An actress’s imagination begins to run amok within her reality when she begins to adopt the persona of a character she is playing. Things become nightmarish when she realises the original film production was abandoned after the two leads were murdered.
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DV looks like neither film nor life, yet reminiscent of both, so it's perfect for Lynch's uncanny ode to cinema. Despite being totally fucking terrifying, this may be his most optimistic film, telling (by my count) dual stories about an actress who faces her demons by playing a role, and a viewer who faces her own by watching it. Both break through. Another viewing would make it clearer, but I don't have the nerves.
“The ambulance guys, they say, what the fuck happened here? I say, he come to reaping what he been sowing, that’s what. They say, fucker been sowing some kinda heavy shit.” Fascinating, horrifying, elemental and atmospheric, yet incredibly nuanced.. always mysterious and involving.. a truly sublime cinematic experience. Surrender your senses.
On a first viewing, I found Lynch's vision a bit too unhinged for my taste, since less resources equals more artistic freedom apparently, but still, this is one of the best Hollywood critiques I've seen, a theme that also fueled much of Mulholland Drive's caustic power. Both works pair up nicely in a Jekyll and Hyde-ish sort of way.
So hard to talk about the films that do impact me the most. Like trying to crawl back into my brain, after - yeah... it would be just great to finish sentences like this without feeling a fraud. In most cases I do. But Lynch, in his better shape, creates an irony barrier. Or a bulshit detecter. As if preventing vague metaphors, of tentative interpretations. There would have to be a subconscious language. Or none.
the abstraction comes from the erradication of language but language is feeling. abstraction without feeling is like watching nothing for 3 hours. cinema will always need language because language is meaning and meaning is feeling
Easily Lynch's most confounding film, I'm not even gonna attempt to figure this one out. If he never makes another movie, than this really was one hell of a finale. Inland Empire often feels like the apotheosis of everything Lynch ever made, a film he's been working towards his entire career. That doesn't necessarily make it my favorite of his films, but it's still a totally spellbinding and unique masterpiece.
I can't rate it right now. Some people think that it is easy to make a film like this and that Lynch just wants to play with us taking a lot of images with no sense. but I truly believe he is one of the most sincere directors in the cinema, He has a truly passion for making art with a diferent kind and in a unconventional way, a thing I love.
with this film, lynch proved that even directors can be deluded but that ancient myth of rhesus: that everything they touch would turn into gold. unfortunately, the closest he can get to gold is via that freud equivalence that equates shit with money or gold.