The Last Castle

In 1994, The Shawshank Redemption set the standard by which every other movie set in a prison is, and should be, measured against. Now I do not expect any movie to come near the quality and mastery of that film, but it is hard not to recognize when a film is inspired from another source. I will have to say, though, that if you're going to copy, at least copy from the best…and that is what The Last Castle does. It is a typical prison movie that doesn't do anything spectacular or anything wrong. It follows in the steps of its predecessors, sometimes paying homage, other times breaking new ground. Of course if you look hard enough, you can find holes in consistency, plot and characterizations, but what separates Last Castle is the passion and national fervor that it may instill, and the strong performances that can overcome any flaws and leave a sense of passion, spirit and the ability to overcome under any circumstances.

General Eugene Irwin (Robert Redford) has been sent to a military prison known as The Castle. He is sent there for disobeying a direct order from the president, and is therefore a military criminal in the eyes of the law. But he is no ordinary soldier. He is a well-decorated veteran who "should have a base named after him" as the leader of the prison Col Winter (James Gandolfini) points out upon hearing that Gen. Irwin is coming to his prison. But Winter's mood changes based mostly upon a comment made by Redford during their initial meeting, and then the reaction of the inmates to the general and vice versa. What follows is a fairly by the book, yet compelling power struggle between two men impassioned by similar inspirations who deliver upon them in different ways. Winter is very obviously envious of Irwin's successes and subsequent quiet egotism about his accomplishments. Director Rod Lurie, who turned the political thriller The Contender into an intense compelling ride, does the same here. He creates a mental and physical chess game by combining tense dialogue with an understated competition, which then concurrently implodes, then explodes. Just as in The Contender, Lurie has created yet another compelling character study and power struggle, with the military mindset, instead of politics being the target this time. Sure, there are plot holes if you look hard and close enough, such as the presence of Robin Wright Penn, as Irwin's daughter, who is brought in, touches on what could be yet another potential storyline, but is then completely forgotten about. This is one of a few little things that may nag at the nitpicking viewer after the movie is over, but it shouldn't deter anyone from enjoying this experience. This is a movie where you just sit back and get behind the characters and story, and admire the performances and the way it makes you feel afterwards. In my eyes, movies are not only a reflection and commentary on our culture, but also an escape from reality and its madness, created to generate an emotion. The Last Castle does this, despite its mistakes, and that is what I admire, and why I recommend it.

Lurie has a great ability, similar to Scorsese and other great directors, of harnessing and utilizing great talent, while also bringing out the best in those who may have potential and never showed it before. As Irwin, Redford is near perfection as the quietly confident leader. He consistently shows a calm intensity, even if simmering to the point of eruption on the inside. His showdowns with Gandolfini are like two gunfighters at the acting corral. As the simmering villain, Gandolfini's Winter, who leads through intimidation out of spite and envy when provoked by Redford's presence, shows another facet of his ever-growing repertoire. He matches Redford's quiet intensity and exerts an air of intimidation with just a look, or a sarcastic smirking comment. Inside, you know every vein is seething in rage, but it all filters out only in looks and occasional words. Just as in The Mexican, the film is worth seeing just for him. As far as supporting roles, this was the first major role for Ruffalo following his well-deserved critical acclaim for You Can Count on Me. In this role, he is good, but not really given that much of a challenge with he material or role, he showed in You Can Count on Me that he can handle a multifaceted character and bits of that potential shine through, but the fact is his character was underwritten, but maybe so that he wouldn't steal the limelight from the true focuses. Also noteworthy is Clifton Collins, who was outshined in Tigerland by Colin Farrell, and here holds his own with the big boys, as the stuttering Iglesias, obviously in awe, but truly passionate and emotional about his beliefs and feelings. Lurie has indeed got the best of a large cast, from big roles to small.

Ultimately, The Last Castle is an inspiring, passionate, albeit wholly unoriginal look at the power struggle, both internal and external, that can exist when situations of morality and compassion are presented. Power does corrupt, but can it also build and strengthen the soul if utilized and directed properly? The Last Castle touches on these issues, while following Shawshank's lead (down to copying scenes involving betting on the life expectancy of a prisoner, the bonding with the inmates via hard labor and a musical courtyard interlude). However these are done more in tribute than in intentional sacrilege. There are very few avenues left to be explored by movies involving prisons, so as long as the missteps aren't major, the imitation is done in tribute, then I can respect the effort, as I do here. With the lines and definition between good and bad being blurred due to recent events, and the bonding and healing of a nation united coming to the forefront, this should be a film to unite and rally behind as an example of the power of the human spirit. Witness a scene which embodies everything good, in this film, and the country, towards the end of the movie. If it doesn't stir your heart, based on recent events, I'm not sure what will. I don't know if Lurie added this scene in after the fact or not, and frankly I don't care. The film and effort represents the fact that Hollywood and the world shall go on. This is the right film, at the right time, done in just the right mood and tone. The flaws realized after the fact and upon reflection, can be forgiven in light of the intentions and prevailing attitude.

Those who have ever put any kind of thought or credence would agree that there is a circular kind of irony existent in nature. The Yin and Yang, what goes around comes around, the circle of life, however it chosen to be phrased the similarities in philosophy are there for those who want to, or care to know. Socially, and culturally, it has been touched on from mediums ranging from the Bible to The Byrds to Walt Disney; and now add Peter Jackson and J.R.R. Tolkien into this philosophical mix. With The Lord of The Rings, Jackson has not only translated Tolkien's tale of a search for identity, power and meaning into a grand and epic vision, but has also brought this tale full circle cinematically. What Tolkien began all those years ago, influencing, either directly, or indirectly, most fantasy and science fiction, has now benefited from the cinematic advances that these translations bore, and come together into a stylishly visual tale, which should appease young and old, familiar and unfamiliar, and anyone else who just appreciates good cinematic art and storytelling.

For anyone who was either not forced to read, or chose to read and forgot, here is a basic recap of the story. As in Harry Potter, those familiar can skip ahead a bit, but not as much, because Jackson, unlike Chris Columbus, did exercise his creative license, but still has just as successful of results, thanks to his presentation. The setting is Middle Earth, and we are given the tale of the birth of a Ring (circular, irony intended, I am guessing), which contains powers unimaginable. The ring journeys through owners, until it finds its way into the Baggins clan. Bilbo (from Tolkien's The Hobbit) has possession, but passes it to his younger relative Frodo (Elijah Wood). The only problem is that the Ring's creator isn't exactly gone, and wants it back. Possession by him would likely spell doom, so Frodo sets out on a journey to destroy the ring. Guided by the wise wizard Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellan), Frodo picks up a fellowship of companions to help and protect him in the quest, and the majority of the movie is their journey to Mordor, the place of the ring's creation and the only place it can be destroyed. Now it's been a long while since I read these stories, but it slowly started coming back to me as the movie progressed, and from what I recall, Jackson was fairly faithful. Granted, he may have added or expanded some roles, and thrown in a bit too many warrior style fighting sequences, but these are forgivable, when the excess is also used to create a story which keeps us interested and, in the end, wanting the next movie to start as soon as possible. And the visuals, the sets and the music: all of these are so grandiose and epic that it will be a tough race between the young wizard and the young hobbit as to who will be rewarded by Oscar. The audiences have already been rewarded though, with this film that hearkens back to Star Wars in its feel, look and style. This one will stand the test of time, proudly, as the epic that all who anticipated it hoped would be. It boils down to a tale of good versus evil told from a differing perspective, one where the unexpected, in this case the smaller of body but bigger of heart, may triumph over the more obvious physical presences. Tolkien emphasizes finding and focusing on the purity of inner personality traits--friendship, loyalty, honesty, trust--rather than those that most would normally think, or has been portrayed in past cinematic and literary efforts. Channeled through Jackson, Tolkien's words and message have never rang truer or louder.

The performers could have easily been relegated to little more than messengers and fighters swallowed by scenes and effects, but each actor gives life and personality to Tolkien's words (through Jackson and screenwriters Fran Walsh and Phillippa Boyens). The camera angles to differentiate height are aided by Wood, Sean Astin and the other smaller roles (figuratively, and literally) portraying them as diminutive in stature, but never in heart. As Gandalf, McKellan not only looks the role, but comes across with his sagely annunciation and attitude which is pitch perfect. Viggo Mortensen, Hugo Weaving, Cate Blanchett (in a cameo) and even Christopher Lee all make their roles their own, by sliding into character and giving newcomers to story, vocals and image to assist in the fertilization of their young minds with the magic of this tale. Although I could have done without Liv Tyler's turn as an elven princess (every movie does not need a love angle, Hollywood, get that into your head!) overall, the actors became the characters, and in doing so, a part of movie history.

Ultimately, Lord of The Rings bring the movie, science fiction, fantasy and storytelling world into full circle and into an epic and tantalizing conglomeration. Forget the hype, the expectations, the desire of the fanatics to remain true, the wants of those unfamiliar but intrigued by the trailers, and anything else you may have heard since this project's inception. Take this film for what it is: a stunning, and visual, medieval masterpiece to rival the great journey films of all time. Whether the destination is physical, or mental, Jackson's vision and translation of Tolkien's tale and message is one to be seen, appreciated and honored by all who view it. Soak in what you see, absorb what you hear, and cherish the message and the messenger.

The Majestic

The creation and birth of great ideas happens nearly every day in Hollywood. The problem that most of them run into is that they are little more than that, an idea that lacks any depth or follow-through. With The Majestic there existed an idea, the description of which, sounded intriguing but also generated questions in my mind. How will it get from the setup to the conclusion, and will it have enough depth and legs to make it there, reasonably, sensibly, and in a way that is entertaining? The answer is much more complicated than the question. While it does resolve everything, and does have enough to carry through, the majority of it is typical cookie-cutter ideas filled in, and dragging towards an ending that never seems to want to get there, until every possible heartstring has been tugged and manipulated. It is very difficult to fault Frank Darabont for what he does with The Majestic. This feel-good journey of discovery takes no chances, nor does it stray far from the predictable steps expected from the trailer, and while it is a safe bet to say that it's next to impossible not to be smiling and have a warm feeling in your heart, the trip becomes a bit frustrating as it never quite seems to know when or how to end, or seems to be afraid to, in lieu of not inserting all of the requisite scenes. With his previous efforts, Darabont at least went out on the limb a bit, and strayed from the norm, but this time, as Oscar roles around again, he filled the film full of nomination clips and typical occurrences, all bathed in a sugary sweet coating, which comes out leaving a good taste, but not a memorable one.

The beginning of this movie made me yearn more to live in Hollywood, than any movie in recent memory. The explanation of the magic of the movies, and the power of the written word, will always hold a close spot in my heart, and this movie starts off with a big plus in my book but never goes anywhere with it really, keeping it safe, rather than risk upsetting or alienating anyone. I guess the closest thing to daring that this screenplay does is revealed early on, as screenwriter Peter Appleton (Jim Carrey) sits in on a reviewing of his latest script, hearing it torn to pieces basically. Appleton later finds out that, because of his lusting for a female in college, he has been caught up in the red scare of the 50's, and labeled a Communist sympathizer. Frustrated, he drives away from Hollywood, in a slightly intoxicated stupor, only to crash into a river, get carried into the ocean, and awash on a beach, suffering from amnesia. He ends up in the town of Lawson, where he conveniently resembles a missing war hero. The town embraces him immediately, as does his "father" (Martin Landau), as he becomes the revitalization to a town that lost more than its share during the war. As I have stated, it is fairly clear where this movie will go, and what it will do. The only mystery becomes is he or isn't he, and even this is handled simplistically, despite giving hints at something that could have been. During the early parts of this movie, I subconsciously made a list of moments that I expected to happen, not knowing the specifics, but just generalizations. I hoped it wouldn't follow them to a tee, but it did, and took far too long in doing so; hence my faults with the delivery of what could have been an interesting message in other hands.

This was supposed to be Carrey's Oscar chance, part 3, and is a departure from his norm of physicality and slapstick humor. But while proving that Carrey can indeed handle an emotionally complex role, it is nowhere near on par with Man on The Moon or Truman Show. Just like the film, he retains his playful, child-like spirit, by being both fun loving, innocent and sweet with neither ever really wowing or blowing you away. Carrey seems to be a kid walking around in a grown-up's body, showing that he can be as silly and goofy as he can innocent and vulnerable. I just hope that those who like this film will respect Carrey for who he is, and what he can do. The only other performance to take away from this would be that of Landau, nearly stealing the scenes with his youthful glow and exuberance. In a year devoid of great supporting performances (which this one won't be) he would get some consideration, but the toothache, bellyache and near comatose state of the Oscar viewers after seeing this may dilute his chances, as well as the film's.

Ultimately, The Majestic is a charming, simple, heart wrenching, yet mildly exhausting effort in showing how we can discover our true selves by seeing a side we may not have known existed. Movies that seek to touch the hearts and souls can do so, by not always following a set path, but by wandering into areas that we have never seen before, and giving our soul a chance to sympathize, empathize and feel something new. Also, in resolving these stories, stick with an ending, instead of exploring several and teasing us towards one, while instead tying up and building awards resumes for the performers. This is a harmless effort in tireless futility that is impossible to fault for its intention, but impossible not to in execution. It stays its course, and succeeds in touching nearly every emotion, but like the cinematic cotton candy that it is, once its gone it really wasn't that memorable, but still harmless.

The Man Who Wasn't There

Only the Coen brothers could intermingle existentialism, film noir, UFO's, piano prodigies, fortunetellers and barbers into a compelling piece of cinematic art. The Man who Wasn't There is a stylish, sometimes languishing but never dull look at how ordinary people act and react under extraordinary circumstances. Think about it, less than 2% of the population is known by about 98% of it. Name off a list of 20 celebrities and/or athletes, and odds are, someone will recognize a name on that list. Most of us who exist in that 98% walk around, wondering, questioning, thinking, pondering, but usually never finding, our reason or purpose for being here. We walk around, unnoticed by most, each of us with our own dilemmas, joys, and pains and life events that we react to, as if we are unique. We feel like ghosts on the grand stage of life, some like it, others don't, but we still continue on, moving forward toward a destination that we don't know, following a path we sometimes do not understand. This film embodies that feeling without flaunting it in our faces, capitalizing and overreacting as most movies would have. Director Joel and writer Ethan take a simple tale of a barber, his unfaithful wife, a department store manager, an entrepreneur and a talented teen, and use their magic to create a powerful message about life. Since the film is in black and white, the characters and dialogue are more noticeable, yet the Coen's obviously learned from Hitchcock and Welles, amongst others, and use lighting, shadows, angles and smoke to give the look of the film a life of its own. The end result is a cinematic gift, which, if you're patient, will pay off in ways that will stay with you long after the smoke has cleared.

Since the revelation, explanation, and resolution of the plot are part of the movie's noir-esque magic, I will layout only the basics, and leave the Coens' best intentions to do the rest. It is 1940's, Anytown USA; Eddie Crane (Billy Bob Thornton), a simple barber, is married to Doris (Francis McDormand), who is emotionally just about the exact opposite of Eddie. She is lively, and passionate, and as extroverted as Eddie is introverted. Eddie has dreams, buried deep inside him, which seep out just as slowly as his walk and his voice. He wants what most people want: success, money, and happiness. He just goes about in his own low-key manner, figuring that simplicity and commonality will pay off in the long run. Doris works at a local department store, for Big Dave Brewster (James Gandolfini), who loves to weave his manly tales of war and battle. Eddie also befriends a young girl, Birdy (Horse Whisperer and Ghost World's Scarlett Johanssen), who has a natural talent for the piano and whose own father is slowly drinking himself unconscious.Throw in some UFO's, an egotistical piano teacher, an Italian picnic, and a fast-talking entrepreneur and you have only a story that the Coens could pull off. In its classic unveiling, Man Who Wasn't There seems to be American Beauty filtered through Hitchcock, and told by Raymond Chandler. It twists so slowly, yet drastically, that's its almost frighteningly real and believable in all its dark touches. The story is carried by its look; a Citizen Kane-style combination of shadows, light and always-present cigarette smoke. The thing I love about black and white photography is that it leaves most things to the imagination and gives the storytellers carte blanche to build something, without the distraction of color. Here, it sets the mood for what's to come in a way that color may have tainted. The background, the costumes, the scenery, all seem to disappear, as if they are not as important as the people moving around within them. There are so many evidences, and inferences as to Eddie not being "there" that I will let the viewer discover them on their own, and discuss later. And believe me, you will be talking about this movie, if you have patience and let it seep its way slowly inside you.

The characters become the key in this story, since there are really only two instances of exuberant emotion or action. The key to it all is Thornton, playing Crane down to near Prozac overdose level, by using his words to show his emotions, rather than his facial expression or action. Think Karl Childers with a flat top and cigarettes. He is a simple man, a man who isn't there, yet walks around in the body of a man who is. Thornton, for all his recent eccentricities, was the perfect choice for this role. He has shown a penchant for the simple man, conflicted, fighting within himself to do what is right, and here, he keeps it all bottled inside like a volcano that erupts with a patience that is nearly unrecognizable. Also pitch perfect in supporting roles are Gandolfini, showing yet another aspect of his acting ability, playing the oafish, wanna-be tough guy, struggling to be cute and succeed, McDormand, who just naturally slips into her woman wanting more, but settling for what she has, Michael Badalucco, as the lovable, huggable, best friend, who may or may not have more going on behind his façade, and the underrated Johannsen (whom I still believe was robbed of a nomination for Horse Whisperer) who walks the line of playful innocence and mature poise with a frightening ease. Along with Thornton though, I beg the Academy to pay attention to the scene-stealing Tony Shalhoub, as lawyer Freddy Reidenschneider. This was obviously a role written to be the antithesis of Crane, and given the most color of any character in the film, hence it could have easily been overdone, or hammed up by the wrong actor. But Shalhoub injects the right amount of swagger and sarcasm into this role, offsetting nearly every other performance in the film, yet fitting right, in the Coens' own version of the world.

Ultimately, The Man Who Wasn't There is a darkly noir-ish look at the existential thoughts, which bounce around in everyone's mind and souls, but are rarely vocalized. While the pacing is a bit languishing, and the film is not for the impatient, those who recognize and are observant will notice that the characters each independently reflect differing aspects of the same battle. We are each soldiers in the battle to find our purpose and place in the world. Whether we silently walk through life, waiting for things to fall in our laps, or we go after them with a confidant, or braggadocios swagger, or seek the simple satisfaction, even when confront with opportunity, or even if we just dream out loud, those of us who haven't "made it" each have our own way of seeking the answers and truth as to our existence. Each of the characters' emotions and characters embody differing aspects of people on the outside looking in, and how they react when extraordinary situations present themselves The Coens simply put these into bodies, took away the color, and let it come from the characters, their reactions, and the situations presented. The result is an instant classic which everyone should see, because it is a beautiful piece of classic film making, with homage's, obviously to Hitchcock, Billy Wilder and Orson Welles, but that not every one may have the patience to stick with or understand. Just open your mind, and let the Coens show you their version of the answer, as sought by the simplistic dreamers of Santa Rosa who are more like you and me then we care to admit.

Monsters Inc.

There is no denying that Disney and its affiliated animation offspring Pixar have always had their finger on the pulse of what appeals to the young and the young at heart. Just when it seemed that things were going flat for the Mouse House, here came Pixar with Toy Story to breathe new life into the newly created animation wars between studios. Pixar's presence has allowed exploration into new aspects of youthful curiosity. With their first few efforts, successful or not, they have delved into the wondrous side of the innocence, secrecy and curiosity behind the unknown. Now with Monsters Inc. they have explored, exploited and attempted to explain the lives behind the things that go bump in the night. While the effort is breathtaking to look at, and at times innovative intelligent and creative, it falls prey to the same fate of A Bug's Life, in that it presents a sharp, intelligent, entertaining setup and conclusion, but tends to lag a bit in between. Since this is aimed at children, I base this on not only my reaction, being a kid at heart, but also on the fidgeting and impatience that I sensed in the audience, through the middle parts of the film. The overall wonderment, magic and universal appeal still manages to shine through in true Disney fashion and deliver a message that is nice to look and marvel at but also touches something deep inside.

I've often wondered, did movies create the fear in children, or vice versa? Were horror movies just the exorcised manifestation of the filmmaker's youthful fears, or did they create a sense of paranoia, caution and dread in a new generation? Regardless, for decades, the monster movie and stigma has always maintained a frightening, yet irresistible appeal. Who among us cannot say they were not curious about what came up when the lights went out? How many of us can plead innocent to peeking a few times under our beds when we heard a strange noise, or saw something unidentifiable in the darkness (which usually turned out to be a shirt draped over a chair or something)? Once we did those things, our imaginations usually ran rampant with the possibilities of monsters or evil beings waiting to take our souls or our teeth. Monsters Inc. must have been written by a group of grown-ups trying to expunge or explain those mysteries of youth, and what a job they do. Monstropolis is a city populated by those creatures that come out of our closet, and from under our bed. The city is inhabited with every type, big and small, young and old, who have normal jobs and lives, mirroring our own society right down to work habits, media exploitation and governmental cover-ups. Mike and Sully (Billy Crystal and John Goodman, respectively) are best friends, who also work at Monsters Inc., the power company for the city. You see, it's the screams of young children, scared by the monsters that is harnessed for power and drives the city. But there is a crisis, as the head of Monsters Inc (James Coburn) says, "Kids just aren't as scared of monsters as they used to be" The race is then on, to set a new "scream" record, between Sully, the current leader, and Randal (Steve Buscemi). Now here comes the best part, in a fitting bit of irony, it turns out the monsters are more scared of us than we are of them. One touch can be deadly, they believe. Everything is thrown into turmoil when a little girl gets into the factory, and the city, and generates fear and paranoia that, at first, is downright laughable, yet ironic. With all this established in a masterfully written fashion, Monsters Inc. then really has nowhere to go, because the same scenarios are repeated, or the typical paths are taken, and this is when the movie sags and slows itself to a near standstill. But thankfully, the ending, including the requisite breathtaking visual scene, and establishment of the next ride at Disneyland, carries the movie to its expected feel good conclusion. The voiceovers, which have now become a status symbol in Hollywood, are effective, and entertaining, especially Crystal, but it's getting more difficult not to try and spend most of the movie figuring out who's doing whom. The joy of Prince of Egypt was its ability to steal the focus away from the voices, and into the story. Here I could almost see Coburn, Buscemi and Jennifer Tilly hamming in front of the microphone. A slight annoyance, but in the grand scheme of entertainment, Monsters Inc's faults are definitely forgivable.

Ultimately, Monsters Inc. is a joyful, successful, witty thrill ride, which explores and exploits that which affects most people. The fear of the unknown is probably what fuels our curiosity to explore and explain why things are the way they are. These explanations, when taken to a serious level, can frighten us with possibility and probability of truthfulness. This is why the horror movies that work the best are the ones that strikes the closest to reality, or our perception of it. Monsters Inc turns this perspective to another side, offering a lighter, believable, yet still slight fantasy-based version of the other side of things. While it doesn't maintain the consistently entertaining spirit, heart and active nature of Toy Story, it still will touch nearly every emotion, from smiles, to fear, to visual satisfaction, in an intelligent, yet universally appealing manner.

Mulholland Drive

Tell you 'bout a dream that I have every night/It ain't kodachrome and it isn't black and white

Mulholland Drive is not a film for everyone. David Lynch's dreamscape style look at the simultaneous construction, dissection, explanation, chronology and destruction of the Hollywood dream will come as no major surprise for those familiar with his work and used to his combination style of visual confusion and storytelling wrapped in one twisted mass of celluloid. Before Memento, before The Sixth Sense, even before The Usual Suspects, there he was giving us his own cinematic twists and turns while other filmmakers were still in diapers. Regardless of success, there is one undeniable fact about a film by Lynch, it will be unlike anything you've ever seen before, and if you see it again, it is because he inspired it. Mulholland Drive is his latest form of abstract movie making. It is stylish, beautiful, dark, mysterious, confusing and yet powerful. He has a way of incorporating all of those elements into an effort which will make you wonder before, keep you watching during, and inspire discussion afterwards. You may not understand it, but you will appreciate it.

Take me for a fool if you feel that's right/Well I'm never on my own but there's nobody in sight /I don't know if I'm scared of the lightning/Trying to reach me, I can't turn to the left or the right/I'm too scared to run and I'm too weak to fight

This time around, Hollywood is the target and setting for his kaleidoscopic view of life. It is a fantasy of many, attained by few and merciless sometimes in its delivery of lessons and justice. It is the bright lights, big city dream of wanting to be famous, to be noticed, to be a somebody and to escape the humdrum of the ordinary. Under its warped surface, this is the underlying message in Mulholland Drive. Originally, this was set to be a pilot for an ABC series, following up his Twin Peaks success. But it was rejected, and it's not hard to see why. This is unconventional entertainment personified, and Lynch knew it, so he took his odd little toys and ideas, added in some sexy scenes, and gave us this gift. Trying to deduce or explain the plot of this movie would be to rob it of some of it's odd, surreal magic. That, and the fact that I am not wholly sure myself what it is. Just to give a general idea, here's how things start. There is a car accident, which foils a potential murder of a young brunette. She then stumbles towards a house, where she encounters an aspiring actress, fresh from winning a jitterbug contest in Ontario, Canada. Meanwhile, there is a meeting of movie people to discuss the casting of a new film by a young hot director. Two mysterious moneymen, and one in a wheelchair, are in control of things and demand to have a certain actress play the role. Throw in a dream description involving a beast behind a diner, a slimy hit man and a prophetic well-spoken cowboy and I have still only scratched the surface. The significance, relevance and purpose of each of these things are for the viewer to discover. Things progress, digress, meld together, split apart and become more abstract as things become clearer. As usual, Lynch has assembled a varied and odd little cast of characters that make no sense, yet make perfect sense. In his universe, no matter how odd things are, they make sense. Lynch has repeatedly proven himself to be the master of melding dreams into reality, then interpreting them through his own obscure but powerful filter. Using characters, dialogue, symbolism and non-linear storytelling, he makes us not only question the possible, but to consider the impossible. He muddles the reality into a blurry haze akin to awakening from a dream and frantically grasping to retain pieces of what was, while becoming more aware of what actually is, spawning a commonality that is observant to the attentive, and foggy to the impatient.

I have said before about his films that I wonder if he even knows what they are about, or did he just throw some images, characters and dialogue on the screen, link it together somehow, and then let us figure it out. But now I feel that his films should be viewed as a work of abstract art. An artist creates a work, and has his view of what it means, but each person who views it, may see it differently. That doesn't make anyone right or wrong, just their impression and view of what they see. It's all in the imagination, Lynch unlocks the door, shows us in, then locks the door behind us, and we are his. Just us, and our minds to go on a loosely guided roller coaster ride through his version of reality. Lynch doesn't just twist reality; he turns it inside out, doubles it upon itself, ties it into a Windsor knot, and then warps it into another dimension. The key to the enjoyment of this film is if you let your mind go, and let him play with it. There are things that happen, or maybe they don't. There are people that are there, or maybe they aren't. To truly understand what I'm saying, you have to just see the film. Obviously, this isn't a film for everyone, because you will have to have your brain fully engaged, your imagination wide open, and your sense of believable occurrences turned off. In the hands of anyone else, Mulholland Drive would have been a jumbled train wreck, but in the right ones, as it is, it is a surreal journey and commentary on he Hollywood experience. Think Short Cuts on a really heavy dose of acid, viewed through kaleidoscope.

Well I see the way to go but there isn't any light/I don't know why I'm scared of the lightning/Trying to reach me/Help me to find what I don't wanna know/You're taking me there but I don't wanna go

Fans of his other films will revel in similarities to Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks and Lost Highway. Others will, and should, want to see more of these works to truly appreciate what you've seen. The difference between this and his other films which didn't work for me was that this one actually seem to have a purpose and a theme amidst the confusion. It builds suspense and grips the viewer in a stunned, yet curious state of entrancement. When the dust settles, things may not be any clearer then they were in the beginning, but at least we'll be able to generate our own sense of explanation, because he gives us all the tools to build our own analysis. It's a lesson he apparently learned with the mass confusion that abounded in Lost Highway. It's good to see him learning from his mistakes. Another part of this movie's magic lies in its twists and mysteries which will be hard to ruin for anyone who hasn't seen the film, since most viewers may not understand themselves, or which the descriptions will be lost in translation, and found only in the context of viewing the film. Another part of Lynch's magic: create something complex, that the mere analysis and mystery must be seen to be relevantly discerned.

You're readin' my mind you won't look in my eyes /You say I do things that I don't realize /You're lighting a scene that's faded to black/I threw it away cause I don't want it back

Here, as in past efforts like Blue Velvet, he has the knack and talent to enlist a cast of relative unknowns (a stunningly innocent, yet versatile Naomi Watts, who brings back memories of Janet Leigh in Psycho), obscures (yes, that was Billy Ray Cyrus) and near forgotten (Lee Grant and Ann Miller) and bring them all together in a near rhythmic, yet haunting harmony. Watts, and Laura Harring get the majority of the screen time and bond yet contrast each other in a way that is even visualized late in the film. Watts stands out, in retrospect, for her versatility, and emotional flexibility, which must be seen to be appreciated (and understood). This is not her first role, she appeared in the cult classic Tank Girl as well, but this will be the one that she is remembered, and hopefully recognized for in the future. As the conflicted, innocent (or not) Betty, she brings life to a role, and a movie, grasping for explanation and sense in a world that offers little of either very easily. Then there are veteran character actors Robert Forster and Dan Hedaya who appear and disappear as only people can in these kinds of films. Again, only something that a master of a mind game where he controls the rules, could do.

Ultimately, Mulholland Drive is David Lynch's hypnotic, mysterious, entrancing, brilliant walk on the wild side of Hollywood and life, that may confound, and confuse the unprepared, but is guaranteed to leave you talking and thinking afterwards. He has melded his pieces together into a twisted puzzle mixing everything from sensual love scenes, a philosophical cowboy, the color blue and a total mind boggle. Anything else wouldn't be him. Don't try to figure this one out, because there probably isn't a solid definable conclusion. If you want that, go see the other drivel littering the multiplexes. This is a cerebral film, not for the impatient or weak of heart, but for the true fans of the other side; that which we dream of and which sometimes melds together into our reality. There is a very blurry line between what we know, what we think, and what we dream. It's a line that Lynch has walked proudly, and taken us along with him through his career. Even in his most mainstream effort, The Straight Story, Lynch populated this simple tale of a man on a journey with trademark visuals but a surreal atmosphere of reality. Reality may not be all its cracked up to be, and we each define it differently. This is, and always has been, his purpose in films I believe. With Mulholland Drive, he has culminated all of his visceral madness into one complex, yet simplistic vision. Even if you don't "get" this film, enjoy it for its beauty, its double entendre foreshadowing dialogue (which if you pay attention, as you cannot help but do, will make things as clear as things can get in a Lynch film), its near perfect mood music (from the haunting score, to a powerful Spanish rendition of Roy Orbison's "Crying"), and most of all, its ability to inspire discussion and make you go "What was that!!?" when you leave the theater. If you do that, then Lynch has done his job, and his spell has worked.