mementomori

a great character, starts with a bang, a sparkling growth, but in the end, it tires me a bit... in my opinion, Hollywood Party isn't a masterpiece... anyway, for fans of absurd comedy, I mention the French Louis de Funès, even if he doesn't drive me crazy... however, in Fantomas 70, he is perfect in the role of the clumsy commissioner... between Mere and Mora, I strongly side with Mere: as for ratings, he makes some crazy missteps, but there are more films, and they are better described (Morandini gets too lost in the plot, and then he doesn't acknowledge trash cinema...)

masterpiece! never have triviality, drama, and irony coexisted so happily... but what a long one! with those four leading actors, it could have lasted seven hours...

And Herzog, where do we put him? But back to us, one could indeed say a bit more, yet it’s also true that reviewing a film is a bit more challenging than reviewing a CD... then, with everything that has been written about Kubrick and this film, it's truly impossible to be exhaustive. I appreciate the gesture. Speaking personally, I go crazy at the very thought of the Nazi-delirious drivel of the doktor...

I forgot about the grades

I understand your point of view, you say true and sensible things, you speak with knowledge of the matter, but you find me on the other side of the spectrum. Given that I have a weakness for boring things, Antonioni is untouchable. Many of his films may seem dated today in terms of their message and intentions, but the magic remains intact, and more than ever in this film: the endless long takes, the allure of the images, the focus on details, certain technical virtuosity may even be annoying, and they might become mannerism in the future, but they remain the best (and the first!) attempts to express a sense of emptiness, an existential abyss in cinema. And for those who have patience and enjoy these things, it’s an endless pleasure. What can I do, stick a compass in my eyes?

what do you want from me kosmic girl, you keep going even in tough times, death goes on...

Two reviews on this film are few; everyone who has seen the movie should write one since each person will have drawn their own conclusions, and any attempt to provide a comprehensive view that is valid for everyone is impossible. Or at least there should be a third review that softens the two opposing and irreconcilable viewpoints that I believe stem from legitimate biases. I said it in the other review: Inland Empire is a good film, courageous, "absolute" in certain aspects, which makes the cinema of Lynch lose and at the same time gain something, and for this reason, in my opinion, still unjudgable (or better, above all judgment). Two notes for the reviewer, who shows knowledge and love for Lynch's cinema: first, there is a somewhat snobbish attitude towards those who do not appreciate the films and the director, falling in turn into the opposite prejudice of those who hate the director, wrongly accusing him of mannerism or self-referentiality: Lynch, let’s remember, is not the only author who disrupts the mechanism of cinema, and many do not reproach him for the lack of an intelligible plot, but for the lack of an "emotional sense" in the reception of the work. It cannot be said that the cinema of Tarkovsky, Godard, Herzog, Cronenberg, Antonioni, Fellini, Pasolini, and the like is easy, yet many enjoy it because, despite the incomprehensibility of the plot, they can perceive the various stylistic choices, thus using the medium as something focused and functional to a broader design or to a message or worldview of the author. So, it is not a matter of cinematic illiteracy, but of a subjective way of receiving an author and their art. This should not, of course, legitimize the demonization of an artist who does not resonate with one’s emotional chords. The other note for the reviewer is that in Inland Empire, unlike what has happened in other films by the director, it is impossible for the viewer to empathize with the characters' emotions: the film is scattered with clues and true revelations, but these revelations, which often blend with traps, are never truly shocking; instead, they are received in a rather anonymous way, as the bombardment of inputs means the brain doesn’t have time to process the information and put it together. This inability to distinguish between significant elements and misleading ones prevents a real emotional climax and a path of identification with the character, which, in my opinion, is fundamental for a healthy enjoyment of the cinematic work. To be revisited and rewatched.

Ok penis, I read the explanation on the site you recommended: the plot makes enough sense to me, I had guessed some things, missed others, but I also have the impression that it is somewhat of a forced reconstruction and that certain aspects remain in the shadows. I repeat: Lynch's skill in this case does not lie in the fact that there is a hidden plot (I refuse to conceive the film merely as a treasure hunt, like a puzzle to solve... also because the enjoyment of the work would become just a convoluted analysis, an intellectual exercise on the part of the viewer). Lynch's merit lies in having walked a very fragile line, in having created a labyrinth so complex that the brain, at least during the first viewings, is continually put to the test, because it is expertly bombarded by new inputs that, at the right moment and continuously, shatter every (temporary) attempt at logical construction. He has gone so far beyond that I can understand the understandable discontent of many who may not want to watch the film multiple times to find any sense in it. For now (who knows, maybe in the future I will change my mind) I place it a step below Mulholland, because in that film heart and brain went hand in hand, while here the emphasis was more on the latter, at the expense of the tension, pathos, and emotional enjoyment of the work. In any case, I am amazed at how that man is constantly ahead, and the more we fans try to keep up, the more he leaves us behind. Unreachable.

I really liked it, but I recognize its limitations. However, I wouldn't speak of mannerism or aesthetic flourishes for their own sake. Rather, there’s a lot of courage and a desire to experiment with new solutions: Lynch, fresh from his divorce and completely free (his wife was his editor and always pushed for the "normalization" of her husband's art), made a film for himself, a true artist's experiment, chasing his visions and disregarding how it would be received by the audience. Consequently, his detractors have one more reason to hate him, and perhaps this time even some of his fans have wavered.
Certainly, Lynch lost something, especially in terms of formal elegance. Moreover, the fact that the film went crazy from the beginning resulted in a lack of the tension that, for instance, was present in Mulholland Dr., where the elements get scrambled in the final act. Instead, right from the start, abandonment and passivity prevailed amidst the bombardment of nonsensical scenes. And the renunciation of any attempt at understanding actually diminished the pathos. Thus, all we could do was follow the events with unhealthy curiosity, and for that reason, I managed not to get bored for three hours (which is no small feat!).
I watched it a second time and I have to say that I understood even less than the first (indeed, with a more attentive eye, the plots thicken instead of simplifying), but from what I grasped the film was inspired by Laura Dern's monologue and then constructed progressively, so it's also pointless to strain too much in understanding its architecture and cinematic mechanism ("I saw dogs reflecting": perhaps he was referring to the audience).
It's also worth considering the possibility of mockery (the Fellinian reference could be a clue), but that does nothing to diminish the film's expressive power. For while Lynch has certainly lost something, it must be said that he gained something else: this time he truly went beyond, creating the most extreme film of his career and perhaps of cinema as a whole (speaking of mainstream), he demonstrated courage and the strength to change. A stream of consciousness that could compete with Joyce's (and even the great Joyce is not an easy or pleasant read... a matter of taste).
The choice of digital also didn’t disappoint me; it added sickness and morbidness to the whole, and there were indeed scenes that really struck me: like the outdoor barbecue... I found it so idiotic and at the same time surreal that it even unsettled me.
The bunnies were beautiful, Laura Dern was fantastic, and the music was lovely as usual. No, in my opinion, Lynch is beyond discussion; with Inland Empire he was a perfect architect of nonsense, as no one else could have been. It made me struggle (damn, those shaky and grainy shots with the handheld camera, tight spaces, close-ups, in the dark... I came out with ten fewer diopters!), that's true, but I wasn't disappointed. To be watched and rewatched and rewatched until blindness sets in...

Hi Lethe, thanks for the compliments... So, if you want to avoid the more industrial currents, I definitely recommend the latest "black ships ate the sky," which is very nice. This "island" should also suit you. Then of course there are "thunder perfect mind," "of ruine or some blazing starre," and "all the pretty little horses," which are the more folk-oriented ones, and perhaps the most beautiful (especially "of ruine..."). Also, "soft black stars" and "sleep has his house" are stunning, but they are the most minimal (or boring, depending on your point of view), so they require a bit more effort. I also recommend "six six six: sick sick sick," which contains several EPs, including the beautiful "tamlin" and "lucifer over london." "swastikas for goddy" is the first folk attempt, and it’s definitely the catchiest, but it sounds a bit raw and not always inspired. If you want a general overview, there's "calling for vanished faces," a great best of, or "all dolled up like christ," a good live album from '97 that encapsulates some of the best of the folk phase.