Continuing my Twin Peaks-inspired Lynch kick, I watched Lost Highway last night.
This is a Lynch I’m a much more comfortable with. The obscure cyclical story. Messages to yourself from the future. Dopplegangers. Body jumping. Choppy, nonsensical narratives. Creepy fellows. And, also, whores who get slaughtered. Ho-hum (I’m thinking that one of the reasons I liked Mulholland Drive is that it’s a Lynch movie that actually passed the Bechdel test. Thus far, I have not found any others that do. Maybe Inland Empire? I’m thinking Dern talks to the gypsy about something other than a guy. Maybe). Though at least this one wasn’t a damsel in distress.
I think what I like about these whacked-out jump narrative dream-logic movies is that they force my brain to try and make connections between things that just aren’t connected. Our web designer tells me this movie was apparently Lynch’s way of sorting out the whole OJ trial fiasco, looking into how a guy can live with himself after committing an atrocious murder.
I admit I was struck dumb at that event as the catalyst for this movie. The only connection I see is… guy kills his wife and is set free… um, but he’s set free because he literally transforms into somebody else. And then goes and has an affair with his supposedly dead wife, who is now somebody else’s wife, only not really.
It’s a Lynch movie, all right?
In any case: dream logic. It’s why I like these. It’s a crazy brain exercise, which is likely good for my plotting muscles.
This one is a typical Lynchian brain-exercise.