From Dreams to Reality:
An Analysis of Mulholland Drive as Art Cinema
David Lynch spins an elaborate web of confusing stories that seem on the surface to be unconnected in his 2001 film, Mulholland Drive. The film opens with a surreal Dali-esque dance sequence in which one of the central characters, “Betty,” played by Naomi Watts, wins a Jitterbug contest. A complex story ensues; an attempted hit on a brunette woman, played by Laura Elena Harring, fails and she loses her memory as a result of a car accident on Mulholland Drive. Already, the movie has broken the limits set by the classic Hollywood cinema model. It skips from scene to scene with nonsensical fluidity. It is not a movie that is designed to be understood – it does not have a coherent structure or clearly defined characters. In the tradition of classic film noir, like Sunset Boulevard, it addresses the broken dreams of Hollywood hopefuls, and the disillusionment and denial that often accompany them. Many critics and audiences have interpreted the film as a series of dreams that appear to connect but do not, or as a fantastical web of the surreal with no tangible storyline or chronology. But this paper will argue that Mulholland Drive, while confusing, does have a storyline typical of art cinema; it is cause and effect within a psychological context.
In favor of those who do believe the film is a fantastical web of surrealism without any trace of reality, one could say that the fantasies of Diane Selwyn represent a multitude of psychological reactions, triggered by the events in her life, that she contains in her subconscious. There is no one explanation for the disjointed images and sequences she projects as her reality for the first two thirds of the film. Film-critic Roger Ebert interprets the film as a series of random dreams that seem almost as though they could connect to one another, so as to keep the viewer interested, but in the end, they do not. “Individual scenes play well by themselves, as they do in dreams, but they don’t connect in a way that makes sense–again, like dreams. The way you know the movie is over is that it ends” (www.rogerebert.com).
This film is a perfect example of art cinema because it skews the line between reality and surrealism, and it possesses the sort of ambiguity characterized by Bordwell’s examples of art cinema. The characters are psychologically complex, and the scenes are composed in such a way that throws the viewer off guard; even the brightly lit shots are sinister and menacing. Art cinema is about challenging norms and breaking the mold. Elements of film noir and mafia gangster movies combine and clash with Hitchcockian drama and 70’s style TV shows. Mulholland Drive is especially unique because of the unorthodox romance that develops between the two main women. Their relationship is elusive and dark, but Lynch makes no attempt to keep anything from the audience. The film is an enigma and by the end, we begin to question every aspect of it. Which of the characters were real, and which of them were projections and illusions? At what point did the reality dissipate and the fantasy begin? At the end, we are not given any answers or resolution, only a mysterious word, “Silencio,” delivered by a strange blue-haired woman with no apparent connection to the rest of the story. It is as if she is saying, “I know that you are confused, and that you have questions, but before you ask, take a minute of silence to let everything sink in.”
The idea of authorial expressivity is evident throughout the film. Lynch, like Hitchcock did in many of his films, marked the movie with his very specific motifs and artistic direction. He made the film his own by crossing those lines and breaking the mold, and instead of being discarded as a “cult film” like those of Terry Gilliam and John Waters, Mulholland Drive was elegant, believable, and stylish and despite its convoluted plot, it demands respect and earned Lynch an Oscar for his direction. Simple aspects of the film, like the sporadic focus changes and the occasional hand-held look of the camera are very distinctive of authorial expressivity. The film is tragic and dark, but also suspenseful and sensual. Lynch’s other films, like Twin Peaks and Blue Velvet, were less than well received. Audiences were not ready to open their minds to his unusual artistic expressionism. What made Mulholland Drive stand apart? Perhaps it was that Lynch drew on his own experiences, and merged his characters with true emotions and feelings. While his other films were more removed from the real world, Mulholland Drive remains tangible throughout, and the characters are relatable. “The dissection of feelings is often represented explicitly as therapy and cure, but even when it is not, the forward flow of causation is braked and characters pause to seek the aetiology of their feelings” (Bordwell 96). The mind is so much more powerful than many people believe it to be, and Lynch plays upon its power in this film. The surreal idealistic tendencies of the film invoke sympathy, especially for the character of Diane, who loses the woman she loves and then suffers incredible guilt when she has her murdered. Feelings of heartbreak and guilt become the character and those moments serve as an Alice Through the Looking Glass –style mirror that depicts an alternate reality through which our true feelings and darkest emotions are projected.
One could look at this film as a series of cause-and-effect dramas, but reversed, so that the effects come first and the causes provide the mystery. Bordwell says, “The art cinema is less concerned with action than with reaction; it is a cinema of psychological effects in search of their causes” (Bordwell 96). First, we see what can only be described as a surreal dream-like projection that is the result of Diane Selwyn’s mental breakdown and subsequent suicide. Then, the real story unravels once the blue box is opened. The blue box represents reality, it represents Camilla Rhodes’ death, but it is also Diane’s nightmare. On a very basic level, Diane’s and Camilla’s failed relationship is the cause, and their deaths are the result.
The film is a perfect example of Bordwell’s description of the “illusion/reality dichotomy” (Bordwell 97). It must be read according to the psychological subjectivity and manipulations of time and reality that are trademarks of art cinema. Bordwell identifies how art cinema is difficult to follow in terms of its spatial and temporal construction. In his critique of the film, Ebert, in following with the idea of how to understand or read the film, urges the viewer to approach it as though it were all a dream. “Like real dreams, it does not explain, does not complete its sequences, lingers over what it finds fascinating, dismisses unpromising plotlines. If you want an explanation for the last half hour of the film, think of it as the dreamer rising slowly to consciousness, as threads from the dream fight for space with recent memories from real life, and with fragments of other dreams–old ones and those still in development” (www.rogerebert.com). If we choose to agree that the entire film is a series of dream sequences that intentionally do not make any real sense, we give up the right to ask questions, to interpret, and to speculate. Yes, it remains an artistic film, but the reason it is so compelling is that it does connect, in a way. It is difficult to see, and might require multiple viewings, but there is a solid story that has a valid chronology. There is no denying that some of the film is dream or fantasy, but one can easily argue that the pieces can be put together to produce a convoluted but comprehensible story. If we go by Bordwell’s “reading procedure,” we are able to view the movie as an expression of its creator. In this case, David Lynch is the creator and Mulholland Drive is a work that expresses an aspect of his creativity. Because of that simple fact, we cannot simply say that the whole thing is a pointless series of dreams.
It is difficult to categorize Mulholland Drive into a specific genre. It borrows elements from a plethora of genres and then contorts them into unrecognizable themes and characters. The various textures represent the dichotomy of fantasy and reality. The mysterious cowboy character represents the Western. Naomi Watts as the sweet, innocent Hollywood hopeful and Laura Elena Harring as the amnesiac car accident victim are characters straight out of a Hitchcock mystery or a Billy Wilder film noir. The big shots who are working on the film project are mafia crooks, from a mediocre crime piece. They converge and the result is art cinema, a genre that contains all genres.
Some will call it a cult film, others a masterpiece. It is controversial and ambiguous. But that ambiguity is what makes it so appealing and captivating. When the blue-haired lady says, “Silencio,” and the film ends, we are plunged into our own reality, and because we have been brought up on conventional Hollywood cinema, we will do whatever it takes to make sense of the film. One will interpret its “clues” and label the blue box and the money and the name tag as important representations within Diane’s mind… and then, when the clear answer does not materialize, one will assume that the film did not intend to make any sense, that none of the “clues” or elements had any meaning whatsoever, and that there is no connection between the various stories. While that is a possibility, it severely limits the other many options that Lynch could have been striving to depict in this film.
Watching the film requires the viewer to think outside the box, to surrender to the surreal situations and complex psychological content. Afterwards, one can begin to interpret the film. The film is incredible because it possesses a timeless quality. It is a moment in an alternate reality, where simple concepts like time and space become meaningless. It is a dreamlike story of the surreal, and at the same time it is a story with a very compelling narrative. It is possible to interpret, but no one answer will ever be deemed correct, even, perhaps, by the creator himself.
Tags: art cinema, david lynch, laura elena harring, mulholland drive, naomi watts