The city was hopping this weekend, and we faced the hustle and bustle head on. We sardined it in Rockefeller Center, browsed the window displays on 5th Avenue, caught a glimpse of Alec Baldwin on the street while eating dinner, and spent the night at our accommodating friend Ben's place in the East Village. Oh, and there was one other thing...David Lynch's INLAND EMPIRE (he prefers it typed in all capital letters) was playing in one theater in the entire city, and we were there Saturday night. It should come as no surprise to anybody that I liked the film. It is bizarre and uncompromised, beautiful and haunting. Only time will tell how I rank it among Lynch's other work. I remember finishing my first viewings of Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive with a similar feeling. His movies leave me in awe, yet somehow unsatisfied. They come close to making sense but purposely do not. That's what leaves me wanting more. I'm anxious to see IE again--to literally feel it projected on the screen (the volume was so high, the entire theater vibrated to the opening shot of a needle grinding on a record), to refresh my fading memory of the hallucinatory visions, to try to figure it all out.
A lot could be said about the movie--a lot has already been said--but I'm not going to go into detail here. There are plenty of reviews online that discuss it at length, if you're interested. Try to see it for yourself when it gets a wider distribution, and then let's discuss it over a cup of coffee or a Heineken.
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