Ok. I do not actually do movie reviews. But I am making an exception for those so unfortunate as to fall into the World of David Lynch. Here is your warning.
David Lynch’s latest movie (and I most certainly use this term loosely) Inland Empire is an utter mess.
Inland Empire is an amalgam of all the Lynchisms ever cast on celluloid.
And unless you knew this already, Lynch is the ultimate trickster – using obvious visual metaphors and simple stories to create the illusion of complexity and plot.
Inland Empire has no plot. There is no story. It is one manipulative juxtaposition after another – woven like a spider on LSD.
Inland Empire has it all; Dark corridors. Men and Women in rabbit suits. Dark language speaking gypsy freaks. Simple dialog repeated – delivered in circles. More dark corridors. More blood. Bare breasts. Heck, there is even a monkey.
Bottom line – if you are thinking of spending some money to see this movie. Do yourself a favor. Give the money to a stranger or street person. Or visit a bar on the wrong side of town. Walk up to a prostitute and offer her (or him) 50$ to take the night off. Anything. Just don’t see this movie.
David Lynch’s Inland Empire is film-making proof that the man that brought us Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart and heck, even Dune has lost his marbles.
Colin Newell lives in Victoria and writes about pop culture, the arts, politics and Western Living. His only hope is that he is never forced to see a movie this bad… ever again.