Last night my husband and I watched David Lynch's Lost Highway. I hadn't seen the film in nearly a decade, and I'm happy to report that it's held up pretty well considering that it's not thought of as one of Lynch's best films. It's a bit of a mess, but it's nevertheless a thought-provoking and creeptastic mess. Like the best of Lynch's work, Lost Highway leaves you pondering what you watched and allows you to try your damnedest to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Is it about split personalities? Or is it about memory versus reality? Or is it simply about Patricia Arquette's boobies? Perhaps all three. Slate posted a good write-up of the film last week in honor of the recent DVD release that offers a bit of insight into the movie. I direct you to this critique because I do not wish to delve into the movie, but instead wish to relate my experience of seeing it in the theatre on opening night back in 1997.
My initial Lost Highway screening was one of the most memorable movie-going experiences of my life. I was living in a college dorm in Richmond when I discovered that the new David Lynch film would be starting at movie theatres in Washington, D.C. that day. Always the obsessive, I managed to wrangle up a few of my best girlfriends to head up to the capitol city for a movie adventure. Three brave girls, Leah, Lynn and Leslie (never noticed those three L's) were up for it, so we started plotting our journey. One of the girl's roommates overheard that we were planning to drive up to D.C. and she warned us that we might want to consult a map. In these dark days of the late 90's, cell phones were a luxury for the wealthy and mapquest was a few more years coming. So my girls and I headed out towards the highway in my yellow '73 Volkswagen Superbeetle to go get a David Lynch fix.
We planned to see a 10pm show at some random Odeon theatre. By 9:30pm we had actually managed to find the city, but little else. We drove around the city of our founding fathers, getting more and more lost as time went on. We stopped to ask directions at least four or more times, getting more turned around and confused with each new set of directions (it didn't help that a lot of these driving directions came from men at gas stations with not much sense and even less teeth). We drove down numerous little side streets and hit a number of one-way streets going the wrong way. We were invited to a few "parties" by big guys drinking 40's as we puttered around through sketchy neighborhoods in search of our movie theatre. We were scared, tired and very confused.
Somehow, after two and a half hours of stopping and starting and turning around and around, we found the glorious theatre (it turned out to be somewhere in Dupont Circle). It was a dive with little screens, but we could have kissed the stained burgundy carpets. We made it just in time for the midnight show.
The film was insane, and it seemed to perfectly reflect our state of mind that evening. We all walked out feeling delirious and enlightened. Sex and murder aside, it was as though David Lynch had perfectly captured our mood that night. We all walked out thinking it was a work of genius.
Then we promptly got lost again. Took us about another half an hour to find the interstate.
We made it back to Richmond just in time to eat some breakfast and finally sleep. When the film was finally released on home video, three of us gals were living in an apartment together and we made a beeline for the video store. Upon a more lucid viewing of Lost Highway, we were a bit disappointed. The film didn't have nearly the same effect on us as it did the first time.
Now, a decade later, I can happily report that the film is standing the test of time admirably. I will soon be teaching a Surrealism in Film survey course at our art gallery and I'm excited about the Lynch aspect of this course (I intend to devote one class out of four to his work solely). I wholly believe that Lynch's work will be celebrated and studied for years to come, and, love it or hate it, Lost Highway will be considered a milestone in his oeuvre.
3 comments:
Most of David Lynch's films are almost shockingly simple. I think he likes to screw with people's minds but in the back of his own he's amused by how much analysis people put into puzzles that all have one basic key. (He has said as much, but a lot of people think *that's* his big joke.)
Lost Highway is basically Mulholland Drive in reverse. I think the structure of Mulholland Drive works better and I think it's a better film, but once you figure out that they're basically telling the same story, most of Lost Highway falls into place pretty neatly (and I'm not *really* giving anything away, because you still need to figure out Mulholland Drive!).
I know some people like to think that his movies are incredibly complex and I think some even like to think they're incoherent, because it makes them feel smart when they think they've figured out small parts of this grand puzzle. But the truth is that most of his films are intentionally stock stories - usually homages to b-movies or noir from the 1940's and 50's - with one or two twists to the plot structure. They just need to be unraveled, they're like a granny knot. You pull that one string and the whole thing comes apart in front of you.
I don't think that takes anything away from what he does, though. His films are not just weird. I actually think it's kind of an insult when people suggest that what makes him great is how strange his films are. Anyone can make a strange, incoherent film. Look at Crispin Glover's films, which are both weird and really, really dumb. David Lynch's films are superficially weird but fundamentally just great films - great characters, interesting writing, they're always beautifully shot and edited, they sound great, and they usually say something.
I haven't yet figured out Inland Empire, though. I gotta watch that one again, but it was hard enough to get through the first time. The guy does need to shoot on a medium that forces him to be efficient...
Wow, Jeff, you're a Lynch aficionado for sure!
Yes, the plot tricks can be "shockingly simple", but it can take a lot to have that moment of realization. That's asking a LOT from most audiences (the people who would sit through films like "Meet the Spartans" and whatnot). I don't really see Lost Highway as Mulholland Drive in reverse. I see Mulholland Drive as being rather sad and sentimental in a way, but Lost Highway feels a lot more abrasive and malevolent. The plot structure is similar, and I suppose it's become a sort of signature for Lynch.
No, his films are not just weird. Not at all. Otherwise he would have faded into obscurity with such folks as E. Elias Merhige who never quite could achieve maximum potential. I consider David Lynch to be one of the greatest directors of contemporary cinema not only because of the artistic nature of his beautiful films, but because his use of non-traditional narrative forces viewers to go beyond where they are used to going in the cinematic world.
I have not seen Inland Empire. I was in New York when it started playing and I went to the IFC Center where it was showing. There was a sign up that said that anyone who paid to sit through it nine times would get to see it for free the tenth time. That would be a feat. Thirty hours of Inland Empire. Looks like I'm gonna have to see it soon.
Wish you and Matt could stay up here longer after The Cure show. The AFI Silver theater in Silver Spring is going to be showing Eraserhead starting May 9.
I think I may need to see that one in a theater.
Post a Comment