Not Coming to a Theater Near You

Inland Empire / USA / 2006

Despite the fact that he’s probably my favourite living filmmaker, I’ve never had a great deal of patience for Lynch’s more self indulgent works- Lost Highway left me somewhat cold, if pleasantly startled, and Mulholland Drive is by far my least favourite of the great man’s films. Which is to say, it’s better than most people manage in a lifetime, but for Lynch it seemed somewhat inconsequential and rather bloodless, and smacked of trying too hard. I’ve always hated those people who characterise Lynch as weird for it’s own sake, there’s more heart, understanding and recognisable real life in The Elephant Man, Fire Walk With Me or The Straight Story than in the most down-to-earth works of gritty realist kitchen sink cinema, it just requires an altered lens through which to view it. And as a storyteller, despite his idiosyncrasies, Lynch has always excelled, his scripts managing to push the boundaries while still delivering on pace, action, sheer entertainment value.

Which all seems to be leading to a criticism of Inland Empire, indeed the first this website would have printed- everyone else has been rabid in their praise. I’m not going to go so far. The film has moments of such transcendent beauty, such extraordinary power that one is left repeatedly breathless. Laura Dern’s performance is astonishing, tough and hard- edged, effortlessly switching between roles and displaying none of the vaguely annoying winsomeness she’s been prone to in the past. Lynch’s capacity for provoking fear or melancholy through a simple use of music, lighting or sound effects reaches some sort of masterly pinnacle here.

But the fact remains that this is, to some extent, weirdness for it’s own sake. It requires a certain level of tolerance, even patience, to endure the entire 3 hours. Show this to a Lynch critic and they’d have all the ammunition they’d need to bash the man into the ground, and not all of it would be groundless. Lynch’s portrayal of female sexuality has always balanced on the knife edge between sympathetic exploitation and a sort of wide eyed schoolboy fascination; in this film, as in Mulholland Drive’s wincemaking lesbian scenes, it tips far in favour of the latter- there’s a scene where it feels as if the director just felt like seeing a great big pair of tits, and there they are. The rabbits, too, feel like an unnecessary indulgence- I watched the original series when it was broadcast online, and found it tedious, a joke with no punchline. So their reappearance here gave me no pleasure.

But the bottom line is that, while this film does successfully provoke emotions like horror, shock, melancholy and even awe, there’s nothing beyond that. There’s no sympathy, no love, no real sense of joy. There’s nothing to rival the infamous ‘robins’ scene in Blue Velvet, or the ending of Fire Walk With Me, both of which have the capacity to move me to tears. By contrast, Inland Empire feels cold, even manipulative, relying on those aforementioned techniques to provoke a response instead of allowing the plot, characters or context to provide an appropriate trigger.

I have a lot of respect for Inland Empire and all those involved, but in the wake of Mulholland Drive it seems to set a worrying precedent. Have we seen the last of Lynch the classical, character driven storyteller, Lynch the romantic, Lynch the crowd pleaser? Is his only audience now to be the one in his head? If there was some sign that Lynch would alternate his styles: I could happily anticipate another Inland Empire if there was another Straight Story to look forward to in the meantime. But I worry that this new fascination with DV, this new liberation that Lynch has been so evangelical about, spells the virtual death of my favourite living filmmaker. And this possibility saddens me more than I can say.

by Tom Huddleston | Source: 35mm print
13 Mar 2007 1:39 PM | Comments (7)

Comments / 7 total / Submit Comment

1. Dave McDougall / 14 March 2007 / 11:15 AM / URL

   “no sympathy, no love, no real sense of joy”?? those are the emotions I that swept over me (like a giant, crashing wave) at the film’s end. Even the credit sequence is an outburst of joy through suffering scored by “Sinner Man”… IE goes very dark, but I believe that the end is light bursting through. I might need to see it again to defend it’s emotional scope further, but this is the polar opposite reaction to mine.

2. leo / 14 March 2007 / 12:25 PM / URL

   I’ll confess that, even before I was a Mulholland Dr. fanatic, its lesbian scenes didn’t make me wince so much as chuckle. Whether or not they’re ostensibly there for Lynch’s own gratification (something that his horror at their misappropriation on the internet would seem to disclaim), they’re quite crucial to the film, as are the sex scenes in Lost Highway. In any case, Lynch makes good cases for the place of sex in the latter film: in the latter part, it’s deeply sad; in the former, rather funny. (“Have you ever done this before?” “I don’t remember.”)

   Ultimately, if Lynch can be faulted for anything here, I think it’s that he uses homosexuality rather more schematically than realistically, deploying it symbolically to suggest various forms of duality. Lynch is always on about duality (he’s one of the few post-modern filmmakers who actually still believes in the opposing forces of Good and Evil), a fact most obviously represented by the fact that about 90% of Lynch’s work features a comparison of one black- and one blonde-haired woman. Here, it’s merely amplified with a little torrid sex.

   All this said, I don’t see how — unless one’s name is Judith Butler — one can accuse Lynch of repeating (much less revelling in) the physical or psychological abuse of women merely by portraying it onscreen. These scenes are always difficult to watch in Lynch, but then they out to be. And they are nearly always balanced by the director’s own patent sympathy for and often (however pat) redemption of the female victim. If nothing else, I would think this would be evident in his casting and directing of Laura Dern in Inland Empire, one of the best female performances to come out of Los Angeles County (broadly mapped) in years.

3. leo / 14 March 2007 / 12:35 PM / URL

   But having said all that, and while counting myself amongst the “rabid,” I’d still say that Inland Empire is never likely to be among my favorite David Lynch things. It just isn’t that much fun, however much I admire and am fascinated by it.

   But then again, whether you think it’s pointlessly obtuse or a marvellous mental and physical workout, it is what it is, and certainly not something to be sad about.

4. tom / 16 March 2007 / 2:21 AM / URL

   No, I don’t subscribe to the image of Lynch as someone who underestimates the seriousness of sexual violence against women, and you’re right, the sex scene in Lost Highway is tragic, and beautiful. But I’m really not sure if the lesbian stuff in Mullholland Drive was, as you say, crucial (as it was in, say, Wild Side). And if you can find a justification for the flashing scene in Inland Empire, you’re clearly trying a lot harder than I was.

   And no, in and of itself Inland Empire is no cause to be sad- it is as you say a fascinating piece of work, if somewhat unloveable. What concerns me is the future- will there ever be another Straight Story, another Blue Velvet? Because without them, Lynch and I no longer have much of a future together. I kind of feel like a Bob Dylan fan hearing ‘Blonde On Blonde’ for the first time- sure, it’s interesting, but I remember when the songs used to mean something.

5. leo / 16 March 2007 / 9:56 AM / URL

   I’m not going to labor to find deep significance for the flashing in Inland Empire, but it seems clear that the prostitute scenes lampoon certain representations of women elsewhere (all of the ditzy sex-talk and the supposed fecundity of a singular and unnamed “he”). I suppose what’s at issue here is whether this scene ultimately becomes an example of that which it lampoons, but it’s interesting that, in comparison to Lynch’s other films, this is the only instance of nudity in the entire film — and a relatively tame one.

   As for the sapphics, it seems to me that Lynch always uses a sex scene as the site of his characters’ physical or psychic transformation, whether it’s a dip into the perverse (as for Frank and Dorothy in Blue Velvet, or perhaps Laura Palmer), a manifestation of demonic possession (as for Leland/Bob), or a kind of metampsychosis (as in Mulholland Dr. or Lost Highway). In Mulholland Dr., the first of these scenes marks another of Naomi Watts’ major shifts of persona, and the second functions partly as a comparison to (or inversion of) the first. I think the masturbation scene also functions pointedly in this latter fashion — and it’s deeply melancholy to boot.

   I guess there’s a case to be made, in all of these instances, that the sex and nudity is gratuitous, that there are ulterior (read: prurient) motives at work, or that there are other ways of suggesting similar things about the characters and their stories than to depict them “doing it.” But the fact remains that these scenes, while unabashedly erotic, are tempered with a certain narrative complexity, and that in this way the sex becomes part of the drama. It’s about having your cheesecake and eating it, too.

   And I think your comparison of Mulholland Dr. to Wild Side is useful, but let’s face it: Donald Cammell is as likely as to get his rocks off shooting a sex scene as anyone.

6. Tfactor / 20 March 2007 / 9:57 AM

   I think, after seeing the film twice, that one of its various themes is overtly, unambiguously and undeniably – the treatment and depiction of women in Hollywood. Once you start thinking about this, the tits scene is fairly obviously part of that theme. As they the women state – it’s about “T & A”, that vital commodity in Hollywood. The addition of a pair of naked breasts can mean the difference between a go picture and development hell – and I don’t think any here would deny that INLAND EMPIRE is partly about Hollywood and all its bizarre proclivities!

   Sure, some of this might be Lynch’s own fascination at play – but don’t forget that he trained as a painter for a long time before he went into movies, and as such, the notion of “the nude” probably has slightly different meanings for him. I’m sure some thought that Botticelli’s nudes were pornographic self-gratification, but people feel differently now. The funny thing is, perhaps on some level the nudes WERE a source of lust-fulfillment for Botticelli. But does that negate their importance as art for the rest of the world? Personally, I don’t think so.

7. leo / 20 March 2007 / 10:15 AM / URL

   And let’s not forget Titian, that guy in Venice. This is for real: his name is spelled T-I-T-I-A-N. Titian! Honest to God! He’s a very famous respected artist. And I don’t think anybody could disagree that his Venus of Irbino (1538) is a really nice painting of a broad on a couch.