David Lynch's Positivistic Relativism

Thinking about Mulholland Drive and Inland Empire . . . .

To oversimplify somewhat, it seems clear that each of those movies is a collection of versions of "reality," some of which are more "real" than others.

The main give-away to me was that some scenes are grossly clichéd in content or style, or over- or badly acted, while others aren't -- there seems to be a range. Also, some scenes clearly seem like fantasies in which certain elements from more "real" scenes are transformed and glamorized.

I want to say each of these movies is structured like a torus, although that's more hunch than something I've confirmed. But near the centers of both movies, we encounter one scene that seems perhaps more "real," at least in some respects, than the others: the center of the donut.

In Mulholland Drive, there's a scene near the center of the movie when the young blond actress auditions and meets The Director, an unprepossessing fellow who as I dimly recall (it's been year(s) since I've seen these movies and I saw each only once) was pretty much run over by his producer and investor(s). The Director and everything else in that scene seemed not at all glamorous but almost disappointingly pedestrian. It also seemed likely that the figure of The Director was meant to connect somehow to Lynch himself, or at least to his position in some version of reality. So I figured the info in that scene re- the other characters might be more "real." And that led me to suppose that the young blond actress really is struggling, and perhaps many of the more glamorized, melodramatic, or clichéd scenes were her fantasies.

There were also several versions of a blue something-or-other -- in one or more scenes, it was a very ordinary key, or a glamorized version of a key, or a box. And this "key" was itself a key to understanding that in someone's imagination (probably the blond's), an object in some fairly pedestrian, possibly more real scenario was being transformed into a similar object in some less real scenario (possibly serving metaphorically similar functions there?).

I found Inland Empire considerably more Byzantine, although maybe I was just more tired when I saw it -- but I saw similar patterns. Again, clearly, some scenes seemed more glamorized, melodramatic, clichéd (take that, Hollywood!) And again, somewhere near the center of the movie, there's a scene that seems closer to "reality." Jeremy Irons as The Director has a conversation with the guy doing the lighting. I'd never heard Lynch's voice at the time, but my sig. other said he thought the lighting guy's sounded like Lynch's. Irons was asking the lighting guy to change something, and the lighting guy kept getting it totally backward. (I hope I don't have to point out how hilarious and significant that concept is.)

In Inland Empire, the "key" object(s) is(are) red rather than blue: someone is stabbed (I think? or wounded -- again, it's been a few years) in the stomach; while in a more pedestrian, possibly more "real" version, someone accidentally shoots himself in the stomach with ketchup; also there's a red lamp, etc. (Sorry, didn't find any stills of these red "keys" online.)

So, the point.

I am a relativist. I don't believe there is any such thing as absolute truth. There can be no description of reality that perfectly represents it, at least not without perfectly and entirely replicating it.

But that doesn't mean some descriptions can't be more accurate, or at least more useful for certain purposes, than others.

If we throw up our hands and cry, it's all lies! we may be correct, but we're giving up on life.

Our task is to distinguish as best we can which fictions are more "real" than others, at least for our purposes; or more accurately, which work better, and for which purposes. (That is, as in science, which hypotheses provide greater predictive power.)

I'm thinking this is part of what Lynch is trying to shed light on (reference intended).

David Lynch on Mobile Video

Esp. true of Lynch's films, which are packed with highly-symbolic visual details that would be invisible on a small screen (regardless of the resolution).

Product Placement in Art Museums

The recent New York Times article about galleries paying museums to help finance exhibitions of artists represented by said galleries reminded me of a comment by David Lynch:


Also, the common view of politicians' solicitation of donations as "shakedowns."

Fine if you're an open, paid advocate for a certain party or point of view; not so fine if you purport to represent the general public or an independent point of view. The apparent conflict of interest undermines public confidence in the integrity of public institutions.

That said, I love the look of Takashi Murakami's platinum and aluminum Golden Buddha in the first pic above.

(Thanks to snarky for the tip on the Lynch clip!)

The 20th Annual Dallas Video Festival, July 31 - August 5

[NOTE: I may update this post from time to time as the Festival unfolds, to the extent I hear buzz that might be helpful; for links to videos & views of people at the Festival and related events, go here.]

The next DVF will soon be here, bigger and better than ever; it opens Tues., July 31 with Bodacious Boots by Tim Wylie and Laura Neitzel (a.k.a. the Good Witch of the Wild West), a documentary about cowboy boots featuring such luminaries as Lyle Lovett, Kinky Friedman, Dean Fearing, Dr. Laura, and Kelly Le Brock.

The DVF includes some 250 programs on multiple screens over a concentrated period. It's impossible to see everything one should, but I have a blast trying. Total DVF immersion is an experience no one should miss.

Below are some picks for the art-oriented. I've tried to be selective; there's TONS of other good stuff; for more info, go to the Dallas Video Festival website. I have not seen most of these picks, other than the ones I helped curate. Please confirm show times and locations before you go; here's a schedule that describes the programs in chron order, so you can see what conflicts with what. It's 29 pp. long, so you might want to print it two-sided, if you have the option. Parental discretion is advised for some programs.

WED., 8/1, 9PM at the Angelika Dallas: VIVA! by Anna Biller, wrangled by my darling sig. other, Ben. A suburban housewife abandoned by her husband finds herself in the middle of a swinging sexual revolution and is dragged through the worlds of hippies, prostitutes, and [god, no] bohemia! Imagine a more intensely visual, funnier, much more self-aware and much more female Russ Meyers and you’ll get a clue; this film is destined to become a classic! And Biller not only wrote, directed, and produced it, she also stars in the lead role and designed all the costumes -- Anna, you are my idol! Q & A with her here, where I see she notes her work was mentioned in Artforum's "Best of 1994."

THUR., 8/2, 7PM at the Dallas Theater Center: El Automóvil Gris (The Grey Automobile). A blood and thunder melodrama of robbery, kidnapping, and a fate worse than death inspire this cross-cultural, multi-media fantasia based on Enrique Rosas’ 1919 thriller. The real-life Grey Automobile Gang terrorized Mexico City, and Rosas filmed on location where the actual events occurred. Leading Mexican theater director Claudio Valdes Kuri has created an extravaganza based on the Japanese benshi tradition of live actors narrating silent films. Two costumed players supply dialogue and commentary in Spanish and Japanese, with English translation by North Carolina spoken-word artist Thomas McDonald and accompanied by a newly-created piano score. A separate ticket ($25) is required for this three-hour event.

THUR., 8/2, 8PM at the DTC: The Pervert's Guide to Cinema. "Cinema is the ultimate pervert art. It doesn't give you what you desire -- it tells you how to desire" - Slavoj Zizek. The Pervert's Guide takes the viewer on an exhilarating ride through some of the greatest movies ever made. The charismatic Zizek, Slovenian philosopher and psychoanalyst, delves into the hidden language of the cinematic canon, uncovering what movies tell us about ourselves in what The Times calls "an extraordinary reassessment of cinema." The film cuts its cloth from the very world of the movies it discusses; by shooting at original locations and on replica sets, creating the uncanny illusion that Zizek is speaking from within the films themselves.

FRI., 8/3, 7PM DTC: Hadacol Christmas by Brent Green (courtesy of Bellwether Gallery in NYC) is a deliciously dark animation about a Santa with "a belly full of cough syrup and a head full of dying crows." 11.11 min. (Thanks for the tip, Dee Mitchell!)

FRI., 8/3, 7PM or a little later, DTC: Tech-Art Activism Compilation (right AFTER Hadecol Christmas), wrangled by moi. The videos in this compilation show creative uses of technology (sometimes kinda hi-tech and sometimes low-) to challenge perceived abuses of power or public resources. Includes do-it-yourself instructions for some of the technologies; as much fun as it sounds! I discovered most of the pieces in this comp. at the OpenCity: Tools for Public Action show at Eyebeam in NYC, which was curated by Graffiti Research Lab (aka "GRL").

From GRL:

• L.A.S.E.R. Tag shows GRL's laser-graffiti rig in action: a mobile projection facility used to "bomb" tall buildings without painting or harming them . . . you can put a lot of stuff up before someone stops you. 3.49 min.
• Light Criticism. A collaboration between GRL and Steve Lambert of the Anti-Advertising Agency to transform publicly-supported, commercial light projection facilities. Advertising is the vandalism of the Fortune 500. 2.20 min.
• The Drip Sessions. DIY light graffiti projection derived from "the classic shoe polish mop recipe." 2 min.
• The FIRST LED Throwie. 1 min. Night Writer. Cheap and easy to make, this device enables you to mount boards with 12-inch letters in glowing LED's on any iron or steel surface, up to 25-feet in the air if you stand on an overturned garbage can. Ca. 1 min.
• Threat Advisory Tower. In this project, GRL created a six-story LED tower lit with the various Homeland Security Threat colors, while blocking out the abutting windows to spell in giant letters, "BLAH BLAH BLAH"; cops arrive, etc. Ca. 3 min.
• Impeach the F#$%!r From west Manhattan to the Brooklyn Promenade, the "surge" is working! GRL joins forces with A28, truth move, Parsons geek graffiti crew and Home X heroes, the OpenLab, Leon Reid, and others to support Dennis Kucinich’s legislation to impeach V.P. Dick Cheney. 6.36 min.
• From Mark Jenkins: Traffic-Go-Round. Washington DC recently spent $6 million dollars to redevelop Thomas Circle. The artists decided, for $35 dollars more, why not turn it into a merry-go-round? 3.57 min.

FRI., 8/3, 7PM DTC: Afraid So by Jay Rosenblatt, part of the Humanness and Other Oddities Compilation. A short, black-and-white film about fear and anxiety permeated with impending doom. Jay Rosenblatt is a Guggenheim and Rockefeller fellow and therapist-turned-filmmaker whose works explore our emotional and psychological cores.

FRI., 8/3, 7PM DTC: everything will be ok by Don Hertzfeldt, part of the Humanness and Other Oddities Compilation. A series of dark and troubling events forces Bill to reckon with the meaning of his life -- or lack thereof. Mega awards.

FRI., 8/3, 8PM DTC: Brand upon the Brain by the brilliant Guy Maddin, a director artier and more f---ed-up than Lynch. I haven’t seen as much as I’d like of Maddin’s work; but I long to compare and contrast his Careful with Paul McCarthy’s Heidi. “This lyrical narrative fantasy . . . tells the story of [Maddin’s] childhood through muddled memories of the struggle for power between his mother and older sister. (Silent with musical accompaniment.)” Sponsored by the Canadian Consulate General. Don’t miss what might be your only chance to see this piece.

FRI., 8/3, 8PM DTC: Graphic Activism Compilation, curated by Jan Baxter. These animated shorts each deal with media and the creation of desire using advertising, search engines and other less straightforward methods. Includes The Stork by Nina Paley, What Barry Says by Simon Robeson & Barry McNamara, Master Plan about the Power of Google by Ozan Halici & Jurgen Mayer, Next Industrial Revolution by Christopher V. Bronsart & Daniel Migge, Pirates and Emperors or Size Does Matter by Eric Henry, Trusted Computing by Benjamin Stephan & Lutz Vogel, Kapitaal by Ton Meijdam & Thom Snels, Black Day to Freedom by Rob Chiu, When I Grow Up by Mauro Gatti, and Bear Witness 111 by Eric Henry.

FRI., 8/3, 8PM DTC: 8 Bit, by Marcin Ramocki. A melange of rocumentary, art expose, and culture-critical investigation, this piece examines the influence of video games on contemporary culture and artistic expression. [Update: Local video artist/gallerist/musician Paul Slocum and his band, treewaves, appear in this piece, which elevates it to a must-see for me. See Slocum's and/or gallery website here, his band site here, or his band's MySpace site (where you can hear some music) here. Cory Arcangel, Tom Moody, Marcin of VertexList, RSG, and DRX of Bodenstandig 2000 are also featured.]

FRI., 8/3, 8:30PM DTC: Best of Slant: Bold Asian American Images Film Festival. I’m dying to see this (credit to my unconscious for that pun or whatever it is), since I plan to be born in China for my next life: a 70-min. compilation of short works by Asian American directors, presented at Aurora Picture Show's annual Slant Festival between 2000-2007.

FRI., 8/3, 9:45 DTC: Short Works by David Lynch, including programs from Six Men Getting Sick, The Alphabet, The Grandmother, and each episode of Dumbland. These are or will be available only on his new website, and I think you'd have to subscribe there to see them, and I'm guessing you wouldn't get them there in a large-screen format. (Inland Empire inspired my first blog post, here.)

SAT. 8/4, 12 noon DTC: Those Were the Days by my friend Adam Bork, part of the You Should Meet My Family! Compilation. “No explanations or meanings for said piece are available. It has been made and now it exists.” I'll just add, it's got mannequins and dunes.

SAT. 8/4, 12 noon DTC: Strange Culture by Lynn Hershman Lesson. If you don't know about this already, you need to. In May of 2004, artist Steve Kurtz woke to find his wife dead of heart failure and called 911. The police looked at his art works, which included harmless microbe specimens, and called the FBI. The FBI charged Kurtz with bioterrorism. Actors Thomas Jay Ryan and Tilda Swinton play the Kurtzes, while Kurtz himself appears in interviews.

SAT. 8/4, 12:45PM DTC: Here is Always Somewhere Else by Rene Daalder. The life and work of Dutch/Californian conceptual artist Bas Jan Ader, who in 1975 disappeared under mysterious circumstances at sea in the smallest boat ever to cross the Atlantic. As seen through the eyes of fellow emigrant filmmaker Rene Daalder, the picture becomes a sweeping overview of contemporary art films as well as an epic saga of the transformative powers of the ocean. Featuring artists Tacita Dean, Rodney Graham, Marcel Broodthaers, Ger van Elk, Charles Ray, Wim T. Schippers, Chris Burden, Fiona Tan, Pipilotti Rist, and many others.

SAT. 8/4, 2PM DTC: Idiot Joy Showland, also wrangled by me. It’s a jam-packed art video compilation co-curated by John Pilson and Claudia Altman-Siegel (and presented by Nicole Klagsbrun Gallery, NY). Shorts by 28 artists, including "stars" such as Cindy Sherman and Doug Aitken as well as not-yet-as-well-knowns, exploring a wide array of subjects and strategies. You won't believe how much good stuff this comp. includes. Total run time ca. 115 min. Includes Fragments from an Abandoned Cinema presented by Peggy Ahwesh, Makin’ Love in the Sunshine by Guy Richards Smit, Famous Quotes from Art History by Michael Smith, Doll Clothes by Cindy Sherman, Untitled video by Guy Ben-Ner, Rehearsal Behavior 1 by Alix Pearlstein, Lollypop by Kalup Linzy, The Results of Energy Neither being Created Nor Destroyed on a Sunny Day by James Yamada, Fear of Blushing by Jennifer Reeves, If I Wasn’t Me I Would Be You by Harrell Fletcher, Wing Bowl by Jenny Drumgoole, PleasePleasePlease by Kathy Spade, Crush Collision by Chris Larson, Sleepwalkers by Doug Aitken, 29 Palms: Brief by An-My Le, North of the Rug Fibers by Christopher Miner, Lower East Side Bike Drumroll (excerpt) by Kristin Lucas, My Father Breathing into a Mirror by Neil Goldberg, Harold Boner by Larry Clark, House Burning by Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller, life like by Aida Ruilova, Review by Jenny Perlin, You Won’t Remember This by Jeff Scher, Don’t You Want Somebody to Love You by Laurel Nakadate, Softcore by Rodney Graham, Hic et Ubique by John Pilson, and Art of Awakening by Meiro Koizumi.

SAT. 8/4, 3PM DTC: Lunch Films by various artists. A series of films commissioned by Mike Plante. He'd buy a filmmaker lunch, with the debt to be repaid with a film of the same cost. It started by accident and necessity; since then, 28 shorts have been eaten. Terms based on whatever was discussed at lunch were written on a napkin contract. Buy an artist lunch today.

SAT. 8/4, 4PM DTC: Black White + Gray by James Crump. An examination of the life of Sam Wagstaff, an influential curator, collector, and force in the art world, this film explores Wagstaff's strong bonds with Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe. Director Crump served as curator of photography at the Kinsey Institute for Sex Research.

SAT. 8/4, 4PM DTC: Smells Like Teen Spirit by Jem Cohen. A brilliant interpretation of Patti Smith's cover of the song originally recorded by Nirvana. Totally f---ing gorgeous; Patti wields a guitar like an AK-47; The Matrix meets Deliverance. (Compare and contrast Paul Anka's cover here; no, don't; just watch Cohen's several more times.) [UPDATE: I liked this piece so much that I ended up writing a 6,000-word analysis of it, here.]

SAT. 8/4, 5:30 DTC: A Walk into the Sea: Danny Williams and the Warhol Factory. No further info provided; I’ll be there.

SAT. 8/4, 8PM DTC: Chicken Delight by Bryan Konefsky, in the Corporation Nation Compilation. An exploration of America's love affair with radioactivity: irradiated lunch meat, radioactive nail polish, radium suppositories sold as a precursor to Viagra, etc.

SAT. 8/4, 8PM DTC: Copyright, Culture (Remixed): Volume 3, Illegal Art by Rebekah Farrugia. A media prof. questions the boundaries of U.S. copyright law by focusing on artists who borrow from images in the mainstream media. Using as a backdrop the traveling exhibit, Illegal Art: Freedom of Expression in the Corporate Age, Farrugia illustrates through artist interviews how remixed CNN footage of George W. Bush, the Teletubbies, altered photos of corporate signs, and Pez dispensers for fallen rappers can be recombined to create unique, original work transcending the rights of prior copyright holders.

SAT. 8/4, 8PM DTC: war_machine by Deven James Langston. “war_machine is a simplified, biased view of the systematic and mechanical structure I see in the United States. It is not a linear video, but rather an interactive, continuously looping animation. It aims at nothing more than to bring the viewer's attention to the idea of representing the life cycle in a very rigid and graphical manner.”

SUN. 8/5, 5:30 PM DTC: Fat Girls by Ash Christian. A theater-obsessed gay teen and his overweight best friend embark on a journey of discovery that leads from smalltown America to the Great White Way. Score by my friend John Dufilho and the Deathray Davies, including the infamous, "Danette is the Bomb."

SUN. 8/5, 6:45 PM DTC: Video Sketches by Rusty Scruby (courtesy of (PanAmerican Projects), wrangled by moi. Scruby was trained as an aerospace engineer but traded that career for art, developing a technique for weaving 3-D paintings from thousands of precisely-cut pieces of photographs and sketches. He recently made these short videos as experiments to illustrate the abstract relationships he uses in synthesizing "a new visual and musical language.” Followed by Quin Mathews' documentary about Scruby and his work.

SUN. 8/5, 7PM DTC: Rusty Scruby: Beyond the Plane. Filmmaker Quin Mathews follows Scruby around, documenting his unique method of creating art. Quin's an accomplished documentarian; this is my favorite of his films that I’ve seen.

SUN. 8/5, 8PM DTC: Who is Bozo Texino? by Bill Daniel. (those of you who came to the recent series at Conduit may have noticed Daniel is the one who discovered the lost footage of Pie Fight ‘69.) "This travel adventure, faithfully photographed in black and white at considerable risk from speeding freight trains and in secret hobo jungles, in the dogged pursuit of the impossibly convoluted story of the heretofore untold history of the century-old folkloric practice of hobo and railworker graffiti and the absurd quest for the true identity of railroading's greatest artist, will likely amuse and confound you in its sincere attempt to understand and preserve this artform" [de-emphasis supplied].

SUN. 8/5, 9PM DTC: The Texas Show. This independently-juried compilation showcases the best submissions connected to Texas.

FULL SCHEDULE here.

All-Day Passes range from $10 (weeknights) to $25 (weekends)
All-Festival Pass & -Party Access: $150
All-Festival Pass: $80
All-Festival Pass for VAD Members: $60
Most Individual Programs: $7.50 (not available for all programs, door only)
Special event ticket to El Automóvile Gris (presented by the Dallas Video Festival, Vistas Film Festival, and the Asian Film Festival Dallas): $25
Discounts available to community partners, seniors and students.
Tickets can be purchased at the door or online at www.acteva.com/go/videofest.

To join, donate, or for more info, go to www.videofest.org.

Jeff Wall, David Lynch, and Preconceptions

This blog is triggered by my dissatisfaction with the critical response to-date to David Lynch’s Inland Empire.

Preconceptions are often indispensable. E.g., if we had to actually figure out everything we encounter, from moment to moment, from scratch, we’d be as overwhelmed and helpless as infants. Preconceptions enable us to get past first base; once we've constructed certain models and modes for coping, we can build on what we already "know."

That said, preconceptions can of course get in the way – they can be destructive or even deadly.

I mean destructive psychically as well as in physical ways. The way I want to discuss now has to do with how we understand good art and literature.

The critics generally seem to have agreed to call Inland Empire magnificent meaninglessness – don't even try to understand it, they say; you'll drive yourself mad.

To declare any human expression meaningless is a large and foolhardy claim. It's a lot different than just proposing some particular not-necessarily-exclusive interpretation. You are essentially claiming to have made an exhaustive study of all possible signs and modes of meaning and to have determined the entire production to be 100% meaning-free.

It's great to be willing to admire a work you don't purport to understand; but, pardon my critical cajones or whatever, it's even better to actually penetrate it.

And it's not so great if, even while praising the work, you call it meaningless rather than admit that maybe you just didn't get it. That does damage. Not only to your own credibility (not to mention your intellect and soul); it also harms others, who are discouraged from even trying to understand the work. (I sometimes wonder if some critics actually fear meaning. But I realize many work under ridiculous deadlines and other difficult conditions.)

This is important, because we NEED challenging art, because at its best it’s trying to HELP us, to lure us BEYOND preconceptions that may have become dangerous.

I read a review of MoMA’s Jeff Wall show recently. Now, I happen to think the critic who wrote it generally has good instincts. But s/he mentioned a photograph of Wall’s that I'd also seen in the flesh, The Storyteller, and I think the critic overlooked something important. The piece shows a clearing between a highway overpass and some woods, with some people scattered around, all seated on the ground. It pretty clearly refers to Edouard Manet's Le déjeuner sur l’herbe (Picnic on the Grass), as well as to pictorial art history in general.

What took a few minutes to sink in for me was that most of the people are sitting on mud. I mean, they’re in this at least semi-natural setting, so esp. if the Manet bell was rung for you, you expect them to be on the grass. But in fact, the surface area is divided evenly and very distinctly into thirds – reminiscent of the French flag, in fact.  One third is light gray stone; one third is yellow-green grass; and one third is rough, dark mud, and that's where most everyone's sitting.

Certainly, if Wall had wanted to shoot people seated on grass, he could have. Instead, he seems to have gone to some trouble to find or create an area with this evenly divided surface and to put most of the people on the mud.  Once you notice it, it’s distinctly weird.

The critic reviewing Wall's show specifically mentioned "gazing" at the concrete, stone, and grass, but made no mention of the incongruous and arguably most notable part, the mud and the fact that most of the people on it.

Manet's piece was itself rather weird, thumbing its nose at proper perspective and composition, with the entire scene tilted and objects and people weighted toward falling out of the lower left corner; and with characters dressed either not at all or too formally for their bucolic setting (all while seeming to gibe, we're having a little free love here along with our free thinking; and you're doing what with your life, again?)  While the people in Wall's piece huddle on patches of surfaces ill-suited to human needs – they and we seem reduced to mere nostalgia for the already-complicated relationship between humans and nature signalled in Manet's masterpiece.  (And the maybe-homeless guy sitting by himself on the stones under the bridge – possibly, partly a stand-in for the artist [or his insecurities]?)

Could events in or relating to France around the time Wall’s piece was made also be relevant?  Between 2003 and 2006, there were massive demonstrations in France against the Iraq war, high unemployment, and conservative-backed university and labor reforms (see here, here, here, here, and here).  France's opposition to the Iraq invasion had even inspired the U.S. Congress to pass a law re-naming French fries, “Freedom Fries,” in the Congressional cafeteria.  And then, there are certain parallels between French and U.S. histories, w.r.t. exploitation of colonial populations, or revolution against extractive oligarchies . . . .

I haven’t figured out what all Wall might have meant, but I'd bet he meant something, and the fact that his dejeuner is not on the grass seems to me to be crucial. (And could some thoughtful person among us supposedly visual folk please discuss the implications of the [to-my-knowledge-never-mentioned-though-I-admit-I-haven't-researched-it] power lines or whatever they are that bisect the visual plane like a whap-whap in the face?)

The critic apparently did not see the mud; instead, s/he saw what s/he expected, and lost an important opportunity to find out much more about what the work might be doing – and in the process, closed that door for most of her/his readers as well.

Absent an intense emotional association, we usually find it easiest to remember new data that we can relate to something we already "know." It takes an effort even to register, let alone understand, data that does not fit with our preconceptions.

As indispensable as preconceptions are to our functioning in the world at all, it is often at least as important that we make a sincere effort first and above all to simply observe what is actually there.

This is the main point of this post. You cannot “get” good art or literature, unless you first notice its actual features.  Forget, at least temporarily, the urge to come up with a quotable quip; you're probably best off resisting interpretation altogether for as long as possible.  Perhaps especially look for that which does not seem quite right – and assume that that's nonetheless what the artist intended, consciously or not.

(The fact is, most artists leave plenty of clues – like Wall's mud – in plain sight.)

Inland Empire: I agree this one’s a challenge, and I don't yet get it, at least not all of it. I’ve only seen it once (last nite), and I was tired, and I’ve only seen 2 other movies by Lynch, Eraserhead and Mulholland Drive. But I do not believe Inland is meaningless.

First, Lynch seems to be using at least some strategies similar to those he used in Mulholland. I worked out the “real” bits of Mulholland, based on (1) the fact that some scenes seemed completely convincing, while in others the acting and dialogue seemed shallower and more predictable, even clichéd; and (2) the odd scene in the center of the movie with the largely-ignored “director” – I forget exactly what transpired, but it tipped me off that he was in some way a stand-in for Lynch (or his insecurities).

The acting and lines in many of Inland's scenes are also totally over the top – e.g., the v. impt. scene in which the older Polish neighbor woman warns the Laura Dern “Nikki” about things being or seeming out of chronological order (a warning I think we should take seriously in attempting to understand this movie).

I also noticed red, phallic objects. Again, Lynch used a similar tactic in Mulholland – there was a “real,” blue key that was transformed in the young blonde's fantasies. In Inland, there's an overly long shot of an unduly red and phallic lamp. I started looking for more such objects, possibly a bit late in the game, but this morning remembered how the Polish husband shoots himself in the gut with the ketchup bottle. (I’m sure there are other instances; e.g., the black woman with the cigarette lighter – was the lighter red? was the screwdriver handle red?) [For this and other reasons, I suspect the more “real” levels in this film take place among the Polish characters. If I had to guess, I'd say one of the two main, Polish young women – either the one watching television or the one who greets her returning husband near the end – is Lynch's Ariel: the "real" person imagined by Lynch, who is central in that it's she who's imagining or experiencing everything else.]

Light is obviously important. Dramatic lighting throughout: weird, interesting lamps, the cigarette lighter, etc.; not to mention the discussion in the center of the movie between the Jeremy Irons “Director” (pretty clearly less real, although I’m sad to think that the Polish girl who I think is imagining these scenes has more insight into how Hollywood directors work than I do – I thought she did a darn good job – but I found Irons’ carefully-directed, "directorial" stubble and outfit, and his last scene with Dern, just implausible – although I suspect they may also be a semi-realistic depiction of the normal surreality of Hollywood) and the lighting guy who, if I heard correctly, completely inverted the “Director”’s direction and had to stop to take a crap (my boyfriend thought he sounded like Lynch — which makes me wonder if the movie may be constructed like a torus or donut, with this exchange between Irons and the lighting guy existing near the center as a connection between the movie's most and least "real" levels.)

(Also, why did Lynch take the trouble to blur out the faces of the woman and her companion in the opening scenes? This is one of the things that makes me think there might be something special about that particular woman – that she might be the author of everything else we see – but I'm really not sure; the important thing first is just to notice it.)

So, next, we also have rubbed in our faces: marketplace = Hollywood & Vine = hangout for whores looking for johns.

In the alley behind, we see scrawled, “Axxon N.” The only thing I’ve thought of so far for this is, an anagram for Anno XX (i.e., "year 20")? But apparently Axxon N. is a series to be released on Lynch's website, which is what he says he’s REALLY excited about these days (interview here). [But if anyone can think of something significant re- "year 20", I'd love to hear about it.] Another series to be released on his website is Rabbits, which I understand looks just like the rabbit-costumed segments in Inland.

Also, I can say from my experience analyzing other texts, titles are usually very important. Now, me, having created a small, virtual space empire of my own (i.e., c-cyte) comprising video, photography, digital art, essays, a miniature Shakespeare Festival, etc. – I’m not at all surprised to learn that Lynch is now doing more or less the same, only he'll make money on his.

Could the movie, Inland Empire, be, in part, a trailer for the conquest of virtual space that will be davidlynch.com?

And didn't I hear a reference in the movie to Dario Fo? Described by the online Britannica as "best known for his solo tour de force Mistero Buffo (1973; “Comic Mystery”), based on medieval mystery plays but so topical that the shows changed with each audience" (emphasis supplied).

To get any further, I’d need to see the movie again.

Of course, even if we figure out what's "really" happening in the movie, there's still the question of whether it all conveys any info that might actually be useful or helpful in any way – is there any "deeper meaning," and if so, what is it. E.g., Shakespeare's plays were clearly aimed partly at his royal audience and contain a wealth of valuable info about how to do a good job ruling, among other things. What does Lynch teach us?

I can't tell you that yet, but I'm convinced that there's not only a method but also a meaning to Lynch’s madness.

A few aspects I like but can't totally justify based strictly on observation of the movie are that, as I understand, Lynch has described the movie as being about a young woman in trouble, and I think there have been a lot of Eastern European young women in trouble lately; and politically, Poland has been an extremely interesting place for a while now: the setting for a velvet revolution against Soviet domination; but an "important" member of Bush's coalition in Iraq and a likely destination for CIA black ops renditions (see CIA Jails in Europe 'Confirmed').

(Jeff Wall is represented in the U.S. by Marian Goodman Gallery, New York.)