It can't be just me...

Rating: 2/10 (30 January 2002)

Have I missed something? Has my IQ suddenly plummeted to an all-time low? No, I refuse to believe that I've lost my senses here and that, in true Lynchian paranoia mode, it's everybody else that's gone crazy. But, my oh my, did this movie suck big time!
It's the same old David Lynch formula (which, believe it or not, I actually like) as seen in Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet, Eraserhead, Wild at Heart et al. But here, it feels not like Lynch himself, but some hack Lynch wannabe who has taken control. The acting, apart from the two female leads, is appalling - whoever cast Justin Theroux should be shot - the camerawork stodgy for the most part, and even Badalamenti's score sounds like he was composing in his sleep.
I'm all for innovation and challenging cinema, but this movie disappears up it's own rear end (and I don't mean in the intended way). Some scenes were also cringemakingly embarrassing to watch.
This is definitely, in my humble opinion, a sad case of the Emperor's New Clothes where a director has started pandering to the critics and vice versa. Who cares what it all means? When it's this badly, lazily, and pretentiously done, there's no point in even thinking about it. Along with Lost Highway, this definitely Lynch's worst.