Review of Inland Empire (2006) by Ville H — 16 Mar 2011

To me, the reactions to David Lynch's "Inland Empire" are as perplexing as this "movie" at first seems to be. Many viewers are baffled and disgusted, while others are baffled and delighted. Both of these reactions are absurd because I've fortunately discovered that, in fact, there's actually very little that's baffling about it. Yes, at first attempt I found it to be a cryptic, disturbing, slyly impenetrable hoax. Just a grand, vague, surreal rant on the utter meaningless of our vain, mad, brutal culture. But then I soon discovered that I was wrong, completely wrong. I have found that hidden within its intimidating facade of incomprehensible paranoia lives a very rational narrative, a genuine old time tale. There's a "trick", a "key" to finding it, this concealed story. And, it turns out, both the insidiously clever "key" into this camouflaged realm, and the shatteringly powerful experience that awaits you there are revelatory marvels of cinematic magic. It just so happens that the movie you then encounter there is a grand, vague, surreal rant on the utter meaningless of our vain, mad, brutal life, but that's a secondary, almost minor thing. There's something else, something so much more impressive going on in there.

Viewers are so bewildered, it turns out, because this story does not adhere to our traditional notions of time. In David Lynch's experience, events that occur now, yesterday, tomorrow, 50 years ago, or 5 minutes from now are all shown equal respect. Time, as our western culture has chosen to define it, has proven itself to be irrelevant in terms of how we actually process our experiences, of how we perceive reality. Past events - triumphs and traumas - can deeply effect us and be relived and experienced again and again, far into the future, and even generations later. Events don't just happen once and vanish. They persist and reoccur, altering our experience of present and future moments. Similarly, the dread or terror or even hope of future events can effect and distort our present day experiences. It's a condition that seems to invert the law of cause and effect, where effect precedes a future cause.

The process by which we interact with the "external" world is equally complex. In life we are assaulted continually, from all sides, 360 degrees, with all our senses, by an infinite array of stimuli. It's too much for our minds to process all at once, so mentally there's an instinctual ordering, a prioritizing of these infinite discreet sensations into a coherent, whole "real" experience. We are selecting and editing, in a very mysterious way, these incoming stimuli. We may even be conscious of our awareness shifting from sound to sound, smell to smell, drifting in and out of focus from one sense to another, as we concentrate on separate elements of our "experience." We are continually reconsidering in our minds the information, sensations and emotions of a particular moment or event during and immediately after its occurrence. Sometimes very long after. In reconsidering, reexamining these numerous moments - ordering and reordering them as our psyches see fit - we form for ourselves a sensory experience of time. This process is continual and imperceptible. The infinite bits and fragments that make up our perceived reality are mentally joined like an extremely complex connect-the-dots picture or web to form a near seamless image of reality. Thus, we create mental "models" of our universe which we then depend on to navigate through the external world as we perceive it to be. This mental construction is how we truly experience space and time. The fact that conventional "time" is marked linearly, as a single straight unidirectional arrow, only masks and denies the truth of how these life moments are truly experienced. And experiences are the vital currency of Lynch's work. His nonlinear, democratic, more natural handling of time may be an alien, non-western posture, but it's not a conceit or a stunt. It's David's genuine acknowledgment of the nature of how we experience reality, and likewise a formidably effective means of recreating and marveling at the phenomenon of consciousness. And it's only from this posture, this attitude, this awareness that we are able to fully join with, or grok that elusive but tremendous force that dwells behind, beneath, around, and within the mysteries that constitute this misunderstood film.

Don't be intimidated by all the talk of it's confounding irrationality or "dream logic." Don't be so hypnotized by Lynch's trademark vertiginous rhythms, lurid environments and superhuman characters. The trick or "key" to experiencing the unfolding fable hinges on our assuming the precisely correct "point of view." We are explicitly ordered to do this by characters in the "film" at the very beginning. It's a subtle, perhaps confusing way which David, through the seemingly mad words of his characters, instructs us on how to approach his film. And you probably won't grasp it the first time you watch it. You'll be confounded, bewildered, and deranged trying to force your way in. Or you'll just quit on it like I nearly did and so many others have. Unfortunately, for too many people, it's just so easy to reject things that aren't easily, instantly accessible. It may seem to be an excessively elaborate and arrogant demand to make of his audience, requiring us to perform such a curious mental routine, but it seems there's just no better way to get us "on line". What I'm saying is, by submitting to his subtle initiation you are making yourself psychically available for a very profound, unique, intense experience. At first I was irritated with its reliance on what I felt was a cheap gimmick - the old "entry hidden in plain sight." I soon understood and accepted that David had engineered a precise means by which to capture and direct my awareness, expertly manipulating my mind to a precise position, cultivating my psyche into an open, fertile condition where it is receptive to new visions. And indeed, David then reveals a genuinely sincere truth that is devastating in its impact. It's hard to overstate the clarity, the certainty, the profundity, the hideous beauty of David's revelation. It's an experience that flows at you, around you, past you, and through you, like the most intense 3D of the mind. Ultra Turbo Psycho 3D.

This process of preparation and then insemination of the receptive human psyche is a lost function of art. It's the fundamental shamanistic role that art once played in society. It's the secret of the magical power of ritual. It is art in the service of its community, it's the definition of culture. Often you first must struggle to gain entry into the arena, and once there you then must remain alert, focused, and aware in order to succeed, and even survive. David has erected hazards and attractions to keep us properly oriented, so that we aren't too confused. His true pure intent is to share with us his insight into - his exact view of - an aspect of the fundamental nature of our society. He is having us not just see through his eyes, but more amazingly, experience a "moment" through his whole being. We are experiencing him as he dissects the collective consciousness which shapes our society.

Normally, to dissect a living entity you must kill it. Murder it. Very high stakes. Usually, compulsively, savagely, unknowingly we sacrifice that which we are so possessed by. The trick, the answer, the "way" to understanding, to knowing, to experiencing - without destroying - the objects of our focus is to simply accept them. Our actions towards them moves them away. Even our most exquisitely refined tools and techniques obliterate them. That's quantum science just now catching up to ancient Eastern truth. That's where this film shares some wonderful ground with the Coen Brother's "A Serious Man." That film, too, is a mature, sincere attempt to make visible that which is ominously concealed. It's no coincidence that "A Serious Man's" Larry Gopnick bares more than a passing resemblance to "Eraserhead's" frizzy haired, befuddled Henry Spencer. It's a curious journey the Coens have mapped out in "A Serious Man", but it doesn't reach anywhere near the treacherous depths that "Inland Empire" plunges. Not remotely. In truth, the Coens have regularly neglected to confront the deeper, more grotesquely horrendous demons that stand guard over the elusive insights that summon David Lynch.

This insight - his vision - being shared through the contorted lens of "Inland Empire" is perhaps the most perplexing entity I've ever encountered. It somehow reveals itself as something so shockingly familiar and also monstrously alien. Apparently, that's the nature of any worthwhile revelation. This one absolutely is worthwhile. It's a vital, critical, undeniable, overdue, and perhaps life shaping insight. And the fact of David's having been so committed to delivering it to us so artfully, graciously, humbly qualifies his gesture as an act of humanitarianism (you will understand when we "see" it). And once you encounter the awesome universality of its implications, and the honest, innocent intent of the man who shepherded it into our consciousness, you too will be humbled (or at least very impressed). This is the great value of the creative process; the process by which humanity imagines its potential. This is why true artists are so revered in enlightened societies.

Sound lofty and pretentious and even touched, don't I? Well, let me be clear: If you are doubting my claim that this film has within it one of the greatest cultural treasures, one of the most sharply observed visions of modern times, then you are depriving yourself of one of cinema's, art's, life's more transcendent moments. The thing is, I really can't tell you precisely how to unlock, or reveal, or heed David's simple instruction of how to "enter" his world. He has informed us where and how to look, as clearly as is possible, by way of that living room conversation between Nikki and her peculiar "new neighbor." I'm almost certain that I can't say explicitly the thing I'm suggesting because I had come upon it all on my own, alone. And it's apparently unavoidable that discovering the "way" into this journey for yourself is essential, indispensable to experiencing this film's magic. I would hate to be the one to deprive anyone of this astounding experience, and I suspect I may have given away too much already. But based on the morass of confusion that is this film's comment history, I think my suggesting a location to pay attention may only be a very minor betrayal of David's confidence. So keep trying, you'll know it when you've got it. This adventure is very quick to reward you if you embark upon its true trail. Once there David has provided unmistakable reassurances that you are on the right path.

I didn't get it right away, and was confused, frustrated and pissed off. In the past I had been somewhat confounded by aspects of other Lynch productions but this one had me unusually bewildered and suspicious. So after 90 minutes I stopped the Divx player, and just pondered and wrestled with the knotted visions pulsating in my throbbing cube. After some time I reset the story to the beginning and watched again, acutely intent on spotting anything that might serve as a clue. My diligence was soon rewarded during that early scene when the foreign "neighbor" makes a very curious, seemingly nonsensical statement about time. I paused there and meditated on this concept that she espoused and a notion soon flashed into my consciousness. Then I became aware of a very definite shifting, a repositioning of my perspective - a refocusing of my awareness. Now, equipped with the fresh eyes that this transforming awareness provided me, I resumed the story, and then began to experience a very different reality. It was revelatory. I quickly understood that this film - and this life - can be an extremely startling, terrifying, confusing journey because I am threatened and confused by the chaos of the images and words and sounds hurling at me. But, through my adjusted awareness, that allows the oncoming parade of macabre sounds and visions to assemble themselves into a more cogent, rational, lucid order that supersedes perceived reality, my response to these incoming sensations is even more startling, terrifying and exhilarating, but so much less confusing. Confusion is only a very minor ingredient in creating the terror that this film illicits. This is the paradox of its method. It can only achieve the shattering clarity of its vision by way of vague, impossible, unspeakable methods. The sound of one hand clapping. It seems David may have fully intended us to be initially baffled and contemptuous, or baffled and falsely satisfied, so that if and when we may chance upon the modest portal "inward", our new found experience would be all that more magical. It was for me. Maybe that's why I'm raving about this remarkable "experience" like a boy just discovering girls.

David Lynch has devoted his life to constructing a parallel universe where we may more confidently, ably explore life's ominous mysteries. In our real lives these mysteries, when first encountered, almost always appear sinister, threatening, terrifying. These mysteries therefor repulse us and have us retreat into shallow, puny, destructive lives. It's only after we openly accept the deeply sinister, threatening, terrifying aspects of reality that life opens itself up to us - explosively, eternally, in revelatory fashions. This is an awareness that's been described in various forms throughout my readings on the nature of human consciousness. This is, I believe, an awareness that David has been coolly, keenly guided by for his entire career. Now he has, it seems, begun to recognize a more valuable, rewarding purpose for his gifts. What previously he seemed to have done for the delight and distraction of his fellow life passengers, now has assumed a more "sacred" value. He has become, as the ancient ways describe, a teacher. As a practitioner of Transcendental Meditation for the past 37 years, he has decided to transfer his wisdom, his experience to the masses. I'm not sure if he is yet a master, as I'm ignorant as to what qualifies one as such, but I do know that the vision imparted to me by "Inland Empire" is one of the most powerfully effecting I've ever experienced. And it's all the more spectacular because it was accomplished without the benefit of chemical assistance (drugs or alcohol) or intense physiological trauma (a bonk on the head).

The traditional herbs, roots, fungi, potions, elixirs, rituals, invocations, mantras, summonings, ceremonies, sacrifices, flagellations, denials, abstainings, indulgences, pageants, propaganda, educations, indoctrinations, morals, principles, beliefs, philosophies, convictions and doubts that have historically served as the routes to higher consciousness are here replaced by David's cinematic method. The revolutionary thing about David's method is that it has completely co-opted, subverted, reforged cinema's and tv's and webcast's and painting's and music's vigorously distracting role into one with a more essential, worthwhile, nurturing value for our society. Rather than let us be diverted from, retreating from the formidable terrors and agonies of reality, which is what entertainment and cinema historically has done, David has exploited cinema's powerful capacity to affect consciousness and harnessed it in the service of directing us towards a more healthy reality. By entirely deconstructing the elements of western cinema, David has encoun.