Mulholland Dr.

What a film. Let me repeat that - “WHAT. A. FILM.” David Lynch creates things on drugs. Lacking all logic, Mulholland Drive is not for everyone. Made for a very specific audience, one that enjoys watching a bit of the film-noir and the like. The nonlinear narrative makes it even more complex to understand. But maybe that’s why it’s so fun and intriguing. Nothing like I ever watched before. To put it into perspective, Memento feels like an easy film to understand, after this. Lynch got his inspiration for this film from Bergman’s Persona, which I have yet to watch.

First time I watched this film was about a couple of years ago. I hated it with all my heart. But I unlocked a new genre of films for myself, it was a revelation of sorts, one that was exuberantly stuffed and trashed into my brain, showing new ways in which film can be made; lilliputian old laughing farts running around and crawling out of doors, a Woody Harrelson-lookalike cowboy menace, a dwarf sitting on a chair, the purple key. I was thinking about that film for a long time, afterwards. However, after then thoroughly getting myself acquainted with Lynch’s films and TV shows, such as Twin Peaks (which I loved), I decided to give Mulholland Drive another shot. Maybe something will change.

After watching it the second time, the effect that I got from this film hasn’t changed a single bit. Still as fun and scary to watch as it ever was. However, I grew to understand this film more. I went in with a different approach. You don’t use logic to explain this film, or any of Lynch’s films, for that matter. You feel it. Like music. It was horrible. It was lovely.

$root - whoami
film-noir fanatic
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