David Lynch Steers the Course to Cinematic Greatness via Mulholland Drive

 

With the passing of David Lynch, one of the cinema’s most daringly original and gifted talents, I found myself pondering the unique individuality and bizarre sensibility that were keystones of many of his dark-yet-richly-entertaining works. Viewing Blue Velvet, which brought Lynch to the forefront of American film directors in controversial fashion during the film’s initial 1986 release, his view of smalltown suburbia gone asunder with its plethora of oddball, unhinged characters and sometimes shocking imagery was hard to forget, and I knew I was watching an intuitive, inventive director unlike any other, but with this admiration was wariness concerning the mature, unsettling content I’d never seen before as a young movie lover. I’d previously watched Lynch’s first big critical success, the moving and more conventional The Elephant Man, and from the ado surrounding Velvet was prepared for something different and flat-out weird, but was floored by the disquieting impact the film had on me. I was greatly intrigued by Lynch’s output from this point, happy to see his major career upswing with television’s enthusiastically received Twin Peaks, then being rattled again with 1997’s eerie Lost Highway, followed by Lynch’s huge artistic shift doing a sweet, poignant Disney movie, The Straight Story, which led to his penultimate film and possibly most highly-regarded masterpiece, the fascinating, beautiful and perplexing Mulholland Drive.

With Mulholland, which he initially planned for a television pilot, Lynch demonstrated he was in full capacity of his considerable imaginative powers, indicating a confident, brave, singular directorial approach from the opening shot, as an array of dancers performing ala 1940’s style fill the screen in a disoriented manner, setting the tone for the puzzling events to come, to the movie’s bleak final denouement. With fearless creativity, Lynch stages one indelible sequence after another using a variety of methods, including riveting tracking and zooming shots and close-ups, to design moments that sear in an audience’s memory, from an artfully staged car crash at the film’s outset, which helps literally set the mystery in motion, to a fun, colorful set piece offering homages to two classic pop hits, “Sixteen Reasons” by Connie Stevens and “I’ve Told Every Little Star” by Linda Scott, to the dark tonal alteration towards the final stages of the film, which leaves a viewer wondering exactly how to take all that’s preceded. Although the audacious, often-seemingly incoherent storyline could be maddening in the wrong hands Lynch, aided by a tranquil-yet-ominous score by Angelo Badalamenti (who also plays a key minor role), vivid cinematography by Peter Deming and truly first-rate editing by Mary Sweeney, somehow manages to keep the nonsensical structure of the piece moving in a dreamy, completely involving manner, allowing viewers to draw their own conclusions as they muse over exactly what Lynch’s narrative is about, while still respecting and admiring the rich entertainment he’s providing them.

After first making an impact in her native Australia in television and movies, Naomi Watts gained her breakthrough with audiences worldwide via Mulholland, and also perhaps her best screen role. As Betty Elms, the innocent ingenue who comes to Hollywood to find fame and fortune, and meets a wealth of intrigue instead after encountering a beautiful young woman who survived the car crash and can’t remember anything else, Watts brings a wide-eyed innocence and gentle, compassionate nature to her sincere playing, allowing viewers to connect with the wholesome, honest character immediately, while wondering what this talented fresh face did before Mulholland. In possibly her best scene as Betty, the novice performs maybe the most intimate and surprisingly adept audition in film history, and proves herself an actor of great merit, to both the onscreen observers and the Mulholland audience. Later in the movie, Watts is able to delve deep after evolving into another persona, Diane Selwyn, who serves as an emotionally unstable counterpoint to the sunny Betty. Although Lynch throws out this plot twist with his typically impish flair that keeps viewers fully vested in the proceedings, where other directors attempting this quirky spin would witness a wreck bigger than the one at the film’s outset, one is still unsure just how to unravel exactly what’s going on, and who and where Betty is now. However Watts, with a dedication and acting prowess that is unshakeable, makes Diane’s despair heartbreakingly real, helping the film’s final act to linger long after the fadeout. Post- Mulholland, Watts has maintained a strong career as one of filmdom’s leading ladies, with highlights including great work in Peter Jackson’s hit 2005 King Kong remake, and Oscar nominations for ace dramatic work in the grim 21 Grams and the harrowing The Impossible.

As “Rita,” Betty’s new friend and then some, the stunning Laura Elena Harring does an expertly subtle job of illustrating the haunted nature of her character, who can’t recall her past after surviving the crash. There’s a fragile, faraway quality to Harring’s presence on screen that’s ideal for the wayward character, and she works beautifully with Watts, helping to make their deepening relationship resonate in compelling fashion. Similar to Watts, Harring has to manage a late-film transition into an alternate character, the seductive siren Camilla Rhodes (also played by Mellisa George in the movie), and with her aloof interpretation Harring makes the switch entirely convincing, while her remarkable visage, perfect for Camilla, suggests a throwback to glamour from an era long past (she earlier had properly named herself Rita after seeing a poster of Rita Hayworth at her most alluring in “Gilda”), adding an aptly flamboyant dimension to a movie set in a Hollywood of Lynchian proportions. Harring rose to prominence as Miss USA 1985, then worked frequently before and after Mulholland in projects of varying quality and interest, with her key contribution to Lynch’s extraordinary, illusory tour de force securing her place in cinema history.

Among the rest of an entertaining, eclectic cast, the enduring Ann Miller found herself ending her incredible film career on a high note after starting it over sixty years before in classics such as Stage Door and You Can’t Take It with You. As Coco, the friendly but worldly-wise and alert landlord who welcomes Betty to her aunt’s residence, Miller makes Coco a personable figure at the outset, then becomes terser as Betty’s circumstances change and become more complex at the complex. In the primary male role of Adam Kesher, a young director who seems overwhelmed by Betty after noticing her on a set, the awesomely be-specked Justin Theroux does a nice job of making the character believable with an edgy, straightforward acting style. The low-keyed, amiable and hunky Billy Ray Cyrus pops up as a rival for Adam’s wife’s charms, and Lee Grant has a fine time with her cameo as Lousie Bonner, a senile neighbor of Betty who appears at her door in a foreboding manner.

James Karen does a nice job as Wally Brown, the warm, supportive and slight off-kilter Hollywood insider at Betty’s audition, while Chad Everett has a late-career highlight as the actor who gets caught up with Betty in her audition scene, doing some potent emoting of his own as things heat up between the ardent thespians. Indicating the robustness found in Mulholland’s roster of players, veterans Robert Forester and Dan Hedaya also show up in bit parts. Monty Montgomery has perhaps the most weirdly Lynchian role as the calm, unnamed cowboy who meets Adam in a remote locale and offers him advice in a highly portentous fashion. Finally, singer Rebekah Del Rio is astoundingly dynamic in a key sequence late in the film, performing a passionate Spanish version of the Roy Orbison hit “Crying” at the Club Silencio, as Rita and Betty sit by watching avidly, both becoming increasingly overwrought in the process.

With its premiere at the Cannes Festival in May of 2001, Mulholland Drive immediately received ecstatic reviews from critics, with Lynch winning Best Director at Cannes for the first of many prizes for the film, leading to buzz for the film as movie lovers eagerly sought out Lynch’s latest excursion into cinematic parts unknown, while general audiences largely opted to play it safe with more accessible fare. Come awards season, the film made its mark, with a further Best Director prize from the L.A. Film Critics Association, along with Best Picture awards from the New York Critics Circle and National Society of Film Critics (where Watts also won Best Actress), as well as placement among the National Board of Review’s top ten films. The film gained four Golden Globe nominations, including Best Drama Picture, Director, Score and a second nod to Lynch for his multifaceted screenplay, while France’s Cesar Awards named Mulholland Best Foreign Film. Peter Deming’s evocative cinematography won at the Independent Spirit Awards, while Sweeney won a well-earned British Academy Award for Best Editing. At the Academy Awards, Lynch’s direction was granted the film sole nomination, leaving out a wealth of deserving nominees, including Watts for one of the singular performances of the era. However, the sterling reputation of Mulholland Drive as one of the preeminent movies of the 21^st Century has continued apace since its release, evidenced by the film placing at #28 on the esteemed Sight and Sound poll of critics in 2012, then rising to #8 on the 2022 poll. Those wishing to honor Lynch’s seminal artistic vision with a screening of a major work from his diverse filmography will do well opting for an enigmatic cinematic journey like no other traversing down his ambiguously stimulating Mulholland Drive.

P.S.: I once saw Lynch in person at the Egyptian Theater, during the 2010 AFI Festival after a showing of Eraserhead and just before a screening of Sunset Boulevard. I filmed the appearance, wherein Lynch answers several questions in his calm, reflective manner, giving off vibes he existed in his own world (just as a fan might suspect he did while making his movies), before introducing Boulevard, which he mentioned as a favorite. The video can be viewed here.