The notorious David Lynch has always held a rather slippery grip on narrative construction and a rather absent grasp on convention. At last we left him, his surreal dreamscape was the city of L.A. and a pair of lesbian lovers who may or may not have broken up because of a brash film director, and that's just the peripheral story. Mulholland Drive was Lynch at his very best, using Los Angeles as a canvas to purge all his hallucinatory digressions and woozy dreams into a noir-tinged love story. Lynch now returns to L.A. once again for Inland Empire, a 180-minute, digitally-shot nightmare that culls together the absolute worst attributes of Lynch and his personal style.
Continue reading: Inland Empire Review
We are not in Lynch's world, and, despite several pieces of stylistic evidence to the contrary, there is no way we're going to enter Lynch's world in The Straight Story.
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Christopher Null, not overly impressed
Continue reading: Mulholland Drive Review