Inland Empire December 3, 2006
Posted by clydefro in : Modern Films, 2000s , trackback
I went to sleep thinking about Inland Empire and now I’ve awakened with Inland Empire still swirling around in my head. I think this is what David Lynch wants from his audience, and it’s hard to argue that his audience isn’t looking for the same thing. Otherwise, why would they continue to watch his movies. Lynch exploits the voyeur side of the viewer like no other film director, save possibly Hitchcock, and he dares you to keep watching. With Inland Empire, he has created his most difficult and challenging feature yet. The three-hour incomprehensible nightmare is a frustrating and bleak step into Lynch’s world, certain to polarize audiences who manage to sit through it.
No matter what anyone says, the “plot” of Inland Empire is going to have some major question marks regardless of how much you dissect what you’ve seen. There’s certainly a narrative to be found which, although extremely fractured, provides a basic outline of what’s on the screen. Laura Dern is playing an actress just cast in somewhat of a comeback role opposite Justin Theroux’s character, an actor with a reputation for bedding his female co-stars. Jeremy Irons is the director of the Southern melodrama-type film, which we learn was first filmed with Polish actors but never finished due to the deaths of its stars. It’s the rest of Inland Empire, meaning the great majority, that borders on incoherence.
Some of the scenes, like the frequent clips in Polish, can be explained while others, such as the humanlike rabbits voiced by Mulholland Drive cast members, are much more difficult to find their significance. Truthfully, no matter how much I think about it, those rabbits who appear as if they’re on a soundstage for a sitcom do not seem to fit anywhere with the rest of the movie. That’s okay, however, as viewers have realized that Lynch’s films can sometimes be puzzles with some pieces from other puzzles stuck in there and with other pieces missing altogether. David Lynch certainly doesn’t play by the rules of conventional filmmaking and that’s precisely the reason he has so many admirers. He’s built up a deserved reputation that allows him to make something like Inland Empire without too much of a backlash from those seeking linear narratives and coherent stories.
With so little information to grasp on to, the viewer truly becomes trapped in Lynch’s nightmare vision. What we often describe as nightmares rarely make sense and the disorienting feeling that accompanies them is often just as frightening. With Inland Empire, Lynch has crafted the closest thing to a nightmare that audiences have seen in some time, if ever. His use of digital video is certainly not the most aesthetically pleasing format for moviegoers, but it’s consistent with the grainy, dreamlike atmosphere he establishes elsewhere.
Aside from the general feeling of uneasiness that I’ve felt since watching it, I have two relatively minor criticisms of Inland Empire. First, I didn’t care for the distracting use of well-known movie stars in a couple of roles of little or no significance. William H. Macy shows up for literally a few seconds in a completely unimportant role and Mary Steenburgen has very little screentime as well. The latter’s role made little sense also, but at least it sort of fit thematically. Harry Dean Stanton has a tad more time on screen, but also seems useless aside from the laughs his bizarre comments elicit. His part is almost reminiscent of the superior role his Paris, Texas brother Dean Stockwell had in Blue Velvet, not in the two characters’ behavior so much as their strangeness in being there at all. There are a couple of more well-known actresses that pop up seemingly for little reason at the very end as well.
The other thing I found distractingly off in the movie was Lynch’s attempts in the second half to jolt his audience like they were watching a slasher film. I don’t need David Lynch using cheap techniques like sudden screams or flashing lights to startle me. The atmosphere he creates thoughout the film is so perfectly nightmarish that stunts like that are somewhat insulting and unnecessary. The movie is effectively creepy without these little tricks. Lynch has always known the value of off-kilter shocks (such as the “Loco-motion” performance here) so I was disappointed to see him use more conventional horror devices.
On another note, the screening I attended was surreal in itself. When David Lynch was introduced, he walked onto the stage with a man holding a trumpet. Lynch stepped to the microphone and said he’d like to begin with a trumpet improv. The man played his solo, the audience clapped and Lynch then read, I believe, a tribal poem of some kind. After the movie was over, Lynch talked a little about the digital video camera he used and how people tend to have problems with movies when they stray “just a hair” from being easily understandable. Of course Inland Empire is more than “just a hair” away from being easily understood and Lynch provided no additional clues, though I’m not sure I’d want to know anyway. Audience members were also rewarded with “David Lynch Signature Cup” coffee sample packs on their way out. “It’s all in the beans…and I’m just full of beans,” is printed on the label along with Lynch’s partially obscured face.
Some people will hate Inland Empire while others will declare it a masterpiece. I can’t say I’m in either camp. I found a lot to like about it after thinking about the movie for a while, but I was frustrated while watching it. It takes you to a place that’s far from pleasant and not somewhere I’d want to return to anytime soon. Then again, the only way to make sense of the thing is to see it again, as though repeating a nightmare. We’re all voyeurs. Lynch knows this. That’s why I’m sure I’ll see it again at some point.
I’ve intentionally omitted a rating because a movie like this is essentially impossible to rate.
Comments»
no comments yet - be the first?