Lost Highway, one of my favorite David Lynch films, has just been released on DVD for the first time since its theatrical release 11 years ago. It was the last of his films that was left to be released on DVD. This effort is one of his weirder ones, but I love it because of how revelatory it is of Lynch, the artist.
With the exception of Lynch's debut film, Eraserhead, Lost Highway is probably most representative of Lynch's artistic sensibility, his influences, and his thematic concerns. That is not to say it is his most successful film. Like with any surrealist, a little Lynch goes a long way.
The film is about Fred (Bill Pullman) and Renee Madison (Patricia Arquette). Fred is a jazz musician who is concerned that his wife may be cheating on him. As his jealousy grows, so does the surreal quality of their story. In his book, Catching the Big Fish, Lynch admits that Fred and Renee's story was inspired by the O.J. Simpson trial. He didn't fully realize it at the time, and I suspect that Lynch works these themes out on an almost subconscious level. It becomes all the more eerie when you factor in Robert Blake's casting. He subsequently was arrested for the murder of his wife. The story's Hollywood Hills setting also reinforces the Simpson trial inspiration, while secondarily bringing this film into neo-noir territory.
Clearly, Robert Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly was an influence on the look of the film. The opening credit crawl over the yellow highway divider lines is a quote from the same iconic opening shot sequence in Kiss Me Deadly, a 1955 Mike Hammer film noir. We also spend time at a garage where mechanic Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty) works. This garage is virtually identical if not the same as Nick's garage in Aldrich's movie. And the exploding house in the desert at the climax of Highway is framed similarly to the exploding house in Deadly's denouement. But the movie veers off the gritty track laid by Kiss Me Deadly and travels a more surreal, Lynchian one instead.
Fred goes to a party with his wife where he meets the Mystery Man (Robert Blake), a man who only Fred seems to see. The Mystery Man commands Fred to call his house, telling Fred that he is there. Disbelieving, Fred dials his phone number, and sure enough, the man standing in front of him answers Fred's home phone. When Fred asks how the man was able to do that, the Mystery Man ominously answers, "You invited me in." At this point, you should be well aware that this story is not real. It is taking place in Fred's mind. Another clue that this is the case is Fred's line, "I like to remember things my own way... How I remembered them. Not necessarily the way they happened."
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Article comments
1 - Kell Brigan
Read this review, and then read Nicolas Carr's discussion of the "cult of the amateur." This review is written at, at most, a sixth grade level, and is incredible naive, simplistic and presumptuous.
And, yet, it gets sorted out as a hit by Google et al., along with legitimate reviews by professionals.
The net needs filters. Badly!
2 - Jordan Richardson
Or you could just use your own discernment and "filter" it yourself.
I thought it was a well-done review that connects Lynch's film with an audience that might not necessarily see it. I think a lot of people are turned off by any sort of pseudo-intellectual discussion of filmmaking and, as such, miss out on a lot of good material. More often than not, simplicity is a good thing.
3 - Tony Dayoub
Mr. Brigan, I read Carr's discussion. It seems like given your comments, you seem to be alluding to the fact that any novice can get online now, write on some subject authoritatively, and it shall be treated as fact.
I wrote this review assuming that readers will know that the implication is that it is an opinion. Personally, I feel that it is an educated opinion, and I cite many examples to support my opinion, found both in the text of the film and outside of it as well.
While, I'm a fan of intellectual film reviews, I don't necessarily feel everyone must approach criticism in the same manner, i.e. dropping multi-syllable words in an article with the sole intention of shutting the average reader out. Nor do I believe in reducing a film to the usual simplistic rating, such as "two thumbs up" or "three stars". While there is nothing wrong with either, it is just not my style.
I definitely accept criticism from any and all that read what I've written. Disagreement and debate can be constructive. I just wish you could cite your own examples when making your comments such as this:
"This review is written at, at most, a sixth grade level, and is incredible (sic) naive, simplistic and presumptuous."
Without the examples to support your statement, it simply becomes an insult. To add to Carr's thoughts, the Internet has also allowed the common heckler to feel like they own the web, as they feel no obligation to support their dissent with facts.