We have been without any kind of domestic assistance for the last few weeks (at least up until yesterday). Eric’s parents are extremely helpful and put in many hours giving time and attention to our two little kids, unfortunately (at least for us) they were on vacation with every known relative with the last name Olsen – except for us
So we were like most people in America – on our own and let me tell you – it sucked the major schwappage, alas. We survived, but that isn’t what this post is about, this post is about David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive. As we could go nowhere nor do anything without a seven-month-old (can you believe it!) and a 4 +3/4 year old, we rented some movies this past weekend.
I was looking forward to viewing the movie. It received excellent reviews and I believe David Lynch was nominated for an Oscar as Best Director. I have had sort of a hit and miss relationship with David Lynch – Wild at Heart was great – Twin Peaks, not so great. I haven’t stayed awake through Blue Velvet or Eraserhead, but The Elephant Man was awesome.
Mulholland Drive is billed as an erotic thriller, an apt title considering the intensely uncomfortable lesbian scenes and the make-you-squirm-in-your-seat suspense. All was well, until about 3/4 of the way through the movie, when the plot totally fell apart. The sequencing was weird and it seemed more like one of those dreams you have that make you feel all sweaty and out of breath, but when you wake up and give the dream deeper scrutiny, you feel kind of grossed out. In fact, the best way to describe how I felt after watching that movie was confused, embarrassed and befuddled. Sort of like I was forced to watch some perv expose himself in public. ICK!
It just didn’t make ANY damn sense. Yes, I know – THAT’S David Lynch, but damn, last time I checked, any good movie needs a plausible start, middle and finish – and a plot you can reasonably follow.
I will say this, watching Naomi Watts is a fascinating experience. She is riveting and raw. In fact, she was the best thing about the whole movie except for the Spanish version of Roy Orbison’s “Crying” featured in the film.
The movie is worth watching, if for no other reason than as a cinematic experiment, but don’t expect to understand a fricking thing when it’s over except that David Lynch likes shooting really steamy lesbian scenes – not that there is ANYTHING wrong with that.