After a jazz saxophonist inexplicably finds himself convicted of his wife’s murder, he mysteriously vanishes from his prison cell, leaving a strange man in his place and no explanation of how he got there.
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A rewatch. My brother bought it on Blu-ray, and watching it on that format really made me realise the magnificent eye for detail in every scene and every sound in this film. Every frame seems beautifully composed. A fascinating study of male sexual guilt and jealousy. No idea why this was/is so underappreciated, even by some Lynch fans. Still my favourite from him.
A surreal puzzle movie about guilt and delusion, as well as a deceptively sly critique of film noir, porno, and other male fantasies/nightmares. In retrospect, it's a dry-run for Mulholland Dr., where we also see the reflection of the story instead of the story itself. But even though it's intelligent, it's a lot less soulful than MD. Sidenote: isn't it funny that film noir cliches are now less dated than 90s music?
"I like to remember things my own way." A murder mystery that unveils in the form of memories, in which the characters merge and the story is revealed in video tapes filmed by the Mystery Man. What is real and what is imagination?