Jessica Nguyen85 said: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.
Phenomenal and genius. I guess...
I just watched the film last night. It’s a ride on a dangerous, psychedelic, brutally honest, and broken train—a journey where you truly don't want "your" station to arrive.
I second your entire post.
Speaking of which, the actual plot isn't really the point.
To me, there are four main thematic and symbolic pillars in the film:
1. The dislocation and timelessness of the inner world—diving deep into one's own traumatic psychological web while "acting" (Laura Dern)
2. The question of the third party and betrayal (there is always someone trapped watching those who deceive them, and vice versa; those doing the deceiving are always aware they are being watched)
3. The layers of framing within the story (theater, film, acting in real life versus observation) and the masked nature of the story's origin (the rabbits)
4. Women, and the killing of the "untouchable man in the light" who becomes a woman; women serving as a metaphor for the source of the loop and the curse.
It's all jumbled into a whirlwind of schizophrenic shots without any sense of temporal or narrative order, much like our own inner kingdoms. Actually, the core idea (if we can even call it an idea) is precisely that diving into any story is a CURSE that leads you straight into the sprawling palace of your own inner kingdom. Beautiful and intense.
Of course, I've only seen it once, and I'll probably find a billion more ideas I missed during my next viewings.
And Laura Dern gave a career-defining performance.
