"The neat thing about film is that it can tell a little bit of a certain side of that thing that words couldn’t tell. But it won’t tell the whole story, because there are so many clues and feelings in the world that it makes a mystery and a mystery means there’s a puzzle to be solved. Once you start thinking like that you’re hooked on finding a meaning, and there are so many avenues in life where we’re given little indications that the mystery can be solved. We get little proofs - not the big proof – but little proofs that keep us going.”
– David Lynch
Taken from the reissued edition of Chris Rodley’s Lynch on Lynch, which was in 2005 expanded to include a chapter on the director’s then latest film, the above words are typically Lynchian in that they say so much whilst saying so little. Rodley’s book, despite Lynch’s well documented assertion that his films should do the talking, is far from the ‘book of riddles’ that it could have turned out to be. Despite clearly shying away from the more probing questions about his work (Rodley briefly recalls a telephone conversation with Lynch in which the director jokes about having had to check into a rape-crisis centre after their last interview session), Lynch’s answers are often insightful, always interesting and surprisingly candid. However, it is the subject of his 2001 film Mulholland Drive that he is most protective of; if it hasn’t been made clear already, Lynch unreservedly refuses to discuss any ‘meaning’ or ‘reason’ pertaining to his most enigmatic film.
Lynch seems to understand and embrace the subjective nature of the cinematic medium more than any other director working in or around Hollywood today. His films seek to foreground the power of the moving image and elevate it above and beyond conventional narrative patterns rather than present a harmonious package of narrative, theme and visual style as the mainstream Hollywood cinema demands. The critical response to Lynch’s specific style of filmmaking has typically made discussions of ‘dream logic’ its focus; the idea that any perceived reality in a David Lynch film may not be a reality at all. This theory, although itself being far from reductive, is predominantly grounded in the analysis of narrative form in Lynch’s films and often leads to the task of attempting to work out how his films make ‘sense’ by piecing together their fractioned narratives. This process, given precedent as it is over other possible avenues of criticism, frequently stifles the exploration of other areas of the directors work, of which there are many.
Another concerning aspect of the ‘dream logic’ theory is the connotation that there is a logic to be found irrespective of whether it makes sense. This is particularly pertinent when considering Mulholland Drive, with which the theory is often strongly linked. Mulholland Drive, despite its frequent reference to dreaming (the ‘Winkies’ sequence and the Cowboy’s ultimate line, “Hey pretty girl, time to wake up” amongst numerous other examples) is perhaps Lynch’s least logical film, if such a generalisation can be made. Whilst the term ‘dream logic’ is often intended to imply an absence of reason rather than an explanatory process through which cohesion can be gained, it is still primarily concerned with the notion of logic itself. Rather than the process of exploring how the seemingly arbitrary events might fit together, the focus shifts to an exploration of why they do not. Put simply, with the introduction of ‘dream logic’, everything can be explained away. My overriding concern is that ‘dream logic’ seems to act as more of an excuse than a theory. For those who watch films and demand a high level of cohesion, ‘dream logic’ is the perfect tool; it allows them the satisfaction of being able to say ‘it’s okay that this doesn’t make sense to me, because it’s all a dream and dreams don’t make sense either’.
It is testament to Lynch’s subjective cinema that an article of Mulholland Drive is rarely without the inclusion of the writer’s own interpretation of the events that take place in the film. My experience of reading these interpretations has resulted in what I believe to be the dominant reading of the film; that the final act is a reality in which the preceding events are dreamt up by the character of Diane Selwyn. That there is a dominant reading of this film alone is a fact that I choose to view with scepticism, such a thing renders much of the film’s subjectivity obsolete. Some interpretations convey a level of confidence in their own accuracy that I find implausible. These interpretations often only deal with the film’s primary narrative strand; the dynamic between Betty / Diane and Rita / Camilla, ignoring the labyrinthine sub-plots that accompany it. Other interpretations are exhaustive in their submission of theories and ideas, attempting to leave no stone unturned in a bid to elucidate the hidden meaning of the film; a meaning which I simply do not believe to be there.
The subjective nature of the film aside, Mulholland Drive is labyrinthine in its construction of sub-plots and what can best be described as ‘pockets’ of narrative. It is clear that the film doesn’t subscribe to the rigid, purposeful structuring of Hollywood mainstream narrative and due to this it is impossible for the film to be truly understood by the same rules. The film is comprised of seemingly arbitrary events that are linked through the films final third which is itself as detached from the first two acts as these events are from each other. Because Mulholland Drive is not a mainstream film that utilises mainstream narrative techniques and conventions it is pointless to attempt to contrive meanings that satisfy mainstream ideals. The film must be approached without the burden of reason in order to be truly appreciated.
Mulholland Drive is, in some respects, a cinematic dichotomy. Perhaps the overriding theme of the film is concerned with Hollywood itself; Betty travels to Hollywood from Canada in order to pursue her dream of being an actress, numerous scenes deal with studio politics and film production, especially the process of casting and the influence of Hollywood can be felt throughout the film. A number of scenes pay what could even be considered homage to the tradition of Hollywood cinema; Joe Messing’s hit man scene draws on the gangster and thriller genres, as does the opening limousine scene. Adam Kesher’s ‘pool guy’ scene evokes the family drama with comedic overtones whilst the casting call scene for The Sylvia North Story and the ‘club silencio’ scene share obvious comparisons with the musical. Most noticeably, Diane and Rita’s amnesia inspired attempt to find Rita’s true identity is the kind of narrative that could have been lifted straight from a golden age film noir. Even the mysterious ‘Cowboy’ can be seen as a nod to the Western, albeit at a push. These scenes do have self contained narratives that if viewed in isolation would appear to be lifted from a mainstream Hollywood film. However, it is their relationship to each other and some of the more obscure elements of the film that render Mulholland Drive so stark in comparison with the Hollywood tradition that the film takes as it’s theme. It could be argued that Lynch is making a statement about Hollywood itself by polarising his film with mainstream conventions whilst taking the context of these very conventions as his theme. This argument is strengthened by Lynch’s follow-up film Inland Empire, which too deals with the Hollywood film industry in typical evasive fashion.
It is possible then to establish meaning in Mulholland Drive without reason. Narrative and theme go hand in hand in the context of mainstream cinema, but with Lynch theme is foregrounded whilst narrative is undoubtedly less important. The theme of Hollywood gives the film a context, a tone and a style which is nothing if not consistent throughout the entirety of the film from the blurry-lensed 50’s jitterbug contest opening to the enigmatic and haunting finale. The lack of narrative cohesion allows Lynch to explore his theme in freeform rather than being bound by convention. Essentially, Mulholland Drive is constructed from a collection of abstractions that are brought together as a whole by a theme and cemented by Peter Deming’s floating cinematography and Angelo Badalamenti’s lush combination of synth and strings; despite its face-value impenetrability, the film is remarkably well rounded.
Films as emotionally overwhelming as Mulholland Drive often seem shallower with further acquaintance.
– Kim Newman (from Sight & Sound)
An interesting if slightly self-assured article about about Mulholland Drive entitled Babes in Babylon, written by Graham Fuller was published in Sight & Sound in December 2001 and can be found here.
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