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Föreningen Film i Malmö presents
Lynch has been working toward “Mulholland Drive” all of his career, and now that he’s arrived there I forgive him “Wild at Heart” and even “Lost Highway.” At last his experiment doesn’t shatter the test tubes. The movie is a surrealist dreamscape in the form of a Hollywood film noir, and the less sense it makes, the more we can’t stop watching it.
It tells the story of . . . well, there’s no way to finish that sentence. There are two characters named Betty and Rita who the movie follows through mysterious plot loops, but by the end of the film we aren’t even sure they’re different characters, and Rita (an amnesiac who lifted the name from a “Gilda” poster) wonders if she’s really Diane Selwyn, a name from a waitress’ name tag.
This is a movie to surrender yourself to. If you require logic, see something else. “Mulholland Drive” works directly on the emotions, like music. Individual scenes play well by themselves, as they do in dreams, but they don’t connect in a way that makes sense–again, like dreams. The way you know the movie is over is that it ends. And then you tell a friend, “I saw the weirdest movie last night.” Just like you tell them you had the weirdest dream. (Excerpt by Roger Ebert)