Mulholland Drive | David Lynch's Masterpiece

“Hey pretty girl, time to wake up.”

Dreams within dreams; illusions cracking in fragments. Let me paint you a picture: you’re young, in your twenties—vibrant. You have some confidence, and you might just have some talent. You pack up and move to LA. A voice from somewhere (e.g., the television) told you that’s where you have to be. Why? It’s Hollywood! Though maybe you flick past an article, ignoring the headline about something to do with the pervasive power of men in the industry. Or the Hollywood ‘Closet Culture.’ Maybe: ‘The Casting Couch.’ Dark tales of a bright land. You feel warned, and maybe you’ve had a couple of nightmares about it too—but you’ve got to go. Go and chase your dreams, confront this god-awful feeling. Just like how Dan (Patrick Fischler) confronted his nightmare about Winkie’s Diner. And I mean—literally confronted his nightmare.

Cinema makes you vulnerable and then proceeds to dominate your subconscious thoughts. David Lynch, one of our greatest auteurs, has a rather magical knack for this. In Eraserhead (1977), he might’ve stirred up a fear of parenthood in those who watched. In Blue Velvet (1986), while kicking down the white picket fence of Americana, he might’ve poked at your voyeuristic nature. Wild at Heart (1990) might’ve made you realise Elvis and his hyper-masculinity wasn’t so great! Whilst The Straight Story (1999) taught you to love those closest. However, Mulholland Drive (2001) attacks at what is perhaps the average moviegoers soft spot - Hollywood.

In the eighties and nineties, it is estimated that almost 500 Hollywood pictures were produced a year. Each one crafting an illusion for its audience to ogle at on the screen. Mulholland Drive isn’t any different in this sense, every frame of the film being of Lynch’s own design and brought to life to be shot on film and projected onto the screen. Lynch tells us this explicitly; ‘No Hay Banda’ as it is boomed through the Club Silencio is informing both Betty (Noami Watts) and Rita (Laura Harring) (or Diane/Camilla) that ‘There is no band’ and everything that’s seen on stage (everything we see on our screens) is an illusion. And such are the adventures of Betty and Rita.

In the opening to Mulholland Drive, Lynch drops us a POV shot of somebody falling asleep. This is later learned to be Diane Selwyn. Without getting too far into spoiler territory, She’s dreaming to escape her guilt. Unwilling to accept it, the dream builds up a life of how Hollywood should’ve treated her. Arriving in the holy land to be immediately baptised by the LA sunshine, and escorted in a distinctly American yellow-cab to her Aunt’s golden-age apartment. Immediately being cast in her first role as saviour to the damsel in distress; an amnesiac- who adopts the name Rita. The only reason she can’t land a real role: organised crime; fate. Select men who choose who and who can’t be a star in Hollywood- it’s not far from the truth. The pervasive power of men who operate casting couches within Hollywood are very real; and looking back in this Post-Weinstein era, Mulholland Drive certainly marks the turn of the century rebellion against this power. Like Hollywood, Diane disguises her guilt in glitz and glamour. And Mulholland Drive scrapes to decay that glitz and glamour much like it exposes a distinct decay of the Golden-Age of Hollywood.

Despite being distinctly contemporary, many have been confused by the exact timeframe of Mulholland Drive. David Lynch has said, “There is some kind of present, but the present is the most elusive, because it’s going real fast. There are still many places you could go in L.A. to catch the drift of the old golden age, but they’re getting fewer.” This clues us into why Mulholland Drive utilizes distinctly classy Americana locations in tandem with grim late-nineties payphones and coffee shops, and why Lynch, in one of the film's most profound frames, burns his two lead characters against the nighttime backdrop of the LA skyline, forever to be entwined with the falsehood of Hollywood.

Written By Matt Cooke | IG: @dontlookbackmatt