Art Cinema is Garbage

Movies labelled as "Art Films" often like to display their titles as though there is some sort of pride within it. Somehow calling a film "art" implies that it is elevated in terms of quality above other types of movies, and this is simply not true. To begin discussing the subject of Art Cinema, we should look at what exactly defines the term and how it compares to another dominant mode of filmmaking. Generally, when critics use the term "Art Cinema", they are referring to European-produced films produced during the 1950's and 1960's. Many of these films are shot in black and white, and make choices intentionally trying to challenge the classical model of filmmaking.

The "classical model" is based on a simple rule: story comes first. In a classical film, the narrative is the primary focus, and everything within is subordinate to it. This means a few specific requirements are in place, namely in that the narrative has to progress as clearly as possible. The characters should be clearly defined, with specific motives and goals (even if those motives or goals might change over the course of the film, but even then those changes have to be clearly marked). Story should of course progress in a linear casually-driven fashion. One scene leads into the next, and any stylistic choices have to serve the narrative. There was also the fact that classical films are required to imitate reality (or at least, what the audience perceives as reality), and appear as a literal window into another world.

The "classical film" is often associated with the Studio Era, mainly because during this time it was strictly enforced as the only way to make movies. However, it goes back long before, originating in early silent film with devices such as the continuity system. It also is hardly confined to American cinema; the entire French New Wave was based on critics being inspired by Hollywood films and trying to find new ways to utilize their structure while also putting a new spin on it. Today there is more room for flexibility and experimentation, but the classical film still remains the dominant mode of filmmaking.

"Art Cinema" is a counter of sorts to classical filmmaking, and one that aims to resist it by trying precisely the opposite. This movement was popularized in Europe during the 1950's, though there is some dispute over precisely what qualifies as Art Cinema. The two most famous directors to take part in Art Cinema are arguably Federico Fellini and Ingmar Bergman, though other directors have produced iconic Art Films such as Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura. Some critics even label Jean-Luc Godard as a major pioneer of Art Cinema even though his work with the French New Wave purported to do precisely the opposite (not to mention his movies were despised by Ingmar Bergman).

Art cinema rejects causality and clarity in favor of ambiguity. Often plots remain unresolved or open-ended, at least as much of a plot as can be applied to these films. Often the narratives were subjective and open to interpretation, inviting speculation from the audience. Characters motives are psychologically-driven but often times their goals or motives are kept vague. In theory, this allows the audience to see art films as an exercise, movies that make them think and come to their own conclusions.

That is a very good description of the films of David Lynch, but as far as "Art Cinema" is concerned this is simply what critics like to say. In truth, Art Cinema cinema claims to be a new way of breaking the trends of Hollywood, but really all it produces is a jumbled and incoherent mess that tries to use pretty images to make itself look more intelligent than it really is. The use of the term "Art" in its name seems to imply that this different approach somehow elevates Art Cinema above Hollywood narratives in terms of storytelling, but this is not true. If anything, it downgrades it.

This is not to say that there is anything wrong with subverting Hollywood conventions. After all, quite a bit of Hollywood storytelling owes itself to movements in other countries (among other things, film noir has some of its roots in the German Expressionist films of the 1920's), and some American filmmakers implemented elements of the Art Film to far greater effect. David Lynch is a perfect example of someone who brought Art Film techniques to the mainstream while also making decent films that succeeded where his predecessors failed.

Lynch's films are precisely what the likes of movies like 8½, I Am Curious (Yellow), and L'avventura attempted to do. A lot of his movies, like Eraserhead, Lost Highway, Mulholland Dr., and Inland Empire are based on creating a subjective experience. Lynch has gone on the record multiple times refusing to divulge the meanings of his films preferring that the viewer draw their own conclusions, and people have. None of his films ever fit perfectly into the classical model, including his more straight forward ones like The Elephant Man and The Straight Story, and they are based on the idea that different viewers will find different meanings in his films.

Stanley Kubrick is also a director capable of exploring these subjective narratives when he wants to. One of his greatest achievements, 2001: A Space Odyssey, ends on a very open note with literally nothing explained about what happened in the last half hour or so of the movie (though there is a popular explanation often accepted as the "official" one). Similarly, Eyes Wide Shut leaves a lot of plot threads unexplained and unresolved. We never find out anything about the bizarre secret society beyond what Bill Harford observes or is told afterward, and even then quite a bit of that information is open to debate.

More recently, Jonathan Glazer's film Under the Skin used a surrealist and non-conventional approach to depicting its story. Like the old art films, it was character-based, with ambiguous goals and motives in its protagonist. Looking at the narrative structure, there is a lot of influence from a variety of sources. Bits and pieces of Kubrick and Lynch are visible throughout, and there is even a bit of the Italian Neo-Realist movement in there. It would not be far-fetched to assume Glazer drew somewhat from Art Cinema as well, and yet somehow it works.

This raises the question, what is it that Lynch, Kubrick, and Glazer have that Fellini and Antonioni do not? I think it is a matter of looking at why those choices were made? Under the Skin's surrealist approach works because it helps to put the viewer into the mind of an alien. Mulholland Dr.'s subjective structure allows Lynch to explore the darker side of Hollywood filmmaking. As weird as Eyes Wide Shut can get, there is still a basic narrative that can be followed, even if they are left to think about specific moments within it. Context is a crucial part of the narrative, and just because breaking the rules can work does not mean it always will.

Italian cinema had already managed to briefly establish its own identity with the Neo-Realist movement. Films like Bicycle Thieves were still able to convey straight forward and comprehensible stories while still trying something new for the time by focusing on everyday occurrences and addressing the lack of closure that often happens in real life. A lot of Art Films may have broken the rules, but perhaps did it too much and in ways they did not need to. To provide a straight forward example, L'avventura had a very basic premise: a girl disappears under mysterious circumstances. A classical film might have used that as the setup for a mystery, with the plot centered around finding out what happened to her and building up to a big reveal at the end.

As it was made, her disappearance is never explained, and instead the focus is on how this one event affects those who with her before it happened. Already they are defying the conventions of a typical Hollywood narrative, and this is perhaps all they had to do. The movie could otherwise have been a fairly straight forward and easily comprehensible narrative, and it might have worked better that way. Instead, the final product was so disjointed it took a Wikipedia synopsis even to understand the key plot points.

It seems the main problem with Art Cinema is that it is essentially surrealism for the sake of surrealism. The whole movement included a group of arrogant-minded individuals who got so caught up in their quest to break free of Hollywood they forgot to actually make something interesting with their films. A lot of these Art Films didn't need to be so disjointed or confusing. These directors simply think that making the narrative incomprehensible and supposedly leaving room for interpretation automatically makes their films "art". In fact, the whole term "Art Film" comes itself with negative connotations that imply snobbery as though they are somehow superior to other types of movies. In what way are Hollywood productions any less "art"?

The Gay on Film Blogathon: Betty and Rita

So I've started The Gay on Film Blogathon and it's been very well-received. The objective of the blogathon is simple enough, it's about emphasizing well-written gay characters in contemporary media. Naturally since this is an issue I feel strongly about it only made sense to contribute a piece of my own, but first I needed a good pair of characters. Why not use the lesbian couple whose picture remains the first thing anyone clicking on that post will see? Betty and Rita were played respectively by Naomi Watts and Laura Harring in what is arguably one of David Lynch's best films, Mulholland Drive. 

A lot of viewers of Mulholland Drive tend to remember it for its lesbian sex scene. There are actually two scenes of intercourse between the two lead actresses: first one that happens when Betty invites Rita to share a bed, and later on in the final segment (after Rita opens the box and appears to become Camilla) when both women engage in sex, suddenly appearing fully nude, on Diane/Betty's couch. The lesbian elements may be crucial, but it is worth noting that it actually takes a fair bit of time for it to appear. Neither of the infamous sex scenes happen until about three quarters of the way through (in a movie that is almost three hours long). Sure, some men might get sexually aroused by that particular moment but to get there you have to sit through two hours of a brilliant Sunset Boulevard-inspired surreal thriller about the darker side of Hollywood. If you really want to just see two women having sex there's far simpler options. That's what gay porn is for, after all.

I think that may be part of what makes the relationship seen in Mulholland Drive so unusual among other gay couples in film. There is no love at first sight. Betty might not even know she is gay at first (she claims during the first sex scene to have "never done this before"), and the two aren't initially brought together by any form of sexual attraction. They bump into each other by pure chance and at first Betty is more concerned about this stranger unexpectedly turning up in her aunt's apartment. Much of the film is instead their friendship that comes from Betty realizing Rita's trauma of not being able to remember her identity.

The romance is a gradual process, just like a heterosexual romance you'd see in any other movie, including some of Lynch's other films. The romance between Jeffrey Beaumont and Sandy Williams in Blue Velvet, for example, isn't a whole lot different. Both meet up in the street and start as friends, bonding together as they get caught up in a mystery, eventually falling in love. Much like Betty and Rita they spend a lot of time together in public areas, sneaking into other people's houses, and discussing their case in a local restaurant. Mulholland Drive is a bit less direct in approaching the romantic aspect, but at its core the basic dynamics between the characters isn't that much different. One could even argue that a similar thing happens between James Hurley and Donna Hayward in Twin Peaks.

Another thing that I think is curious about this particular relationship is that the fact that they're lesbians is not itself a problem. There is never any point in the film where a character is explicitly shown to have issues with same-sex relationships, nor is it established that society as a whole will reject them for it. The closest thing they have to any such issues is when Camilla/Rita tells Diane/Betty "we should stop doing that" and even then it sounds more like an affair with a married woman than anything to do with the fact that they're both the same gender.

In particular, they have to deal with the simple pain of heartbreak, especially Diane/Betty, who watches her lover cheat on her with a man (it's suggested that she is engaging in sex with men to get ahead in the business) and for that matter another woman. Diane, being the young and reckless woman she is, has trouble coping with Rita's affairs the same way any young man or woman might have trouble seeing their lover with someone else. In theory you could swap out either of them with a man and not change much story-wise.

Quite simply, in the end being in a gay relationship really isn't that much different from a straight one, you still have all the same problems even without any exterior pressure. Blue Velvet also touched on similar issues by way of Jeffrey being roped into an affair with Dorothy Vallens, although that one did not end with Sandy contemplating his assassination. In that sense, I think Mulholland Drive is a solid look at a gay couple in that the fact that they are gay is really not that big an issue, at least not story-wise. The "story", if you can call it that, is really about the darker side of Hollywood's filmmaking scene, it just happens to be experienced through the eyes of two women who happen to be gay.

Twin Peaks is BACK!

I don't normally discuss television on this blog, but being the David Lynch fan I am, I had to share a few thoughts in light of the recent news that the cult TV series Twin Peaks is getting a revival. I first watched the show while I was in college about two years ago, and I quickly got hooked. It came as a huge shock when the series ended on its infamous cliffhanger, because I was so invested I wanted to see more. I wanted to know what happened to Cooper and all his friends.

Then one day by total chance I stumbled across an IMDB message board that led me to a Facebook page called Bring Back Twin Peaks to TV (now known as Twin Peaks Worldwide). It got me thinking about the idea of a Twin Peaks revival and where such a thing could go. Rumors were spreading for a while and certain actors were expressing interest. Finally, just a few days ago, I was on the IMDB home page and found an article announcing that a revival of Twin Peaks was in fact happening.

That's right. David Lynch and Mark Frost are actually continuing the story of Twin Peaks. This might just mean we'll finally get that long-desired closure. At the moment virtually nothing is known about what is planned for this proposed revival. All I know is that a few actors have expressed interest in returning, Lynch is on board with the project, and it's supposed to be ready by 2016. However, I believe that makes this a perfect opportunity to speculate on where the series could potentially go.

While I'm not 100% certain of who is returning, there are a few characters I can safely assume are not likely to be present in the new series. A few members of the cast have unfortunately died since the show aired. In particular, Jack Nance died in 1996 and Don S. Davis died in 2008. This means that it is unlikely we will be seeing the return of Pete Martell or Major Garland Briggs, at least not directly. In the case of Briggs, while he himself might not make an appearance, he did have a number of mysterious top secret cases that could still allow him to have an (admittedly indirect) impact on the story.

Seeing as it's been twenty-five years since the show aired, it stands to reason that there will be some changes in the cast. I would suspect it to be a mix of old familiar faces (although they will be much older now), and some new characters. There is one new character that was practically set up by the second season of Twin Peaks, and seems a logical addition to the cast. It was established at the end of Season 1 that the police secretary Lucy Moran was pregnant. The show ended before she actually gave birth but she was going to have a baby. 25 years later we could see that child, now grown up. I have a theory for where that aspect could go as well.

You see, I suspect that Lucy's child goes on to become a cop as well. I suspect that by the time this revival takes place, Sheriff Truman will have retired (though that won't stop him from being a major character) and either Andy or Hawk will have taken over the station. I can't quite decide which so I'm leaning towards the possibility that they'll both be running it together, with Lucy's daughter as their newest deputy.

Speaking of law enforcement, that leaves a few questions open about what's been going on in the FBI for the past 25 years. I suspect Gordon Cole might have retired by this point, so I'm not entirely sure if Lynch would be willing to reprise his role. He was always a lot of fun in the series so it would be nice if they could find a way to bring him back if only for one or two episodes.

The rest of the FBI cast will probably be shaken up a bit as well. I can't say I expect David Duchovny to come back as Denise Bryson. Albert Rosenfield might still be there, but there will probably be some new agents as well. I would half-expect maybe a female FBI agent being part of the new cast. It would be a nice change since despite the large number of strong female characters the series hasn't had very many women in law enforcement.

As far as other new characters goes, it would make sense for there to have been a few changes of staff at the Double R Diner. This means we might be seeing some new waitresses in the cast. I also suspect there might be some new criminals (though it would be nice to see a Canadian character who doesn't turn out to be evil for once). It also stands to reason that we'll be seeing some new residents in Twin Peaks with some new storylines but beyond that I could not begin to speculate.

I think it is also fair to expect that we will be seeing more of the Black Lodge. I'm not sure if it would look precisely the same, but presumably it will still have the distorted otherworldly vibe that made it such a memorable part of the original show. It would be nice to see Michael J. Anderson return as the strange "Man From Another Place", but I'd be open to seeing some new characters in here. Frank Silva died in 1995, but I would imagine BOB would still be part of the story. Several people have proposed the explanation that BOB takes on the form of his most recent host, meaning that in this case he could now be played by Ray Wise (Leland Palmer).

Adding a few more levels of curiosity, there are a few characters that died during the run of the show that I'm not sure we've heard the last of. Laura Palmer will likely return through the Black Lodge (in fact one of the main arguments for a revival happening right now was that she herself said "I'll see you again in 25 years" near the end of season 2). Also, it is worth mentioning that Sheryl Lee might just be the only actress on the show to have been killed off twice. She's already played two separate characters so what's to stop her doing a third? Admittedly if that did happen, the big question would be if she gets murdered again. It would be a nice change if she could actually survive for once.

There are a few other characters who could still come back despite having the slight problem of being dead. Ray Wise has expressed interest before, so he might still be able to show up in the black lodge as Leland Palmer (although there is also the theory that he could be cast as BOB). Apparently Walter Olkewitz is interested in returning as Jaques Renault, probably also through the Black Lodge. The show itself alluded the possibility that we haven't seen the last of Josie Packard, who in a haunting final shot is revealed to apparently be trapped in a wooden knob. This plot thread remains unresolved in the existing series, but I do think it could be addressed in this revival.

There was also the issue of Benjamin Horne. In the series 2 finale, Horne was stuck on the head and collapsed with blood on his face, but it was not clear if he was dead or just unconscious. Assuming he was unconscious and got medical aid, it would make sense that he is still running the Great Northern Hotel 25 years later. Perhaps his quest for redemption paid off and business is going even better for him now. Bobby Briggs was also starting to get into business and put his drug life behind him so maybe he's made some good progress, too.

Assuming Ben Horne died, then perhaps it is Audrey who has inherited the Great Northern Hotel. As a teenager, Audrey was always a little bit mischievous and did have a certain fondness for causing trouble, but she could have grown out of it by now. Alternatively, perhaps that just grew into a different kind of trouble and she's becoming much like her father was at the start of the series. She could be involved in a bunch of illegal and shady business.

Then again, she was very close to Agent Cooper, so perhaps she's in the middle, trying to be righteous as inspired by Cooper but also being clever like her dad. Yet another crazy idea for Audrey could eliminate the Great Northern Hotel entirely: seeing as she was very close to Cooper, maybe she was eventually inspired to pursue a career in law enforcement and herself join the FBI. Perhaps she became an FBI Agent hoping she could eventually find out what happened to Cooper after he suddenly started acting all weird.

But of course there is obviously one question everybody wants answered: what happened to Dale Cooper? The answer is quite simple. I still don't know. In the Season 2 finale, Cooper was apparently released from the Black Lodge, only for it to be revealed that he was actually possessed by BOB which in turn hinted at a less than pleasant fate for Annie. The movie Fire Walk With Me had a surreal moment when Annie shows up in Laura Palmer's bed covered in blood, and tells her "The Good Dale" is still trapped in the Lodge (we also see Cooper and Laura together there at the very end). This would imply that BOB is still running around in his body while the "real" Cooper we have come to know and love is still in the Black Lodge.

That seems a straight forward enough explanation for what happened at the end, but we still don't know what went on outside the Black Lodge. Obviously there is good reason to be concerned about the fact that a very likable and trustworthy man has been possessed by an evil entity bent on committing acts of violent murder. The big question is therefore whether there is any way Sheriff Truman could have found out what was going on and rescued Cooper from the lodge. Unfortunately if 25 years have passed, that means BOB could have done a lot of damage undetected. I just hope Cooper finds his way out.

I should clarify that this is all pure speculation. I have virtually nothing to go on as to how this revival will play out. I'm not even sure if this project is simply a one-off season meant to provide closure to his beloved series or if Lynch is actually trying to go all out and get it moving again (sort of like what happened with Doctor Who, only this time involving the original creators). Either way, we should be in for an exciting experience as we finally get to revisit his beloved fictional town.

Back to School Blogathon: David Lynch Edition

I've done two interesting classes for Wendell Ottley's Back to School Blogathon but now, because I'm completely insane, I've decided to do a special edition. I'm going to be breaking the rules a bit for this one, since I'm not going to be sticking strictly to people who are students or staff in films that prominently featured schools. I've also tried to have each archetype be played by a character from a different film of his, which was tricky. Nonetheless, I think this will be an enjoyable little activity so let's begin.

Faculty

Duke Leto Atreides (Dune, 1984)- Headmaster

This is the kind of man you want overseeing things. He has plenty of money, power, and influence, but he also knows how to handle it all responsibly and puts the good of his people at the forefront. He will certainly know how to distribute the school's funding, and how to organize everything to create the best learning experience for his students. Unfortunately, he might not be prepared to deal with this group of students just yet.

Frederick Treves (The Elephant Man, 1980)- Professor

Treves is very much the sort of gentleman with the perfect balance of qualities for his job. He is calm, professional, and always tries to think through things rationally. However he is not above showing compassion when he needs to and, being a doctor, he is more than capable of caring for his students and helping them with their personal problems. I will, however, stick purely to Lynch's filmography, and will not be touching on his television work.

Students

Pete Dayton (Lost Highway, 1997)- Popular Guy

Pete's a guy that everybody loves. He is cool, he is a good mechanic, and he seems to be popular with the girls. Unfortunately, underneath all that Pete has a few problems of his own, namely his connections to shady mobsters. Long story short, if you need someone to look at your car he's your guy, but as appealing as he is it's best to avoid getting mixed up in his personal life.

Dale Cooper (Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, 1992)- Star Student

Cooper's a bit of an eccentric, but he is probably the smartest in the class in just how easily he picks up strange concepts. He's usually a few steps ahead of everyone else and they have no idea what he's doing, but whatever it is, it is working. In addition to that, he's also just a really great guy to be around most of the time.

Frank Booth (Blue Velvet, 1986)- Class Bully

How is this guy a bully? It would be much more difficult to explain in what way he isn't a bully. He beats people up, forces them to have sex with him, shouts at everyone, likes to taunt people, and has a tendency to use lots and lots of swear words. If you thought that one kid on the playground who liked to scare you into handing over your lunch money was bad you don't know the meaning of suffering. 

Sailor Ripley (Wild At Heart, 1990)- Class Clown

Well, how could this guy be anything else with his crazy over-the-top personality. True, he is a bit of a womanizer, but he is a guy who has a tendency to get into all kinds of strange situations and likes to bring his friends along for the ride. If there's anyone whose mere presence automatically guarantees weird things to happen (besides David Lynch), it's this guy.

Nicki Grace (Inland Empire, 2005)- Invisible Girl

Nicki has a lot going on with herself. She is a capable actress and has shown that talent but there is a limit to how demanding a role she can take, even if she gives it her all anyway. She doesn't seem to get much of the recognition she deserves for her hard work and talent, but perhaps a good director and a school play could turn things around for her.

Betty Elms/Diane Selwin (Mulholland Drive, 2002)- Troubled Youth

Which one is she really? Nobody seems to be entirely certain, but the one thing that is certain is that Betty/Diane isn't all there in the head. She can jump from being a perky young actress with a lot of talent one moment to a psychological wreck in the next. Nobody is quite sure what caused her to be like this, but all she really wants is to find a woman that loves her for who she is.

What Is My Problem, Man?

This is the second time it's happened now, first what happened with Fellini last year and now this. Why is it that I am such a big fan of David Lynch and yet it seems every time I watch something that obviously inspired him I can't stand it. This time my Cinema Studies class got kicked off with the movie Sunset Boulevard, a film which I understood to be a favorite of Lynch's. I also knew Billy Wilder was a good director, considering how much I enjoyed Some Like it Hot.

I wanted to like this movie, but in the end it ultimately proved to be really hard to sit through and I spent most of it just waiting for the darn thing to end. I probably would have gotten completely lost if I hadn't had the foresight to look at Wikipedia's summary of what happens. There was also a major plot hole that bothered me: it is made clear that Joe is dead when the movie begins (as opposed to simply being wounded), so how exactly is he narrating the story? The only thing that really seemed to make the film worthwhile was to spot the little things that Lynch managed to pick up in his much better movies.

In particular, it quickly became clear that Sunset Boulevard had to be a major inspiration behind David Lynch's masterpiece Mulholland Drive, something that becomes clear right from the opening credits. The two of them are structured very similarly, right down to the idea of using a street sign in place of a title card. They even both have similar titles, with the two films being named after actual roads found in Hollywood.

There are other little parallels as well. I personally could not help noticing that both films had a major female character named Betty, and she was even involved in a tricky love affair. On this front, Lynch was able to be a bit more daring due to the timing of Mulholland Drive. These relationships involved betrayal and deception (although Lynch's betty was referred to as "Diane" during the scenes showing that relationship). Sunset Boulevard's is the more straight forward of the two, where the romance between Betty and Joe is complicated by her engagement and his... questionable relationship to Norma Desmond.

David Lynch was able to be a bit more daring with Mulholland Drive, touching on a more controversial issue by making Betty a lesbian. In her case, as we see at the very end, Betty/Diane had been in a relationship with Rita/Camilla Rhodes, and was crushed when she was invited to a party and watched her friend kiss another woman while a man announced his engagement to her (with hints that Camilla had been using sex as a way to move up the ranks). Betty/Diane goes on to hire a hitman to kill Rita/Camilla. Fittingly enough, Sunset Boulevard also ends with a frustrated and unstable Norma shooting Joe dead.

Hollywood and, by extension, the filmmaking scene are also both major elements for both. Mulholland Drive was arguably Lynch's first movie to really explore the world of movie-making (a theme he would later revisit in Inland Empire), but even though it is not the central focus, the whole thing provides a strong background to the main action. One of the main characters is an aspiring actress trying to make her first big break into the business, while by interesting contrast, Sunset Boulevard's Norma Desmond is a washed-up actress trying to get back into the business. In both films there is also a sub-plot that comes from a supporting character trying to make a film with some difficulty (Betty in Sunset Boulevard and Adam in Mulholland Drive).

I can't quite figure out why this is happening to me. First Fellini and now a respected Hollywood Classic from a director I know is talented. Why is it that whenever I see something that clearly inspired Lynch I can't seem to stand it and yet I still enjoy his movies. Mulholland Drive obviously draws from Sunset Boulevard on so many levels, so why is it I still enjoy the former but not the latter?

The parallels I have traced are probably just the tip of the iceberg, so what is it that makes him work so much better than the guy who inspired him? Because I am such a big fan of Lynch, and I know Sunset Boulevard was a favorite of his, I really wanted to like it, but I couldn't. What is my problem, man? What's wrong with me?

David Lynch on Sunset Boulevard, with a cow.

The Role Of Laura Dern in David Lynch's Filmography

Laura Dern is a talented and versatile actress, there's no doubting that. From October Sky to The Fault in Our Stars, she has played a wide range of effective roles. For a more in-depth look at her filmography in general you can check Alex Withrow's discussion at And So it Begins. What interests me is to look at a very specific aspect of her work. Laura Dern may be a versatile actress, but to see that you really don't need to go through her entire career.

All you really need to do is look at her collaborations with one particular director, and that is David Lynch. He was the one that really got her career going in the 1986 thriller Blue Velvet when she was only 19, and since then she's done two other collaborations with a few hints at the possibility of a fourth thanks to an interview she did for The Fault in Our Stars. Across those three movies she has never played the same character twice.

Blue Velvet saw Dern play a very sweet and innocent young girl. She is the shy girl next door, who remains friendly and optimistic, which fits nicely into the whole theme of the movie seeing as her image of the "ideal" girlfriend provides a clear contrast to the film's other female lead: Isabella Rosselini as the emotionally disturbed neighbor caught up in the activities of one Frank Booth. As the story goes on Laura Dern becomes increasingly entangled in the web of mystery lurking beneath her hometown, and her innocence is brought into question.

Laura Dern is charming enough as Sandy, but then we get to Lynch's later film Wild At Heart, and guess who else is back? Laura Dern is now, if anything, exactly the opposite of her role in Blue Velvet. Whereas the first collaboration between Lynch and Dern featured her as a very innocent, quiet, and innocent young woman. In Wild At Heart, Dern is every bit as much in love with Sailor Ripley as Sandy was with Jeffrey Beaumont, but this time around her character is a bit dirtier. 

Lula Fortune becomes much more outspoken in this film, being driven and at times blinded by her love. This is the sort of character who gets so caught up in her relationship that she will stop at nothing to be with her one true love, even if it means hitting the road with an army of weird psychos in hot pursuit.

Finally, we move into their third (and so far, final) collaboration: Inland Empire. The whole movie is a bit weird and with its extremely subjective nature it would be hard to make a solid profile of anybody, but Laura Dern captures her role well. This time around there is no obvious romantic sub-plot, and her role becomes a much more cynical one. Whereas her good nature ultimately won out in Blue Velvet and she remained devoted to Sailor Ripley in Wild At Heart, the outcome in the end isn't as clear or optimistic (although it does depend on how you interpret the ending).

Instead she plays a aspiring actress Nikki Grace. This is a character who finds herself taking on an extremely demanding role and gradually breaks down over the course of the film due to the resulting stress. Over time she begins to confuse the identities of herself and her character, failing to distinguish when she is acting and when she is not (as demonstrated in several well-executed scenes that appear to be real only to be revealed as scenes from the movie). In the end she does somewhat manage to overcome her personal problems and finish the movie, but the damage is still done.

So we have three very different performances across three different films. There do seem to be patterns that emerge with each, however. In every case, Dern seems to be cast as an idealist whose confidence is brought into question. Blue Velvet questions her good nature as she becomes entangled in a web of messed-up craziness courtesy of Frank Booth, Wild At Heart tests just how far Lula will go for love, and Inland Empire sees a confident actress gradually starting to lose herself.

If indeed Lynch is planning something new, and he really does plan to cast Laura Dern, it does make me curious what role he'll have in store for her in what would be their fourth collaboration. The one thing that seems likely is that her character would be a drastic departure from everything she has done with Lynch in the past.

Why is Frank Booth Such a Great Character?

In my popular article Why Do People Like James Bond?, I discussed how James Bond is not the awesome superspy everyone makes him out to be but a sexist pervert who can't get within ten feet of a woman without thinking about having sex with her. Hang on, this is reminding me of someone else. A sexist pervert obsessed with sex and violence? Yes, I am going there.

Let's look at a similar character, although this time one whose perverted characteristics are fully played for all their disturbing qualities rather than attempting to pass off sexual assault and harassment as charming, in the form of Frank Booth, as played by the late Dennis Hopper in David Lynch's 1986 masterpiece Blue Velvet, known for such classic lines such as "DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!" or "HEINEKEN!? @#$)!$ THAT &%!$#! PABST BLUE RIBBON!"

For those of you not familiar with this character, he's sort of like a grown-up version of Alex DeLarge from A Clockwork Orange, right down to having a gang of "droogs" (he doesn't use that word, but they are a group of psycho perverts who follow him around). He is a bit nastier though, as while Alex simply liked to run around raping women and beating up men, Frank enjoys committing murder and forcing a woman into becoming his personal sex slave by kidnapping her child and mutilating her husband. He is also a bit more... open minded in his sexual activities to the point where he openly declares "I'LL #$%& ANYTHING THAT MOVES!"

Also, a discussion of this character would not be complete without bringing up his habit of inhaling some sort of gas out of a tank. In the original script this was supposed to be helium, but Hopper himself had just overcome a drug addiction, and suggested a separate gas (though he later regretted it, thinking that Frank might be more intimidating if his voice became high-pitched). It's not identified in the movie itself, but whatever it is it seems to dull his senses and get him sexually aroused.

I once made a poll on IMDB in which I asked the question of who was the creepiest character in David Lynch's body of work, and I was surprised to see that Frank Booth was the most popular choice (followed closely by BOB from Twin Peaks in second with the Mystery Man from Lost Highway and Bobby Peru from Wild at Heart competing for third). I would have said that Frank was one of Lynch's less terrifying characters, but evidently a lot of people disagree with me.

So what makes Frank such an interesting character? Well, what makes a character like the Mystery Man in Lost Highway so frightening is that we know nothing about him. He seems to be otherworldly, perhaps even inhuman, but we never find out for sure just where he comes from, who he is, or what his connection is to Fred Madision and Pete Dayton. We can only speculate on just what the deal is with this character, but whoever he is, he seems to have control over everything.

With Frank, it's sort of the opposite. He is a human being firmly grounded in reality. He isn't perfect, but what makes him frightening is that someone like him could theoretically exist. Like the Mystery Man, we never get a full explanation for who Frank is, where he comes from, or how he became the way he is, just that he is a messed-up psycho. Also to add to the terrifying aspects of his character is the environment in which he lives.

At first glance the town of Lumberton seems very pleasant, but much like the titular setting of Twin Peaks or Hollywood in Mulholland Dr., there are darker components. We see Jeffrey living in what seems to be a decent enough neighborhood where everyone knows each other and the people generally seem nice. The fact that Frank Booth is able to abuse a young woman and remain unnoticed as long as he has (its implied he has been up to this for some time) is pretty disturbing, not to mention how close all this was to Jeffrey's own house.

We can also bring up the infantile aspects of his character. There is something rather disturbing about seeing a middle-aged man acting very immaturely while sexually abusing a woman, especially when addressing her as "Mommy" as though there are some incestual implications to his actions.

Seeing a man cursing persistently (to the point where he is the only character to swear in the whole movie, with the exception of a single line from Dean Stockwell) combined with the constant inhaling of whatever that gas is and his tendency to act very immaturely while having sex all combine together to create a very disturbing image.

Frank Booth may well be one of Lynch's most disturbing creations if only because of just how different he is from sort of "antagonists" we would usually get in Lynch's films. With many of Lynch's films we get mysterious characters such as the Lady in the Radiator and the Man in the Planet from Eraserhead, and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway who seem to have some otherworldly vibe and potentially control everything. Frank Booth is simply a psycho, not a whole lot else.

We never learn what made him this way, but his character is firmly grounded in reality, and the sort of man who in theory could exist. Who's to say that somewhere in your hometown there isn't a psycho like this lurking about, someone who does all kinds of terrible things and goes entirely unnoticed?

Otherworldly Curtains in the Films of David Lynch

David Lynch has a lot of weird patterns in his films. There are images that tend to pop up a lot, but this is one I find especially curious. If you have seen Lynch's movies, one pattern that quickly becomes clear is his love to create a surreal dream-like experience, and there are particular moments that tend to stand out where Lynch makes a particularly strange choice. In many of his dream-like sequences, Lynch has a tendency to use curtains (particularly red) to create a more otherworldly or dream-like atmosphere. This occurs throughout most of his films along with some of his television work.

The earliest case I have found of Lynch using curtains to this effect would be in Eraserhead. More specifically, the dream sequence in which Henry Spencer encounters the Lady in the Radiator (who I will not include a picture of as her image may traumatize some viewers) in a strange theatrical setting. She then disappears, and he finds himself standing at a podium as though he is being put on trial. He is abruptly decapitated, the baby's head appearing on his body while his head is left in a pool of blood before sinking into it.

If you notice here, the background consists entirely of curtains, although we can't actually tell what color they are. This may have been a practical move as Lynch had almost no budget for Eraserhead, but it seems to work to the effect of creating a dream-like atmosphere nonetheless. This could be the film's way of calling attention to itself as a constructed medium (after all, if any of Lynch's movies can be called Art Films, it's either this or Inland Empire).

The curtains appear again, though greatly downplayed, in The Elephant Man. They don't create a dream-like atmosphere in the same way as Eraserhead, but they do serve to add a sense of mystery to the character of John Merrick. In Merrick's first scene, he is kept behind a curtain in a dark cellar. His cruel manager, Mr. Bytes delivers a speech and pulls the curtain open, allowing our first glimpse of the famed "Elephant Man". In this case, the small space Merrick inhabits looks more like a cave, and we can barely see him.

Later on, Merrick is seen standing behind a curtain yet again when Treves first presents him to the "society". Merrick is only seen in silhouette, while Treves provides a more scientific explanation for his condition (as opposed to the dramatic version Bytes could have just made up). Still, as with the previous encounter, we fail to get a good look at Merrick, keeping the mystery of his character secret. In this case, the curtain could be seen as representing the prejudices of the Victorian society, serving as a literal wall which keeps us seeing the kind and intelligent man underneath those deformities.

The more familiar red curtains first make their appearance in Blue Velvet. Now I've often noted that Blue Velvet is one of Lynch's more down-to-Earth movies, having an easily comprehensible (if at times strange) narrative. Still, the curtain is a very distinct background while Dorothy Vallens is performing at the night club. We see her on stage donning this fairly elegant dress and seeing a "classy" song, but once again it's really all a charade. Jeffrey Beaumont glimpses first hand what she is going really going through, being forced into submitting to the desires of the sex-crazed psycho Frank Booth.

This brings us arguably Lynch's most iconic use of curtains for this purpose: Twin Peaks along with the movie Fire Walk With Me. The best example of how they are used here of course would be the Black Lodge, which consists of a series of very similar rooms divided only by red curtains.  The curtains here, as with the world of Eraserhead, provide a very otherworldly vibe that makes it clear they are in a place separate from the rest of Twin Peaks. This, along with the strange way in which people talk and the apparent warping of reality all help to make the appearance of the Black Lodge seem incredibly surreal.

The curtains also continue to show up in Mulholland Dr. at several points in the film. It's harder to see because of the lighting, but there's a scene where a mobster-like studio executive is seen talking to a "Mr. Roque" (played, fittingly enough, by Michael J. Anderson, the "Man From Another Place" who was frequently seen at the Black Lodge). At this point, it is clear that there are other forces controlling the production of Adam Kesher's film, and if you look closely, you can see the background is a curtain, possibly red. This does provide the small hint that Mr. Roque may not be of this world or that there may be something else to his character that we can't see.

Later on, the idea of the curtain and the "deception" comes out more obviously at Club Silencio. Like Eraserhead and Blue Velvet, the curtain backdrop is used specifically on a stage, but still has that strange otherworldly vibe. At the club we meet this strange man, who talks about illusions, demonstrating how he can use recordings of music to create the illusion of conducting a non-existent orchestra. We see a man coming out apparently playing a trumpet only for the music to keep playing as he moves it away from his mouth, followed by a woman, Rebecca Del Rio who seems to sing a song which also keeps playing after she passes out. This illustrates the fact that what the characters have experienced is a very idealized version of Hollywood, and forces them to confront the much darker reality.

The curtain is very clearly a prominent part of Lynch's film-making style. There may have even been other instances which I failed to notice. What interests me is how simply hanging a curtain can be used to create such a strange and otherworldly dream-like tone in Lynch's films. Just what is it about the curtains that makes them work so well?

Movies About Making Movies

It is easy to forget how much can go into the process of making a movie. Typically, the cast and crew are fairly large, you have to assemble sets, keep people organized, acquire costumes, deal with any problems experienced by the cast or crew, and figure out how to solve that one frustrating obstacle that you never saw coming.

I say this from experience, just making a movie with just five actors and myself doing the camerawork in highschool was difficult enough, with the cast constantly failing to show up no matter how clearly I told them when we were working, to problems with the costumes, the one guy who brought in all this great stuff but couldn't keep it as school and kept forgetting to bring it in when I actually needed it, the guy who caused so much trouble on set he was "fired" and later actively tried to sabotage the production to the point where it took the presence of the Vice Principal to keep him off the set.

Long story short, a five-minute short film that was supposed to be shot in a week ended up taking something closer to two or three months. This was in high school, with a budget of $0.00, a very small cast, and no other crew besides myself. Now imagine having to manage a dozen crew members with different jobs, plus the actors who all have their personal lives as well combined with any number of problems that occur on set that cause shooting a crucial scene to get delayed. Naturally, when one of my film studies classes started with Living in Oblivion, I didn't have too much trouble sympathizing with Steve Buscemi's role of the hapless director.

Indeed, there is something interesting to be found in this area. Movies are great to watch, but it is interesting once in a while to see a well-executed movie that draws attention to the process of... well... making a movie which in itself can be a good set-up for comedy or drama. Living in Oblivion is probably one of the most straight forward examples. I have also discussed the more surreal approaches explored with David Lynch's Inland Empire and Federico Fellini's 8½ (dang it, why did Fellini give his movies titles that were really annoying to type?). Lynch's thriller Mulholland Dr. does not actually center around the production of a specific movie, but it does use the Hollywood filmmaking scene as a backdrop and certainly has plenty of scenes taking place on film sets.

It is curious to see how many different films approach this topic. Living in Oblivion deals with the subject of filmmaking head-on with a decent balance of comedy and drama. Compare that to a more obviously comedic approach, such as an underrated masterpiece by Mel Brooks. Before there was Epic Movie, Scary Movie, and Disaster Movie, there was the great cinematic genius that was... Silent Movie.

In Silent Movie, Mel Brooks takes on a more over-the-top slapstick adventure presented entirely as a silent movie (with only one word of spoken dialogue from a very unlikely source). In this film, Brooks himself takes on the role of a washed-up director who tries to save "Big Picture Studios" from being bought out by the evil conglomerate known as "Engulf and Devour" with his latest project... a silent movie.

Brooks' film centers entirely around the production of this movie (which is made all the more hilarious by the fact that we find out absolutely nothing about the film itself beyond the fact that its a silent movie and apparently a really good one), but instead opts to focus on a slightly different aspect from many such films. Living in Oblivion, Inland Empire, and 8½ all deal with movies during their production phase (the phase in which you actually get out the cameras and start shooting it). Silent Movie opts for something slightly different by focusing more on pre-production (basically the phase in which you have to get everything ready before you can start shooting).

In particular, we do get a really bizarre look at two particular aspects of pre-production: money and casting. The "Studio Chief" played by Sid Ceasar is initially skeptical of a silent movie saving his studio, claiming that "slapstick is DEAD!" (though he is proven wrong within seconds of saying that when he falls backward in his chair, slides through his desk, and crashes into the wall for no apparent reason). As funny as it is, one of the first steps to making a movie is simply getting money by convincing an executive you've got something that will sell, which Mel Brooks eventually does by offering to try and get the biggest names in Hollywood to sign on. Much of the rest of the movie centers around the comedic antics Brooks and his partners inevitably get up to when they try to approach various movie stars.

Want a surefire way to get an Oscar-winning actress to star in your movie? Dress up in suits of armor and then approach her in a public cafeteria. What could possibly go wrong?

Meanwhile, Mulholland Dr. focuses less on the production of a specific movie and more on the idea of breaking into the business. We see this in the character of Betty, an aspiring and extremely idealistic actress trying to make her big break. We even get some scenes of her auditioning, and in the final act, we see her alternate persona  of "Diane" (I've discussed the relationship between both in a previous article) recounting how she met Camilla because they were both auditioning for a part. The problem of course, is that Camilla may have been using some questionable methods of getting to the top (namely having sex with the director), while Diane is trying to do so more honestly and is having much more trouble, something I realized after corresponding with some fellow fans of the movie on the IMDB boards with regards to my previous discussion of its meaning.

That said, even the ones that deal with production can go in very different directions. As I've discussed previously, Inland Empire and 8½ both depict in a surreal manner the psychological experiences of an individual's struggle to make a film, but one deals with a director taking on what is implied to be an extremely ambitious project, and the other centers on the stress experienced by an actress trying to cope with a demanding role. 

In addition to all that, we can occasionally get movies that focus on post-production (the final phase of making a movie, where the footage recorded in the production phase is edited), a good example being Singin' in the Rain. Technically this movie touches on both production and post-production, seeing as it deals with the struggles faced by studios during the transition from the end of the silent era into the first "talking pictures". However, a lot of the movie centers around the editing phase as well, when the studio decides to save their latest disaster by re-editing it into a musical, which is interesting given the movie itself is played as a musical. 

There are many different approaches one can take when emphasizing the filmmaking process. In this article alone I have discussed only one film that addresses the issue straight on, with three others that provide a more surreal approach, one that provides a comedic slapstick take on Hollywood, and another structured as a musical comedy. There are tons of others that all deal with this idea in their own unique way.

The Meaning of Mulholland Dr. ...Sort Of

David Lynch's films have a reputation for their subjective nature and their puzzling narratives. One of Lynch's most famous movies, Mulholland Dr., is a great example. This was the first film of his I ever saw, and I went in expecting a straight forward film noir. Boy, was I mistaken, yet within a week or so I felt hungry for more, and picked up a copy of Blue Velvet, and from there every other Lynch movie I could obtain (I now own DVD copies of all of his feature films outside of Eraserhead).

Mulholland Dr. can be described as a surreal deconstruction of Hollywood. It does have a bit of a weird history, supposedly originating as a concept for a spin-off to Twin Peaks, a vision which was never realized due to the show's abrupt cancellation. Later on, Lynch tried to rework it into an independent series, and when he couldn't get the pilot picked up Lynch reworked it further into a standalone movie. The story plays out in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a classical film noir, but opts for a much more ambiguous and subjective tone, with a very enigmatic resolution.

Many have tried to explain the mystery behind this strange film's events. The most common explanation I have heard is that most of the story is a dream experienced by one of the main characters and the final act is her waking up to the reality they have tried to escape (similar to how I explained Lost Highway). I have a slightly different theory of my own. It's far from perfect, and may even be a bit radical, but I think it is an interesting idea to explore.

So my theory would suggest the main narrative starts with the events we see in the resolution. Diane Selwyn is in a relationship with fellow actress Camilla Rhodes, but there are implications that the latter may be in a relationship with the director. Later on, Diane has a "surprise" meeting with Camilla in the middle of the woods and they go to a party through an isolated path. The two of them are alone, and Camilla acts very affectionately toward Diane, the two of them holding hands as they walk. Diane is extremely happy, if a little nervous.

However, when they arrive, things don't turn out so great. Diane tries to be polite, but from the moment they confront Adam she seems left out. As they go inside, Diane is quickly separated from Camilla, who seems more interested in spending time around Adam. Diane tries to be polite about it but then she sees Camilla kissing another woman, and as if this wasn't painful enough for her she then hears Adam announce his engagement to Camilla.

As a result, Diane is understandably hurt. The betrayal of her lover has left her upset and not thinking straight, and in a fit of anger she decides to hire a hitman named Joe to kill her. Joe himself even warns Diane of what she is about to do, pointing out that as soon as she hands over the money "it's a done deal". Diane is certain this is what she wants, but it is clear she is not in her right mind. Shortly after, she starts to have second thoughts and is haunted by the inescapable guilt of her actions. The only thing she can do is reinvent herself, effectively killing herself and becoming an entirely new person. Whether she simply creates a new identity or escapes into delusion as I have speculated happens to Fred Madison in Lost Highway,  I can't say for sure, but the person that was once Diane is gone.

This brings us to the opening scene of the film, wherein the attempted hit is carried out. By chance, a group of drunk drivers crash into Camilla's car, killing her would-be assassins. Camilla herself survives, but at the cost of her memory. Outside of an understanding of English and vague recollections of something happening on Mulholland Dr., she has no memory of her past self. Meanwhile Diane, now under the name of Betty, had fled from Los Angeles but has since decided to return, acting under the guise of an upcoming actress.

Camilla, in her disoriented and confused state, finds herself wandering into an apartment complex where Betty just happens to be staying. She sneaks into Betty's apartment and adopts the name of Rita. When the two women meet again, Betty recognizes Camilla, or at the very least, sees something familiar about her. In essence, Betty, perhaps still haunted by her guilt (despite suppressing it under a cheerful attitude), sees an opportunity to make amends. 

The two women become exceptionally close, just as they were before everything went wrong, and they even begin to rekindle their old romance. However, Rita still has the problem of not knowing who she is. Diane, wanting to redeem herself, tries to slowly ease Rita into understanding the truth of Camilla piece by piece (if only on a subconscious level). Finally, after confessing their love, the two women decide to go somewhere, and end up at the mysterious Club Silencio, where a strange man demonstrates how recorded audio can be used to create illusions of things happening.

This finally inspires Rita to confront the truth, having been prepared for it by Betty. Rita opens the mysterious blue box, and finally learns who she really was. She learns about how much she hurt Betty and what the latter had done to her.

In the final moments of the movie, we see footage of both women together against the backdrop of Los Angeles, reunited at last. With both having confronted the past and realizing what they had done to each other, Betty and Rita--or if you rather Diane and Camilla, have forgiven each other and subsequently have another chance at their relationship.

This is far from a perfect interpretation of the movie. In fact it may well be full of problems I haven't considered. For the purposes of this theory I have focused exclusively on Betty and Rita, and it may be harder to tie in other parts of the movie. Still, I think it is an interesting out-of-the-box approach to look at Mulholland Dr. at least on some level as a story of redemption.