Tag: Mulholland Dr.

David Lynch is the type of director that is nearly impossible to separate from his movies. His presence is infused in all his art, of which the varieties range from collage, sculpture and painting to film, television and furniture design. His public persona embraces his Montana hucksterism to such an extreme degree it can be difficult to determine if it’s genuine or if he’s peeking out at us from between cracks. The gee-whiz quality he depicts can feel like an alternate representation of the grinning elderly couple in Mulholland Dr. that Betty meets on the plane, an omnipresent facade masking something more sinister and troubled underneath. Lynch has a creative prowess that is rare and his art embodies a commitment to creativity over entertainment and narrative.

A lot of people are baffled by Mulholland Dr., and they have a right to be.

Superficially, it presents itself as a movie like the ones we’re used to. We’ve got some stock characters, like Rita, a brunette suffering from the staple of melodramas, complete retrograde amnesia, and Betty, the blonde ingénue so fresh to L.A. that we literally meet her getting off the plane. Together they undertake to find Rita’s true identity, and a fairly conventional plot unfolds.