Inland Empire

I saw David Lynch's Inland Empire yesterday. Three hours of strangeness. While I was watching it the best description I could think of to relate my emotional state was that it felt like my brain was being detached from my skull.

I'm not really a Lynch fan , but his film making style is always interesting, which is why I usually catch all his stuff. And I have to say that Inland Empire was his most intriguing yet, but only for about the first 75 minutes or so. Then I started to lose interest in the web of craziness and absurdity and vague clues that might resemble some sort of meaning if you took notes and kept your laptop handy. But I was really into it for a while; it was funny (lead character asks an associate of hers if he's having a good day and he replies with a super-long weirdo response that begins with him saying something like, "The possibilities are infinite. I like dogs." I don't know if this is supposed to be funny, but I laughed pretty hard), and completely ridiculous. Lynch's camera just focuses on different, overlooked parts of lives, both internal and external. He holds the camera there, just so you don't miss it. But it requires the viewer to temporarily discard conventions of thought, which can be maddening.

I think Lynch just sees the world differently than most people, and it's watching the world through his idiosnycratic lens that makes the actual viewing worthwhile. I mean, his films almost completely defy interpretation, are sometimes excruciatingly weird, and are slow as can be, but he still manages to make movies that draw a sizable audience. He's able to take the viewer on a ride through a completely different dimension of existence, which is cool; I just wish he was a bit more concise about it all.

But, you know, people like Lynch keep our existence open to possibilities.

Possibly Related Posts

Widget by Jack Book