Director Report Card: David Lynch (2006)

13. Inland Empire

With “Mulholland Drive” and some of the greatest critical success of his career behind him, you would think David Lynch would go on to further mainstream success. Instead, the director fell in love with digital film. The ability to shoot whatever he wanted, cheaply and quickly, allowed Lynch to follow his weird muse where ever it would take him. Out of this era of newfound creative freedom would arise “Inland Empire.” Shooting with his own digital cameras, “Inland Empire” would be filmed over the course of several years. The script would be assembled in a piece-meal fashion, the actors never entirely sure what the project would be about. The resulting film, running three hours in length, would largely baffle and disorient most who saw it. To this day, it remains one of David Lynch's most puzzling achievements.

Describing the plot of “Inland Empire” is not especially easy but I will attempt to do so. Nikki Grace is an actress. She is cast to star in “On High in Blue Tomorrows,” in which she will play the character of Sue. The plot of film seems to involve a woman having an affair with a married man. During production, Nikki – a married woman with a sinister husband – is drawn into an affair with her co-star, Devon Berk. The director informs the cast that the film is actually a remake of an unfinished Polish movie, production of which ended when the two stars were murdered, leading to rumors of the project being cursed. Soon, Nikki becomes absorbed by the part she is playing, seemingly falling backwards through time and space.

“Inland Empire” is among David Lynch's most experimental films, ranking up there with “Eraserhead” for sheer inscrutability. The film starts out with a relatively clear narrative, though with plenty of the surreal asides. After Nikki steps through the door marked “Axxon N.,” the film disappears into a series of vaguely linked episodes, some harder to decipher than others. As the film jumps through time and place and different layers of reality, events call back to each other, complimenting or building on each other. The best way to handle “Inland Empire” is as a web of interlinking events, some of the connections being more vague than others.

Less concerned with narrative than ever before, “Inland Empire” sees Lynch fully embracing his status as a creator of mood pieces. And the mood “Inland Empire” is trying to create is one of utter anxiety. Whatever Nikki is going through, it has left her in a really bad place. The film's soundscape is largely made up of simmering industrial noise and foreboding musical discordance. Throughout the story's various events, Nikki/Sue is often being attacked or threatened. Considering the film's incoherence, and themes of slipping identity and an uncertain world, “Inland Empire” begins to feel like an inside-out portrayal of a full-blown mental breakdown. Watching the film is like being trapped inside the hellish world of a mentally ill person for three hours. It's a frequently nerve-wracking experience.

When combined with “Lost Highway” and “Mulholland Drive,” “Inland Empire” forms the final prong of David Lynch's Los Angeles Trilogy. All three films muse on themes of identity, duality, and Hollywood. In “Inland Empire,” we see an actress so adsorbed by the part she is playing, that we are never entirely certain if we are seeing “Nikki” or “Sue.” One person has split into two but the split is so vast, that it's hard to judge where one begins and the other ends. The entertainment industry forms the phantasmasic setting for this tale of splintering identity, a fitting location seeing how Hollywood is a world of reinvention, loss selves, and stolen dreams.

What exactly “Inland Empire” is suppose to mean is entirely up to the individual. Lynch describes the film only as being about one of his favorite subjects, “a woman in trouble.” I can't help but feel like “Inland Empire” is meant to put us in the mindset of a woman trapped in an abusive relationship. From what we see of Nikki's husband, he is a glowering and possessive figure. Once the film's long, hallucinatory middle section begins, we see Nikki/Sue trapped in a loveless marriage with a clueless man. Sometimes, her husband is also involved in a sex trafficking ring. Sometimes, Nikki is a prostitute beaten and abused by her pimp. Regardless of what reality we are in, Nikki/Sue is almost always being threatened by men. If you feel trapped or terrified watching “Inland Empire,” that's how the women in these situation feels all the time.

“Inland Empire's” focus on sex work is especially interesting. During the chapters were Nikki is trapped inside Smithy's home, she is sometimes part of a troupe of prostitutes. Whether she's literally a hooker or merely spending time with the girls seems to vary from scene-to-scene. Villainous Polish men gather in sleazy looking locations to discuss girls and captives, suggesting sex trafficking is part of the DNA of “Inland Empire's” plot. Is this merely a manifestation of the film's “women in trouble” theme or is there a more specific point here? Actresses do all sorts of things to be successful. Is “Inland Empire' comparing the humiliation prostitutes suffer to the debasement actresses go through to succeed in Hollywood? The film seems to literalize that point when Nikki, dying from a screwdriver stabbing, coughs up blood on the Walk of Fame while two homeless women talk about prostitutes around her.

Within “Inland Empire's” dream zone, time and place is lucid. How much of the film is set in L.A. and how much is set in Poland, I honestly do not know. We seem to shift between the modern day setting, ostensibly when “On High in Blue Tomorrows” is being filmed, and the 1930s past, when the original cursed production was being made. “On High in Blue Tomorrows” seems to take place in mansions and nice homes. The other scenes during “Inland Empire's” dream-like sequences take place in a trashy home, in dirty kitchens and untidy yards. These scenes stink of the past too. In a moment evocative of “Twin Peaks” central poem – “through the darkness of future past” – Nikki burns holes in silk, looks through them, and sees the past. Inside this movie's unnerving world, you can't ever be certain of when or where you are. We can only drift along with Nikki/Sue as she's tossed through time and space.

As a film that defies easy categorization, it's hard to say what exactly “Inland Empire” is. Like the rest of Lynch's L.A. Trilogy, it has touches of neo-noir. Though what crime and mystery are being investigated here is hard to say. Since it's focused so much on Nikki's psychological turmoil, it's certainly a drama too. Yet, considering its prevailing mood of doom-filled anxiety, “Inland Empire” is probably best described as a surreal horror movie. Some times, the tone of panic-inducing dread graduates to burst of full-throttle horror. Such as when a demented-looking version of Nikki leaps from the darkness, directly towards the camera. This moment is magnified in “Inland Empire's” climax when a warped, insane version of her face is added to the main villain's body. As always, Lynch utilizes the absurd to a totally nightmarish effect.

As frightening as “Inland Empire” might be, this is not the only mood the film operates in. Occasionally, it makes space in its extensive three-hour run time for other emotions. During a routine day of filming, the director – played with lots of dignity by Jeremy Irons – asks for the gaffer to lower the mic. What follows is a long, drawn-out moment of comic absurdity as the mush-mouthed, off-screen gaffer (voiced by Lynch himself) attempts to find the right height. Harry Dean Stanton also made me chuckle as a stage manager who is always asking people for money. There's also, surprisingly enough, playful moments of synchronized dance routines in “Inland Empire.” Lastly, for all its anxiety-inducing dread, the film does build towards a moment of climatic catharsis. It seems, at the end, one of the women in trouble gains her freedom.

One of the reasons “Eraserhead” works is because we have a central protagonist along for the nightmarish ride. “Inland Empire” has that much in common with Lynch's debut as well. Laura Dern, perhaps Lynch's most enduring muse, stars as Nikki. Long stretches of “Inland Empire” is devoted a fiery, disturbing monologue Dern delivers to the camera, detailing a series of violent encounters she's had with men. Where this fits into the film's inner logic is anyone's guess but it's a riveting bit of acting. Dern is utterly captivating all throughout. When weeping, screaming, or panicking in abject horror, she is always amazing to watch. While the actress would claim she had no idea what the movie was about, she certainly seems to always have a bead on the emotional core of her scenes. (It's a, by now, well known bit of cult movie lore that David Lynch would campaign for Dern to get an Oscar nomination by appearing in L.A. with a live cow, for some reason. It didn't work.)

“Inland Empire” runs long at three hours, which sometimes almost feels unbearable considering how uncomfortable much of the film is. And yet, it could've been longer. Included on the DVD is “More Things That Happened,” a seventy minute long collection of deleted scenes. Most of these scenes were justifiably excised from the finished film. A long sequence devoted to Dern cleaning her house is inessential, to say the least. A sequence devoted to the prostitutes standing on Hollywood Boulevard, talking and fighting among themselves, while music plays over top is interesting... Until it just keeps going. Some of the missing scenes do clarify vague lines about time or further build on the relationship between Nikki and her possible husband, Smithy. Still, it's not truly a stand alone feature and is probably best reserved for hardcore fans of the film. Considering the piece-meal fashion “Inland Empire” was shot, even this is probably just a smattering of the material filmed during production.

About two opinions seem to exist concerning “Inland Empire.” For some fans, this is precisely the point where David Lynch irrevocably disappeared up his own ass. The film's digital video presentation is rather ugly and that seems by design. It's punishing length, abrasive atmosphere, and largely incoherent narrative certainly makes it a challenging motion picture. For those willing to follow Lynch on his wild visions, “Inland Empire” does offer some rewards. I can't love it as much as his earlier film. It does, in part, feel a lot like a major artist simply fucking around. Yet it does deliver some unforgettable images and successfully summons a tone of pure dread. And, hey, a dancing monkeys shows up too. [Grade: B]