I saw yesterday, for the third time, "Mulholland Drive" by David Lynch. And once again, I'm here to brood, to rethink the details, passages, to the wonderful interpretation of Naomi Watts, the genius of the director.
MD is a masterpiece, one of those rare films that do not end with a vision but who continue to surprise, to launch questions. You do not "grab" easily in many dismiss the question by saying "you do not understand anything." And instead, I think you understand much. O Lynch still wants to see much in his own way, of course. But it is how he chooses to excite. The story could be trivialized in a few lines. And who knows how many movies, TV series, novels have, to some extent, already been dealt. Love and jealousy, goals and dreams, triangles and emotional loneliness, careerism and ambition, art and pseudo-art.
But Lynch decided to take the road more difficult to tell the tragic story of an aspiring young film star, and ill love reciprocated by its more illustrious (and clever?) Links. The director decides to immerse the viewer in the standard space-time dimension of the story, but the universe dreamy, sentimental, irrational, the protagonist, making infer the history of the most intimate point of view that can exist: the subconscious. The bushes are not to lose the keys and blue cubes, and access elements of transition between reality and memories, dreams and desires. The film oozes with tension and mystery, distressing and anxious atmosphere. Why not be other than the mood of the character, tortured to the point of reaching a tragic gesture.
Lynch delves into the depths of her heroine not playing with the transfiguration of reality that occurs in dreams and staging of all torments and desires, frustrations and jealousies. The irrational is a film space so sublime, as, perhaps, only Federico Fellini was able to do in his time.
Between the lines, then, is the world of cinema and its illusions, a context from which the powerful and decadent Lynch seems to want to distance themselves (in fact the film, set in the Mecca of Hollywood film, was produced thanks to the "auteur" French finance). It outlines, in fact, as a world of false hopes, of mirrors and power, that not everyone can bear.
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