, obsessions and fears. Using the dream narrative as a way of presenting two notions of reality in conflict, Lynch does not simplify the opposition between reality and fantasy but actively entangles them. The last 45 minutes are as dream-like as what came before; and the troublesome air of detached, otherworldly ambiguity still pervades, fracturing the seemingly secure distinction between reality and dream we expect to see in films about nightmares and dreams.
Lynch's film borrows from many films, old and new, but ultimately is a film unlike any other with the exception of the director's own Lost Highway and Blue Velvet. It constantly challenges the viewer to interpret what is seen, not only intuitively but intellectually. Yet it is not as pretentious as one would have imagined because Lynch makes us sympathize with the protagonist despite her murderous deeds - an element that was missing in all of his other films except the Straight Story. He does this by presenting Diane's dream alter-ego, Betty, as a wholesome Canadian farm girl destined for fame. Lynch also presents us with an intriguing story that affirms and negates in equal measure. Are Camilla and Diane really lovers or just friends? Who is the blue-lady? What does she signify? Who is the bum behind Winkies? What is the significance of the rotting corpse at Sierra Bonita? Does Aunt Ruth really exist? Is silencio an abstraction of hell or perhaps a self-referential take on the film's status as fiction? Lynch isn't prepared to answer any question he poses, choosing instead to present his "love story in the city of dreams" as a set of interconnected abstractions and motifs.
The acting is top rate, especially Naomi Watts as Diane Selwyn/Betty, who is yet to eclipse this performance. Laura Harring has the requisite Hayworthesque allure as Camilla/Rita, while Adam Theroux as Adam brings an freewheeling arrogance and sublimated paranoid aggression to his role. It was staggering and a grave injustice that not one of them was even nominated for an Academy Award.
This is a film that demands to be seen and analyzed closely. The mystery at the heart of the film remains in Lynch's hands but half the fun is finding consistent ideas from the maze of seeming incongruities that he presents. Upon closer inspection there is a definite sense of a puzzle, perhaps an incomplete jigsaw that teases us with closure but denies the imaginary plenitude of narrative coherence. Ultimately, this is Lynch's key film.
The film effectively takes place in Diane's drug-fueled head; we are witness to her crazy distortions, her wish-fulfillments, regrets, obsessions and fears. Using the dream narrative as a way of presenting two notions of reality in conflict, Lynch does not simplify the opposition between reality and fantasy but actively entangles them. The last 45 minutes are as dream-like as what came before; and the troublesome air of detached, otherworldly ambiguity still pervades, fracturing the seemingly secure distinction between reality and dream we expect to see in films about nightmares and dreams.
Lynch's film borrows from many films, old and new, but ultimately is a film unlike any other with the exception of the director's own Lost Highway and Blue Velvet. It constantly challenges the viewer to interpret what is seen, not only intuitively but intellectually. Yet it is not as pretentious as one would have imagined because Lynch makes us sympathize with the protagonist despite her murderous deeds - an element that was missing in all of his other films except the Straight Story. He does this by presenting Diane's dream alter-ego, Betty, as a wholesome Canadian farm girl destined for fame. Lynch also presents us with an intriguing story that affirms and negates in equal measure. Are Camilla and Diane really lovers or just friends? Who is the blue-lady? What does she signify? Who is the bum behind Winkies? What is the significance of the rotting corpse at Sierra Bonita? Does Aunt Ruth really exist? Is silencio an abstraction of hell or perhaps a self-referential take on the film's status as fiction? Lynch isn't prepared to answer any question he poses, choosing instead to present his "love story in the city of dreams" as a set of interconnected abstractions and motifs.
The acting is top rate, especially Naomi Watts as Diane Selwyn/Betty, who is yet to eclipse this performance. Laura Harring has the requisite Hayworthesque allure as Camilla/Rita, while Adam Theroux as Adam brings an freewheeling arrogance and sublimated paranoid aggression to his role. It was staggering and a grave injustice that not one of them was even nominated for an Academy Award.
This is a film that demands to be seen and analyzed closely. The mystery at the heart of the film remains in Lynch's hands but half the fun is finding consistent ideas from the maze of seeming incongruities that he presents. Upon closer inspection there is a definite sense of a puzzle, perhaps an incomplete jigsaw that teases us with closure but denies the imaginary plenitude of narrative coherence. Ultimately, this is Lynch's key film.