I don't mean any disrespect by this, but as far as I'm concerned, David Lynch deserves to be a cult artist. The key clause in the previous sentence is the one containing the words "as far as I'm concerned." Sure, it's always fascinating when one of Lynch's creative concoctions finds itself riding a wave of pop culture momentum — remember the excitement when Blue Velvet was almost a hit movie, or during the first season of Twin Peaks? But as capable as Lynch is at hitting the nerves of the zeitgeist, and as accessible as many of his individual moments of dread and mordant humor can be, left entirely to his own devices he's a very personal, intuitive and yes, somewhat hermetic artist, and INLAND EMPIRE (per Lynch, the title should always be in caps), shot on digital video with little money and no outside interference, sees Lynch very much left to his own devices. I'm stunned by it. The visual texture Lynch creates in a new medium isn't as immediately beautiful as what he's done in film, but it has its own (sometimes quite ugly) integrity. Lead actress Laura Dern, playing a woman named Nikki Grace who goes from slightly diva-ish movie star to discontented ranch-house housewife to some things wholly other in the course of this three-hour immersion, gives the performance of several careers if not lifetimes. The picture is replete with instant classic Lynchian moments, some completely hilarious, others pure nightmare fuel. So far, so great. But for some, the question will inevitably arise: "What does it all mean?" And that question will determine everything they think about the film in retrospect. And persons such as myself will be held accountable for not providing a satisfactory answer for the question. Now as it happens, I am working on a unified field theory of David Lynch films for my Premiere blog, which will be debuting in short order. But it's not ready yet. And even when it's ready, it may not satisfy the many people who have told me that A) they didn't like Mulholland Drive and B) it's my fault.
For now, let me say this: Some people have talked themselves into thinking that Lynch is a creator of incredibly elaborate, cerebral puzzles, rather like the French writer Georges Perec, and that the key to an enjoyment of his works is coming up with the correct solution to the given puzzle each of his films presents. I really don't think that's it at all, and I really don't think that's what Lynch had in mind when he remarked at the Venice Film Festival that INLAND EMPIRE is supposed to make "perfect sense." I believe he meant it's supposed to make perfect sense experientially, not linearly. And to this viewer, it did-three hours in a strange, electrifying, terrifying, beautiful place. As an old buddy of mine is fond of saying, "You don't get it? You got it."
