Properly Screened

This was my second time watching this film and I remained unmoved. It's often described as surreal neo-noir, an exploration of the dark side of suburban America, and I can see that: white picket fences, manicured lawns, but something rotten hiding just underneath. I just don't connect with it. What felt shocking or transgressive in 1986 has been escalated by decades of films since. I dunno.  But seeing it in a theater was a different experience than watching it at home. Without the option to fast-forward through the rape and abuse scenes, Frank was even more repulsive. I also noticed details I’d missed before, especially how alive the opening blue velvet curtains felt. They don’t just act as background for the title sequence text; they move as if they’re breathing. I was also grateful to see it on 35mm, and not a pristine print. The grit and texture suited the film, a reminder that celluloid is physical and imperfect. Maybe it’s because I’ve been revisiting a lot of Hitchcock l...

Since its release, this film has left audiences perplexed. Myself included. It’s often cited as the best film of the twenty-first century, a reputation that somehow coexists with the fact that most viewers don’t fully understand what the hell they just watched. Mulholland Drive (2001) is meant to be felt not understood. I saw this as part of 4-Star Theater's celebration of David Lynch's birthday with a friend who had never seen the film. I failed to warn her that this was a two-and-a-half hour fever dream. In hindsight, that omission was very Lynchian. Lynch was notoriously cagey about explaining his work, leaving viewers to interpret what the film was about. But the generally accepted reading of the plot is Diane Selwyn is an aspiring actress who comes to Los Angeles after winning a jitterbug contest and receiving an inheritance from her aunt. She falls in love with another actress, Camilla, who ultimately betrays her by sleeping with the director of the film they are working...

  I'm not sure why one Sunday afternoon in January I wanted to watch Eraserhead (1977). David Lynch wasn't much part of my consciousness, beyond renting  Mulholland Drive  on DVD from Netflix back in college. Perhaps my interest was sparked by the recent media coverage of Lynch's passing. No matter. I knew exactly who to ask. My friend Matthew noted that I probably wasn't going to like the film, but if I was going to watch it, I'd better turn the sound up. Way up.  Below is our text exchange during my initial viewing, which is not thoughtful or informed. But it takes me back to the feeling of seeing a piece of art I've grown to love for the first time. Me: "We are four seconds in and the sound is already scaring me. I also have a feeling this is low budget... based on David using a meatball as a planet." Matthew: "It's Lynch's first film. He spent five years and his own money making it. And, very early into the film, Henry gets into an el...