Hipster hype.

Rating: Null/10 (29 September 2016)

I had this film sitting on my waiting list for many years. Somehow I just didn't come round to it until now. Could it be because everything Lynch did since the 80s sucks? That had a lot to do with it, for sure. I am never in a rush to watch a Lynch movie, despite the fact that there is definitely an element of so-bad-it's-good about all his movies starting from "Blue Velvet" onwards. (How I laughed at Laura Dern crying in that movie! I blew snot out of my nose watching Hopper sniff on his little gas-mask. Not to mention the pretentious yet hilarious nonsense this vastly overrated "auteur" dumped at us in his subsequent movies. Damn, "Lost Highway" is like a mindless Twilight Zone episode without rhyme or reason, and "Wild At Heart" must be the worst-cast idiotic movie of all time: Dern and Cage? Yes, Lynch must be a genius, sort of the way Ed Wood was a genius.)
OK, so the movie has an "it-was-all-a-dream" plot-twist, a very CONVENIENT scapegoat twist that Lynch was forced to hijack in order not to end up with another mess such as "Lost Highway" which sets up a mystery but then doesn't wrap it up in any way, shape or form, toddling along instead aimlessly and so very stupidly. The first 90 minutes appear to be Lynch aping Tarantino and other younger directors with yet another fashionable broken-story plot. Then, suddenly - as I knew would happen - the plot completely disintegrates, abandons its broken-story format, and goes all-Lynchian on our ass.
The hugely unoriginal it-was-all-a-dream/fantasy plot-twist can only impress people who've never seen one, and mindless hipsters who worship big-name "auteurs", willing to forgive any nonsense (or be in willful denial about it) just because their reputation is so untouchable. Saying/admitting you dislike a Lynch movie is the equivalent to saying that Picasso did scribbles or that you don't understand Pollock. It's that kind of art-fart con-trick that's been part-and-parcel of the last 50 years of the "civilized" world. Hell, how do you think hipsterism even came about? Hipsterism is the demon-child of this cowardly mentality, this Satanic triangular marriage of pretentiousness, sloth and con-trickery.
Lynch is a charlatan. What, you didn't know? Yes, how dare I mock a "visionary" who is having a laugh at your expense. Well, not at MY expense certainly, because I see right through this ruse. I am not a slave to peer pressure, which so brilliantly and easily ensures that any weak-minded fool can succumb to what can essentially be referred to as intellectual blackmail. "You don't appreciate Picasso, Lynch and Sigur Ros? You clueless peasant." I pity every single fool who ever thought this way. And yet, I also envy these nitwits, for they too inhabit a dream world not unlike Naomi's.
So what gave this silly movie such a high rating, aside from Lynch's unshakeable reputation? (A reputation so disaster-proof that he could film himself sitting on a toilet-seat, release it as a feature film - and still get nominated at Cannes.) Without a doubt, it's the lesbianism and Naomi's masturbation. If Naomi had chosen the path that many unsuccessful would-be actresses take - to do smut - and she'd filmed clips for YouPorn or whatever it's called, she'd be just another trashy smut-film slag. But doing this in a Lynch movie? "Get her an Oscar!" Because if you masturbate in (or to) a Lynch film you're artistic. The vast majority of cinephiles are male, a bunch of those being frustrated nerds/hipsters that love to be titillated - but hate to admit it. (The old cliché of sexual impulse getting in the way of "intellectual pursuits".) That's why they love to be titillated in the context of a piece of "art": that sort of gives them that excuse to not feel shame about their baser impulses. That's partly why so many "arty" films contain masturbation, incest, pedophilia, and other perversions too tasty for the average film student or critic to not succumb to.
Lynch's zombiefied fans espouse the flick's critique of Hollywood. Sure, coming from a director who GETS PAID by those people (while pretending to be a misfit rebel who's above commercial pressures/interests), that's not hypocritical at all. Haven't we already seen tons of movies about the seedy side of Hollywood? Is anyone really still surprised that Tinseltown is a one big turd-factory run by low-life nerds and non-talent nepotists? This was hardly newsworthy in 2001. Besides, Hollywood is so much worse than depicted here. If anything, Lynch should be lambasted for going so easy on his coke-sniffing, pedophile colleagues.
Even though he chose to wrap up the muddled set-up in a "it-was-all-a-dream" package, he still couldn't resist throwing in a bunch of mindless, oafish "art scenes" which serve to awe the (dumber) viewer, but which really/truly/definitely don't mean absolutely squat. Like that hilarious scene with two tiny people dashing out of the blue box. The last half-hour is like a pretentious, desperate collection of stream-of-consciousness segments lined up without order or sense. But hey! Who gives a hoot, right? Lynch made this so it must be art. It MUST have meaning.
Just to make sure his drooling fans don't leave disappointed, Lynch made sure the silicone-implanted brunette and Naomi had ANOTHER cheesy lesbian scene. And he made sure we were reminded what female masturbation looks like. You know, Naomi sticking her hand under her crotch and going "ow-ow". Art just doesn't get artier than that!
You also gotta love the paradox of portraying Hollywood's seediness - while focusing our attention on two oafish actresses and their sleazy love-affair. As if any intelligent viewer could possibly be interested in the to-and-fro between a couple of trashy lesbians.
When hipsterism starts ebbing away, this movie's ridiculous average will starting plummeting too. A direct correlation if there's ever been one.