I have once again been duped into sinking $7.50 into Lynch's worthless tripe.

Rating: 3/10 (2 December 2001)

Allow me to start by saying that I do not particularly care for David Lynch's work. I went to see it anyway because it was recommended by several critics whom I normally trust. Ten minutes into the movie I was regretting my decision. The characters are intentionally shallow and archetypal, almost grotesquely so. I presume this is so that Lynch can more easily use them as pivot points for his "brilliantly surreal" ideas and imagery but I found myself wondering if he even knows how to explore depth in a character. Furthermore, the dialogue is atrocious. Conversations are filled with meaninglessly profound statements that have little to do with the scene or the character who says them. Added to this are long, artificial silences and shared, pregnant gazes that, all told, made me feel like I was being clubbed in the head repeatedly by Lynch's "vision". The plot itself is muddled and irrelevant. It is merely an excuse for Lynch to disgorge his self-indulgent whims. Lynch does not portray a story but ideas. The problem is that the ideas aren't related. Random scenes with characters who play no part in the actual furtherance of the story are liberally sprinkled in among relevant scenes. The cinematography and music were effective in their design but I found myself questioning Lynch's choices. He built tension in harmless scenes and jubilation in ordinary ones. After two hours of this the net effect was that I was tired of being manipulated to no discernible end. There are those who would claim that all of the flaws I have mentioned are simply elements of Lynch's peculiar and captivating style. To them I say that it does not take a genius to throw a random sampling of fever-dreams and drug fantasies together in front of a camara and it is certainly does not make art.