The career of David Lynch has, much like his films, been profoundly unpredictable and reliably surreal. His feature debut, Eraserhead is a landmark piece of American cinema, a surreal, post-apocalyptic black comedy horror that plays out like some form of demented silent picture, and was followed with the superb character study of The Elephant Man. From that point, via a few mis-steps (Dune) and light-hearted blips (The Straight Story and TV's Twin Peaks), and taking in such masterpieces as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive, his output has been ever darker psycho-sexual thrillers with a biting surreal edge. By 2001's Mulholland Drive, the Lynch format had become developed enough to experiment outside of the usual strictures of character and plot.
And so, in Inland Empire, Lynch finally returns to the dizzying experimentation of Eraserhead, in the process seeming to complete a loose trilogy with Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive. Shot over five years on digital film, this three-hour mystery is incredibly complex, with a myriad of interweaving plot lines moving through different realities between Los Angeles, Poland and the set of a terrifying sitcom about talking rabbits. A potentially impenetrable nightmare of non-sequiturs and surreal musical interludes, the film is held together by a magnificent, career-defining central performance from Laura Dern. Perhaps the word here should be in plural - her character morphs from declining Hollywood starlet to Southern wife to battered woman to whore and back again several times, all played with a believable combination of strength and frailty.
To discuss the plot of Inland Empire is to miss the point somewhat (at least on the first or second viewing), but essentially it follows the story of an actress becoming trapped inside the character she plays in the strangely named film "On High In Blue Tomorrows", itself a remake of an unfinished, presumably Polish film in which the leads were murdered. The first third roughly follows this storyline, and her embarkation on an affair with leading man Justin Theroux. However, Dern's character soon loses her mind, and we are dragged into nearly an hour of surreal interludes, some comical, some disurbing, all surreal and unexplained. Eventually some form of plot re-emerges and a conclusion of sorts (albeit a baffling and inexplicable one) ties things together before the brilliant end credits leave you with a smile on your face.
Many have turned their nose up at what is, to the uninitiated, a wholly impenetrable and confusing experience. And yet even on that count the film is a success. If nothing else, Lynch manages to convey a sense of mental breakdown. The film is technically brilliant, and personally I think his use of the digital film is extraordinary, although this does not perhaps have the visual beauty of many of his earlier films. The acting is excellent throughout, with the cast populated by a range of familiar faces (Jeremy Irons, Diane Ladd, William H. Macy) as well as Lynch's usual hoarde. Deserving of special mention is the superb sound design throughout, a delirious mix of industrial noise, jarring orchestration (courtesy regular collaborator Angelo Badalamenti) and pop culture references.
This is no entry point to the Lynch canon; newcomers should watch Blue Velvet or Mulholland Drive first. Inland Empire is, however, a treat for those who know what to expect; it delivers the completely unexpected.
5/5
And so, in Inland Empire, Lynch finally returns to the dizzying experimentation of Eraserhead, in the process seeming to complete a loose trilogy with Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive. Shot over five years on digital film, this three-hour mystery is incredibly complex, with a myriad of interweaving plot lines moving through different realities between Los Angeles, Poland and the set of a terrifying sitcom about talking rabbits. A potentially impenetrable nightmare of non-sequiturs and surreal musical interludes, the film is held together by a magnificent, career-defining central performance from Laura Dern. Perhaps the word here should be in plural - her character morphs from declining Hollywood starlet to Southern wife to battered woman to whore and back again several times, all played with a believable combination of strength and frailty.
To discuss the plot of Inland Empire is to miss the point somewhat (at least on the first or second viewing), but essentially it follows the story of an actress becoming trapped inside the character she plays in the strangely named film "On High In Blue Tomorrows", itself a remake of an unfinished, presumably Polish film in which the leads were murdered. The first third roughly follows this storyline, and her embarkation on an affair with leading man Justin Theroux. However, Dern's character soon loses her mind, and we are dragged into nearly an hour of surreal interludes, some comical, some disurbing, all surreal and unexplained. Eventually some form of plot re-emerges and a conclusion of sorts (albeit a baffling and inexplicable one) ties things together before the brilliant end credits leave you with a smile on your face.
Many have turned their nose up at what is, to the uninitiated, a wholly impenetrable and confusing experience. And yet even on that count the film is a success. If nothing else, Lynch manages to convey a sense of mental breakdown. The film is technically brilliant, and personally I think his use of the digital film is extraordinary, although this does not perhaps have the visual beauty of many of his earlier films. The acting is excellent throughout, with the cast populated by a range of familiar faces (Jeremy Irons, Diane Ladd, William H. Macy) as well as Lynch's usual hoarde. Deserving of special mention is the superb sound design throughout, a delirious mix of industrial noise, jarring orchestration (courtesy regular collaborator Angelo Badalamenti) and pop culture references.
This is no entry point to the Lynch canon; newcomers should watch Blue Velvet or Mulholland Drive first. Inland Empire is, however, a treat for those who know what to expect; it delivers the completely unexpected.
5/5
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