Tyler Sanchez said:What do I know? Lynch was on an incredible upward trajectory from the late eighties through the mid-nineties—specifically looking at the relationship between Blue Velvet - Lost Highway—and everything he produced during that stretch was nothing short of flawless. He reached his absolute zenith with The Straight Story, where he demonstrated exactly what kind of director he is: a master. Then came Mulholland Drive, which was originally intended to be a series, but didn't quite make it... yet it turned out to be this unforgettable, chaotic mess that I rushed to see in theaters. It felt pointless, especially when people start claiming there are 19 different keys to unlocking the plot, supposedly hidden on the DVD extras... Honestly, thank you, but I have far more important things to do with my life. A film shouldn't be some complex gadget that requires an instruction manual just to function. Consequently, I find myself quite skeptical regarding the new Lynch, as it feels as though all this surrealism he employs is merely a way to flaunt his status rather than being true art. It isn't the art itself. Eraserhead is a masterpiece.
I’m with you there. There's something really interesting about watching a singular genius move through their own cognitive phases and evolutions. But when you say "upward trajectory," I think you're talking about him finding his own sense of purpose, his specific lens, his unique way of expressing things—all that stuff. *Eraserhead* is pure experimentalism, so it's naturally a bit rough around the edges. Even *Blue Velvet* feels somewhat raw (not that I'm saying that takes anything away from it, obviously). Now that you have a fully realized artist who doesn't feel the need to prove himself to anyone, someone working purely out of passion without all that external pressure, you get these kinds of tour de force works. *Inland Empire* shares so much DNA with *Mulholland Drive*... the Hollywood scene, the stars, the directors and producers, the behind-the-scenes drama, the rising stars and the ones forgotten. It's this gorgeous chaos, a mess of disorder... let me try to put that into English...
I actually just stumbled upon a great comment over on IMDb... it was incredibly concise and pretty much captured my exact feeling, though they managed to actually string it into coherent sentences:
Inland Empire is the Man with a Movie Camera of the 21st Century. It is the most experimental, surreal, and technically brilliant film I may have ever seen. Lynch proves that all he needs is a simple DV camera to show the world the entire range of human emotions and the human experience from the happiest to the darkest moments we must go through to achieve salvation and cleansing of the soul. This film is not so much about a particular story or narrative as it is about analyzing, exploring, and creating a visual palette for ideas about traveling to and from the past, present, and future as it relates to our constant journey back and forth into our own psyches and our collective unconscious. Each of Lynch's films explores the mind in terms of Jungian philosophy, focusing particularly on the shadow; however, Inland Empire goes further in this direction than any film previous to it. If Mulholland Drive was 25% a dark and surreal suspense thriller ghost story and journey into the nether regions of the mind and 75% classical, yet not necessarily structural or connected narrative, Inland Empire is 10% straight narrative and 90% raw psychological horror ghost story.
The journey is long and hard but at the end you will be rewarded with the kind of peace and serenity that can only come from a meditation this long, deep, and powerful. I was filled with only inner bliss as I left the theatre and slept like a baby, completely at peace. This is David Lynch's most powerful film and speaks volumes on the many unexplored topics of how this medium can communicate, terrify, and heal in ways we have not yet even begun to understand.
I see three distinct categories of cinema. First, there’s the standard fare we all know—beginning, middle, end. It’s the typical product churned out whether you're in the US, Europe, or Asia. The mold is always the same. Then you have the experimenters, where the most significant representative of the genre is Peter Greenaway. He argues that standard movies are essentially just "illustrated text," so he crafts these incredibly lush visual escapades disguised as high art. These standard films remind me of sitting in a train compartment, trying to make sense of the scenery passing by, but it’s impossible because the train is flying past; before your synapses can even fire, your station arrives and you're gone. Greenaway’s films feel somewhat similar, except it feels like the train is just idling and refuses to move. Not even a nudge. Not even God will move it. Then, right in the middle, there’s Mr. Lynch. With him, the train moves at a specific speed and rhythm where everything feels perfectly aligned. And the best part? You barely understand what's happening, yet you're enjoying it. You know you're having a good time, but you don't give a damn why. It doesn't matter. You're doing fine, and you don't want it to stop. You just want "your" station to cease to exist.
Inland Empire is everything Lynch is, and everything we've come to expect from him. And yet, it’s something totally new and bizarre. There is so much to process that I don't think I'll need to watch another movie for at least a year. Or so I thought. Because this film has it all—tragedy, drama, schizophrenia, psychedelia, comedy, and sketches. The way it manipulates montage, space, and time makes Memento look like child's play. It has horror, it has blood, and it has scenes that stay with you forever. Especially that first viewing.
There's really no point discussing the plot, because grasping it would probably require another three viewings and maybe twenty pages of debate on the forum. What actually fascinates me is how he manages to pull 200% out of every single character. And the dialogue... I don't want to sound like a snob, but I have to say... the guy was practically operating the camera himself (looking at the crew listing), and I already have the feeling I know which scenes he shot personally. And finally, the soundtrack is perfection, as usual.
brightmarlin44 said:Wondering where I can track down a copy of a screenplay—or honestly, even better, a script for a TV series? Also, just a quick side note... what exactly counts as a script versus a "film Treatment"? Thanks in advance for any help, I’m kind of on a deadline here.🙏
Scripts... I was digging through some old archives online today—found this table on an old script site—and it got me thinking about how much things have shifted. It’s one of those deep dives that starts with "just one quick look" and ends with you three hours deep into a rabbit hole, staring at a screen while your coffee goes cold. There’s something sort of nostalgic, maybe even a little melancholy, about looking at these old collections. It feels like digital archaeology. You see names and titles that used to carry so much weight, and then you realize how much the industry has changed since those days. It makes you wonder if we’re just building bigger digital graveyards every year. Anyway, I probably should have been doing something productive instead of wandering around the internet, but here we are. Just another late night spent chasing ghosts in the machine.
Film Treatment... So, I was falling down a bit of a rabbit hole online earlier—don't ask—and ended up reading about the whole concept of a film Treatment. It’s one of those things you assume everyone knows, but when you actually look into it, it’s kind of its own weird, specific beast. Basically, before you get into the nitty-gritty of a screenplay, you have this middle step. It isn't just a quick summary or a pitch; it's more like the blueprint. You’re laying out the narrative arc, the characters, and the general vibe without getting bogged down in the actual dialogue. It’s where the heavy lifting happens, I guess. You figure out if the story actually holds water before you spend months sweating over every line of script. It feels a bit like drafting an outline for a massive research paper or maybe a long-form article for something like *The New Yorker*. You need that structural integrity first. If the foundation is shaky, the whole thing collapses once you start adding the "fluff." I don't know. I’ve always been better at the messy, disorganized part of writing, so the idea of being this disciplined and methodical with a Treatment seems... daunting. A bit too much order for my chaotic brain. But I suppose that's why people do it. It keeps you from wandering off into the weeds too early. Or maybe it just gives you a more organized way to realize your idea is terrible? That's how I see it, anyway. Just a very structured way to fail.
ruggedmarlin15 basically just put into words the thoughts I was keeping tucked away in my brain. Honestly, I had such a blast at the Sundance Film Festival that I didn't really feel like being a rational human being for a while. When I say "hats off," I mean it—it's pure respect and I agree with about 80% of what the author wrote.
Fine.
From what I can gather by "reading" his comment, he’s mostly just belittling the "work and legacy" of Mr. Mirkovic by mocking media figures who don't mind letting their names be used for something actually useful. If I could do the same, why shouldn't I?
Beyond that, it feels like he’s just acting out of jealousy toward a crew that actually knows what they want and how to make it happen. And throwing shade at the attendees as an "argument" for the Festival being soulless? That's just cheap.
And finally, to be fair, now the issue is that tax dollars from "regional" taxpayers are being spent by a crew from some other "region." All I can say to that is—go ahead, act like a big shot, organize a rival festival, and you'll probably end up getting twice as much funding. It's ridiculous.
The whole thing reads like a blatant attack on a few capable people who actually know how to do their jobs and build something from nothing. Pretty shameful for someone calling themselves a progressive. 👎
Michael Mann is a director with a very distinct, recognizable body of work. It means that within just five minutes of any of his movies, you can pretty much tell who’s behind the camera... which basically translates to... stunning cinematography, aggressive close-ups, heavily choreographed shootouts, and those ultra-cool performances from the cast.
As for the story... well, the idea that all these stylistic elements should stick together like glue on a craft project... that’s more of a secondary concern for Mr. Mann. Unfortunately, this film lacks that killer narrative concept found in Heat... specifically... Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner. That whole premise where private life gets tangled up with the job: undercover is handled so banally that it's hard to swallow (unlike a study like Donnie Brasco). I mean... if one of the two main characters had a corporate motto, it would probably be we thought of everything because, as the character says in the movie, i dont like them - they are too god, making a fatal mistake that spins the plot toward something totally predictable.
I say unfortunately because the other parts of the film are actually quite well done. Plus, the atmosphere is bolstered by the fact that nearly two-thirds of the movie—just like his previous stuff—takes place at night, set against a backdrop ripped straight from some high-end luxury travel guide. You spend half the time wondering when Tom Cruise is going to show up... also, while the villains in this flick look dangerous enough... you don't really get the sense that they actually *are* dangerous (not like in Scarface, where that was totally convincing).
I remember this guy who used to "kiss" the grand welcomes of the Relay with the exact same level of disdain—whether they were local affairs made of wood and cardboard or those big federal parades with all the flags and landing ceremonies. He always found a way to make the whole spectacle feel repulsive to me. Honestly, it made me frustrated too, watching all those idiots running around, with those mindless followers trailing behind whoever was carrying the torch, followed by that line of pioneers and veterans marching toward the ceremony where the ruling elite would elevate the whole thing to some epic scale. Later, after the "democratic" shifts, I ran into him again. He’d aged a bit, lost some hair, and was just as bitter as ever. After two double whiskeys, we hit a snag because he actually didn't remember me, so just to refresh his memory, he spent ten minutes reciting his entire life story. That's just what happens when you run into someone from "back in the day." And then he tells me he hasn't gotten anywhere in life because "they" still have all the perks while he has nothing. After an awkward silence and another round, I tried to win him over a bit by reminding him of his own scathing critiques of the Relay, hoping he’d catch my drift—that I was complimenting him for having seen through the whole charade before any of us did, and how it’s now clear to me that those Relays were just part of the massive illusion built by the old system. He just stared at me for a few seconds and said, "What are you talking about?" Another unbearable silence. By the fourth drink, he just walked off. Then, out of nowhere, he looks back at me one last time and says, "Man, imagine if I had at least been the one to hand over a local Relay!" And that was it. He was gone.
PB... I think it’s pretty obvious I haven’t actually sat through a single movie from Cannes 2006... but Andrew over at salon.com just has this way of making you feel like you’re actually watching the film, and honestly, I trust him 😉. Or you've got Manohla Dargis from The New York Times saying but Ms. Coppola's period film, which is playing in competition, conceives of her as something of a poor little rich girl, a kind of Paris Hilton of The House of Windsor.
Now... that's 😂 just my take 😳
As for a Pedro... yeah... I didn't even finish one single movie because everything just starts feeling so pointless halfway through that I end up turning it off... though, I guess that doesn't stop me from offering my own perspective.
But seriously... I tried to sit through it and I just can't... it's impossible. I remember his matador... and back in the DMs... he popped up right when I was totally obsessed with Kristof... so I'm confused... Pedro, you're really testing me here... and then Atam... man... that whole era was such a comedy to me... and then kika... jeez... 🤣
Then there’s this run of movies I watched while living abroad... Hable con ella... Todo sobre mi madre... and then mali educacion... unfortunately, I think I’ve been psychologically "operated on" by those films... that Spanish style of over-the-top melodrama where everything just blurs together... all these characters feel like they could easily wander from one movie straight into another... it’s all very Freudian and twisted in a great way... bordering on psychotic at times, but not in a subtle way—more like it's just "too much"—yet somehow it still feels 'human'... I guess I just don't have the temperament for those kinds of setups... and sadly, I have to say it again... I just don't like Mr. Pedar's movies. 😳
-- Babel by Alejandro González Iñárritu From what I can gather, the movie should be pretty watchable, I guess... though, honestly, I found an interview he gave more interesting.
-- Flanders by Bruno Dumont So, I'm reading that this Dumont guy is quite the big deal in France... haven't actually seen anything of his... this film, much like several others this year, seems less about the war in Iraq and more about the whole concept of 'being right.' Because when you think you're right, you feel like you can do whatever you want, since... well, whatever you do... you're right. Just like...
-- The Wind that Shakes the Barley by Ken Loach Because, you know, the defeated and the downtrodden, all they have left is to make a good movie or write some good literature. Personally, I'd rather just live a decent life in reality instead of hunting for the meaning of life within some abstract idea of living. But, it is what it is...
-- Southland Tales Looking at the review on salon.com, it feels like Andrew O'Hehir might have overshot a bit... expectations were massive after the success of Donnie Darko.
-- Volver by Pedro Almodóvar I have to humbly admit, I haven't sat through a single one of his films from start to finish. 🙄 😎
"Film criticism is basically just a playground for explaining one's own worldview," they told me. Personally? I think that’s nonsense. I don't even feel the need to justify my stance, but if you want anyone to actually take your opinion seriously, you kind of "have" to explain yourself first.
Since my thoughts lean pretty close to what the quoted author is getting at...
Film is an artistic medium that hits the cognitive system in its "purest" form. It’s this continuous stream of visual and audio stimuli that doesn't really handle any "lag" during processing. When I say purest, I mean the fact that space and time are synced up to such a degree—assuming we're talking about decent craftsmanship, obviously. The opposite extreme here is Ed Wood. In a well-made film, there shouldn't be any heavy lifting required by the brain to process the info. Also, movies are incredibly dense with information, so any "lag" in processing breaks the flow; your brain ends up struggling just to catch up with what's happening. Like, if you step out of the theater for ten minutes and come back... it takes a moment to settle in, or you just give up entirely. You get the same effect if a movie is just poorly made.
I guess you could look at it like a model of fertilization, where millions of tiny little sperm cells (the information a film provides) are racing toward the uterus (the worldview). Only one can succeed, so by that parallel, a film is "good." If the result is twins, it's a classic. Anything above that is just pure cinematic genius. Not to go off on a tangent about in-vitro filmmaking, though. Most attempts at fertilization end up being just plain sex—whether because of condoms or birth control... in movies, we just call that entertainment. Anyway, back to the point...
So, this specific sequence of information within a set context (liberal, misanthrope, jerk, idiot, madman...) produces different interpretive models for everyone—basically, different ideas of what the director was trying to say. The more accessible that concept is, the more people will find the film appealing. The more complex the concept is (not necessarily "lower," mind you), the smaller the audience that will consider it good. And that brings us to the "worldview" embedded in the film's concept. That's why "reviews"—which aren't really dry treatises following a rigid structure, but more like intimate windows into someone's personal philosophy—exist. The film tries to install itself like an essay, because that worldview is attempting to interpret symbols and their relationships. To me, any explanation of that is essentially a literary work in itself.
I find reading those kinds of "reviews" fascinating—especially for films that actually touched me somehow. That kind of relationship with cinema is almost confessional. The film acts as a catalyst where a person's internal worldview can be brought to such a level of clarity that it becomes possible to actually put it into coherent words. There's huge value in that, because very few of us truly understand our own worldview, and even those who do usually struggle to describe it.
Not to mention the ones who went crazy after having that realization. Or worse.
Deconstructing American cinema in just two sentences. Absolutely brilliant. 👍 And that’s just a casual side note about being a selector for the Tribeca Film Festival. Quite the reach, wouldn't you say? 😬
The question was simple: what did you think of the movie? Was it actually good? Any decent dialogue? Just looking for the "big picture" (pun intended), rather than recycling the usual routine of complaining about cinematography standards in Hollywood. I mean, we all know by now that nobody in America can shoot a film quite like the crew on this subforum. In marketing terms, it's called "message saturation" 😉 ... you know, the whole thing!
Let's try something different for once. Let's actually find something positive—something that might actually inspire someone out there to pursue filmmaking or write a script. It feels incredibly arrogant (though entirely expected) and, honestly, pretty rude to dismiss this director as nothing more than some amateur kid. Like, hello people... 🙄
Read this morning that the movie is part of the official lineup at the Tribeca Film Festival. The info is pretty vague, though. I caught the trailer—you know, that one scene with the beer that follows the usual tropes 😁
I also noticed it played at the Aspen Filmfest last year and actually picked up a Best Screenplay award... so now I’m wondering if anyone here has actually sat through it? Any thoughts or ratings?
By the way... a movie featuring Turks, Prince Miloš, and Bora Djordjevic—plus lines like "I swear on my mother, I wasn't smoking!"—doesn't actually need any special effects at all.
If you ask me, unnamed US actor and unnamed US director are really the only ones who truly understood directing... their movies aren't recognizable because of the specific themes or the plots, but rather because of the sheer way they actually put a film together...
It feels like he landed some gig at a local newspaper and now he's just spinning his wheels, totally lost on what to actually write.
Judging by the titles of the movies he's checking out, we're talking about a seriously popular publication... though, I guess I shouldn't jump to conclusions quite yet. 😁
Lawrence Booth2... you're a legend... but seriously, what's the end goal here? I mean... just wondering... are you aiming to become a critic or actually get into filmmaking?