Inland Empire (2006)
Director: David Lynch
Rating: 10/10
If "Inland Empire" is not David Lynch's best work, it is certainly his most fascinating. More than any of his other films, "Inland Empire" is the culmination of everything Lynch has done, tried to do, said, and tried to say, throughout his entire career. It is vastly different from any of his other works, but is the very definition of "Lynchian." No film has ever explained what Lynch is all about so perfectly as this. It is his greatest experiment into surreality, his most complicated work, and perhaps also his most rewarding. It requires repeated viewings, and many of them, but not to understand. Simply to experience, like looking at the world's most bafflingly intricate impressionist painting. "Inland Empire" is undeniable proof that, more than a filmmaker, David Lynch is an artist.
Trying to explain "Inland Empire" is like trying to explain existence. As Lynch's deepest foray into the surreal, there is no clear plot of any sort. One of the strongest points that Lynch has emphasized with his films is that the cinema was invented as an art form, not simply as a storytelling device. There is a story, perhaps numerous stories, hidden within "Inland Empire," and many ideas as well, but anyone searching for a linear plotline will be left thoroughly flummoxed. Story lines include an actor and actress who are pushed into an affair by various forces, and who are also working upon a remake of a "cursed" film; a Polish town where women are being abused; a woman who sits by her television set, crying, as she watches a sitcom about a family of rabbits, where the laugh track pops up at the most absurd moments; and two apparent mobsters scheming something. The film is structured like most of Lynch's films: the first part is the mystery, the second part the dream, and the third part, the revelations and the descent into the nightmare.
When questioned as to what the film was about, David Lynch said that "it's about a woman in trouble, and it's a mystery, and that's all I want to say about it." Furthermore, Lynch offers a clue to the film in the form of a quote from the translation of the Aitareya Upanishad: "We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe."
What that means, I'm not sure. Lynch says he understands the film perfectly, and no doubt he does, but I feel that the key to accepting the movie is in something Lynch always says about each one of his films: he will never explain the film, because what matters is what each film means to you, the viewer.
But the meaning is not nearly as important as the filmmaking, which ranks Lynch among the likes of Alfred Hitchcock. "Inland Empire" is nothing if not the work of a brilliant visionary. Lynch is a man to be idolized by any filmmaker with a dream: for "Inland Empire," Lynch didn't even bother to search for a distributor. He funded much of the project out of his own pocket. He decided to experiment by filming it with everyday digital video cameras rather than the traditional film equipment, adding frightening realism to the picture, as well as a major artistic twist. Filmed on the standard film stock, "Inland Empire" would be more instantly recognizable as a work of brilliance, but the amateurish look of the digital video footage makes this as unique an experiment as any attempted in recent cinematic history. Lynch is an artist, with a dream, a vision, and he pursues that vision without regard to what the other filmmakers are doing or have done before him.
He is an extraodinarily talented individual. The entire cast of the film has said that they have no clue just what is going on in the picture; but Lynch's direction wrings out such compelling, convincing performances in a film that would seemingly leave anyone clueless. Laura Dern is just stupendous. This is easily and undoubtedly the best performance of her career by far. Supporting her with similarly excellent and mysterious performances are Justin Theroux, Jeremy Irons, Harry Dean Stanton, Peter J. Lucas, and Julia Ormond, with brief appearances by Diane Ladd, Ian Abercrombie, William H. Macy, Grace Zabriskie, Laura Harring, and Naomi Watts, who voices the speaking member of the Rabbit family.
As with most of Lynch's films, though, the power lies within the visuals, and "Inland Empire" has some of the most spectacular visuals in any Lynch production. Lynch manages to make the film look lush and sparse at the same time. It contains all the trademark Lynchian images: the red curtains; the long, tall, lamp which casts an eerie and stale orange glow around small, barely-decorated rooms; the dark, ghastly corridors - it's all here, and more important than ever. Lynch is deeply involved with everything, from the construction of sets to the ever-so-prominent sound design. With ominously-staged visuals, frighteningly enigmatic dialogue and scenes, and the most downright terrifying sound in any Lynch production, "Inland Empire" is easily his scariest film. He sets the audience up, building the suspense ounce-by-ounce with such masterful style that he comes to rival Hitchcock. The most delightfully absurd and spontaneous moment in "Inland Empire": as usual, Lynch sets us up for pure terror, the dialogue becoming more twisted, the visuals darker, more claustrophobic, the inhuman sounds growing louder and louder, but just as we brace ourselves, the characters align themselves and begin some well-choreographed dancing to "The Locomotion."
What is the appeal of David Lynch's work? Is he truly a genius, or as some have said, just a trashy director with a lot of pretention? In my mind, Lynch is an unquestionable genius, and he ranks among the most original, visionary, and brilliant filmmakers who ever lived. There is something about the absurdity, the confusion, the unorthodox approach taken in Lynch's work that really touches something inside of us, something which we can no understand and which frightens us. After watching "Inland Empire" for the first time, and trying to organize my thoughts, the most peculiar knowledge came to me: I understood what the film was about. I could understand the entire thing. However, I couldn't grasp my understanding, put it in terms simple enough for me to explain to another person. But I understood. There is something in Lynch's films far more intellectual and meaningful than anything else in cinematic history, thinly concealed within dozens of thick layers which only repeated viewings can reveal. I feel as though Lynch has a greater idea of what life is all about than any of us, and he explains it through his films. There is much more to be said and which I could say about this film - but for the first time, I understand. As Lynch says, his films speak for themselves. And "Inland Empire" speaks loudest of all.