+ Interview with Justin Theroux star of Mulholland Drive
David Lynch's "Hollyweird"
David Lynch's newest film, Mulholland Drive, is
named after a twisting stretch of road that snakes
through the hills separating Hollywood and the Valley.
On the one side: the mundane landscape of Encino. On
the other: the dilapidated apartments and strip malls
that make up the version of the American dream seen in
Mulholland Drive. This version emerges
specifically in the age-old tale of the small town
girl who seeks fame but finds corruption in the
Hollywood studios.
Mulholland Drive opens by following the
seemingly wholesome Betty (Naomi Watts), a Canadian
actress who yearns for Hollywood fame, and Rita (Laura
Elena Harring), a beautiful amnesiac. Midway through,
it transforms into a noir-ish thriller of sexual
intrigue and murder. Or perhaps the word "transform"
is inadequate here: the film turns back on itself,
much like the road for which it's named, twisting
around to begin again, changing characters' roles and
overlapping their circumstances.
As always, Lynch plays with audience expectations. One
early scene features two male characters who, if
Mulholland Drive followed movie conventions,
could be key figures. Yet the two are never seen
again; instead, it is their scene's setting -- a
Denny's-style restaurant called "Winkie's" -- that
later becomes central to the plot. Such moments reveal
Lynch's blatant disregard for the need to pull the
various storylines together, the film feels like an
enigmatic message from a highly creative unconscious.
Like many of his other works, it has a dream logic,
whereby characters morph, metaphors are made literal,
and a stylistic fluidity juxtaposes with a disjointed
narrative structure.
The incongruous plot and California setting of
Mulholland Drive echo the infamously strange
Lost Highway, but the new film begins with a
fairly conventional mystery plot. When Mulholland
Drive veers into its second half, the difference
from this beginning is particularly jarring. This
could be in part because Lynch originally
conceptualized the film as a television series. When
ABC rejected the pilot (most of which appears in the
first half of the movie), French backers gave Lynch
the funds to shoot enough additional footage for a
full-length feature.
Betty and Rita anchor the film, as the main points of
identification for the audience. Like the film's
viewers, they are caught in an intrigue whose meaning
they do not comprehend. And yet, although
Mulholland Drive focuses on them, Betty and
Rita remain mysterious and fairly one-dimensional
characters. "Woman," the film seems to scream at every
plot twist, is a dangerously incomprehensible
creature.
The two first meet when Betty arrives in sunny LA. At
her aunt's apartment, where she is set to stay while
looking for work, Betty finds Rita showering in the
bathroom; the catch is that Rita doesn't know who she
is, having been in a car accident the night before.
Just before their encounter, the camera glides past an
illuminated reproduction of Vermeer's "Girl with a
Pearl Earring." Rita, who left her own pearl earring
behind at the accident scene, is like the girl in
Vermeer's portrait, often staring into space with an
unexplained insistence that seduces both Betty and the
viewer.
At first, the women appear as two classic Hollywood
archetypes: Betty is the plucky blonde, Rita is the
brunette femme fatale. By referencing these
well-known types in his take on a noir plot,
Lynch imbues the film with a masculine gaze typical of
the era he invokes. Still, the film complicates the
familiar, in the fact that the women share a romance.
Love scenes between Betty and Rita are filmed like
pornography, graphic and without convincing emotion.
When Betty tells Rita she loves her, the words are
delivered with a combined emptiness and urgency that
foreshadows how their relationship will play out in
the second half of the film.
The differences between them fade as the film
progresses. Eventually, Rita disguises herself under a
platinum wig that transforms her into Betty's
oversexed doppelganger. At this point, in the second
half's through-the-looking-glass variation on the
first, Lynch resorts to cliched connections among
narcissism, homosexuality, and crime, and by the end
of the film, both women must pay for their sexual
indiscretions.
The seductive enigmas surrounding Betty and Rita are
contrasted with a subplot rife with Lynch's typically
black humor. Adam (Justin Theroux) is a successful
young director; through him, Lynch represents two
aspects of the role of director or storyteller. In the
first half of the film, Adam appears to be a hack at
the mercy of the film financiers (who force him to
recast the female lead in his latest project), and has
various comic run-ins with eccentric goons and his
wife's new lover, a white trashy pool guy named Gene
(Billy Ray Cyrus). These scenes contrast with Adam's
appearance in the second half, as a powerful
artiste in control of his film and commanding
the sexual attention of his female lead. In the two
parts of the film, Lynch alternately comments on the
impotence and the power of a filmmaker at different
levels of the Hollywood pecking order.
Lynch's focus on Hollywood follows his usual technique
of re-framing familiar aspects of American life so
that they look sinister. After examining the squalid
underbelly of small town U.S.A. in Blue Velvet
and Twin Peaks, Lynch here turns his
surrealistic imagination to LA's Spanish-style
apartments, lush mansions, and imperious movie
studios. Filtered through Lynch's vision, even the
Hollywood sign is rendered painfully bright and alien.
The mundane Winkie's restaurant becomes nightmarish
when viewed through skewed camera angles. Again and
again, the viewer is made to feel like an outsider,
listening in on a mysterious conversation, underlined
in Lynch's signature clipped dialogue.
Mulholland Drive leads the viewer through a narrative that continually frustrates expectations in creative, comic, and terrifying ways. While Lynch's
pranks sometimes come off as pretentious,
nevertheless, Mulholland Drive is a lush film
showing an artist's imagination on the loose, and is
especially satisfying when compared to the bland fluff
currently playing in most theaters. As critics have
observed before, viewers tend to leave Lynch's movies
feeling that the familiar world has been altered.
Mulholland Drive is no different. Under Lynch's
vision, the City of Angels becomes a grotesque
dreamscape, beautiful and bizarre, distressing and
provocative.