That doesn't mean anything to me. I think the scene works on its own. The only way it would be detrimental is if you needed to know that it was supposedly based on Lynch to tell what it was. It could be out of anyone's nightmares; it's a scene of tension. To boil it down semiotically: "The innocent protagonist is trapped and in danger of being immersed in an element not his own." And then there's the voyeuristic aspect of looking out from your covert vantage point.
Translation: Lynch is living vicariously through Kyle MacLachlan's character because of something he thought up as a little boy, and instead of being imaginative like we know he's capable of being, he chooses to save it for moments where imagination is of no great benefit.
(speak for yourself).
I did. ;)
No. You said "us," as if you were speaking for some imaginary, incomprehending audience.
No, I said "us," meaning the open-minded audience who refuses to succumb to Lynch's trickery. You added yourself to that group.
Naomi Watts as both Diane Selwyn and Betty Elms (obviously an idealized rendition of Diane) was so beautifully fragile and crushed. To me, it was a very sad movie about dreams and the disappointment of reality, which ties in so wonderfully, perfectly with the very core of cinema.
Can't argue with you there...
I think Lynch uses archetypes- both cinematic and cultural (which boils down to Jungian, I guess, though I hate to use that word) to get at emotions, and to explore themes of innocence and corruption.
Ah, but using archetypes is easy; anyone can do it.
I thoroughly disagree. It takes a great deal of skill to arrange archetypes in a way that promotes tension, interest, and empathy. That is, in fact, my definition of storytelling itself, in any medium; that's exactly what each and every storyteller does. Not "anyone" has that skill. I think Lynch has it an in extraordinarly unique and effective way.
Storytelling is not just arranging and defining archetypes. It's introducing concepts that haven't even been though of before, and molding them into elements that gel into a coherent narrative. Lynch either can't or simply refuses to do this, as if he's the "cool kid" for rebelling.
hermetic: impervious or sealed off against outside influences
semiotic: of or relating to semantics
Do you just like using big words to make yourself sound smart? And I'm not saying this to be rude, or facetious, or anything. That just seemed really unnecessarily condescending.
That's special-rich coming from Onomatopoeia[/i][/u].
Umm... OK, you can't think of anything to actually address what I said, so you insult my screenname? Real mature. For one, "onomatopoeia" is hardly a complex word. It may be long, but elementary school children learn what it is really fast, once they're able to comprehend it. I chose it because I love the word, it's fun, fun-sounding and conjures images of ping-pong's whizzing
by (for one), or maybe those campy old 60s Batman episodes where the fights happen and the punches are superimposed with POW! or WHAM! or THUD! Don't get me started on your screenname. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. ;)
For Lynch to expect us to allow his work to exist in a vacuum is unrealistic and disrespectful to his audience.
Translation: "For Lynch to expect any effort from the audience, or any use of their imaginations, is just too much to ask. The movie should do the thinking for us."
This is exactly what all Lynch supporters fall back on when confronted about Lynch's laziness. I love using my imagination and thinking about films, trying to dissect them to find hidden "stuff" (for lack of a better word). But you miss one thing: in Mulholland Drive
, there's nothing to think about. At least in a film such as Fight Club
there are a lot of things to think about, subtle moments that make the films stand out, and puzzle that can be put together. But with Mulholland Drive
, you can't do that because there is
It's like pop art; like a Jackson Pollock from his later years, where he just spattered shit on a canvas and called it art, but anyone
could have done it, and therefore it's not art. Art takes skill. Jackson Pollock had skill, which was evident in his early works. Lynch has skill, and most intelligent people can see that. But instead of using it, he eschews that skill for silly tricks that again, alienate the audience and allows other film snobs to condescend to the ones who refuse to bow to the trick.
Just because you felt provoked doesn't mean that was the filmmaker's intention.
And it doesn't mean it wasn't. Next...
All Lynch succeeded in doing was pissing me off and freaking me out. Hence, provoking me to hate his film for pulling the rug out from under it.
I thought it came together beautifully, myself. Not in any literal-minded way, of course, but in its themes, which are emotional and subconscious. I was very, very satifsied. I love the ending. I can't believe anyone thinks he was being mean and trying to destroy narrative. He was subverting/exploiting narrative to give a greater, more resonant kind of pleasure.
Call it what you want, but I call a spade a spade, myself. You can attach any label you want to it because Lynch left it open-ended in a bad, sloppy way which allows you to do so, not in a way that involves a few intelligent interpretations, but one that involves way too numerous messy ones for any of them to fit perfectly. Note how anyone and everyone who talks about the film has an interpretation of their own. They all make sense in their own way, but they always leave out or don't account for some element (usually the role the key and blue box play in the movie). It is because it's a broken puzzle, a jigsaw puzzle where some of the pieces are missing, broken, or deformed. I myself will try to revisit Mulholland Drive
on my own and see what I can make of it. But I know I won't be too successful, not because of my mind -- it's as good as the majority of other film-minded people -- but because of the structure of the film itself.
Ebert did a shot-by-shot study of the film with a bunch of film geeks and wrote about it in his 2003 Move Yearbook. It, along with his interview with David Lynch were both riveting and illuminating. Lynch even talked about the film, had a chance to clarify some things, but didn't. And the ten clues given on the DVD don't help worth shit. Read: they tried to pound Mulholland Drive
into submission, but finally found a film that they couldn't do that to. Why? The incoherent images. You take any set of images, you can tie them to a story in some way. But that's because the threads are already there. With Mulholland Drive
, no threads are there, because Lynch didn't even bother to put them there. He compares films to music, or to a duck, and while I respect greatly those analogies, because, yes, I can see how it'd work, Mulholland Drive
is ONE FUCKED UP DUCK.
You and Ebert- who can try to ride Pauline Kael's coattails all he wants but will never be 1/10 the writer she was, much as I disagree with many of her opinions- can try to cover for your doggedly literal minds all you want. I still say Lynch is a genius and it's just lack of imagination that causes people not to "get" it.
Oh, COME ON! That's one of the most immature things I've ever read. You insulted (with faulty logic, mind you) me, Ebert, and Kael all in one blow. Congrats.
I've been reading a lot
of Kael lately. The woman was brilliant, but her ego was massive, and she was in need of a good editor. Her prose, while conversational in nature, was bloated. She wrote with a "love of movies" and had "great insights," but it's very hard stuff to read. I'm reading "For Keeps" right now, actually. It's great, great stuff. I flipped right to her "revolutionary" Last Tango in Paris
review right when I got the book, and wasn't let down. But Kael does have her faults. I still love the woman. But for you to try to insult me and Ebert by saying we're trying to be like Kael is just rude, immature, childish, and not even the issue.
My mind, thank you sir, isn't "doggedly literal" at all. Don't jump to conclusions about people based on a few posts you've read. Lynch is not a litmus test for those who are to be lumped into either the literal or figurative bunch. Life isn't that simple. Films especially
Ebert doesn't pretend to be something he isn't. He's a very intelligent man who can connect with all sorts of people. His reviews, even for the most understated of movies, are always a joy to read, because the writing itself
is brilliant. He has such a unique way of putting things, because he can latch on to subconscious elements of the human experience and put those images into words. Kael never rarely (if ever) does this. Ebert is the best of both worlds; everything Kael wasn't, and more. I admire Kael greatly, but it is very rude of you to jump to conclusions, thinking I'm trying to be Kael, or Ebert is, or anyone is for that matter, just because they criticize some movie.
Ebert loves some movies that are way out there. I do too, for that matter. But just because Kael was the first to do so doesn't mean she was the best, or we're trying to copy her. We all have our own voices.
Finally, I noticed you basically ignored the strongest points of my argument. Are you going to debate, or are you going to continue to insult the people who disagree with you? It'd be much appreciated if you continue this discussion, you'd do so without insulting the people involved just because they disagree with you. Thanks.