Lost Highway (1997)
I like to remember things my own way.
Presentation:
Sometimes the film a director makes is different than the movie filmgoers want. David Lynch demonstrates his art degree chops with an experimental avant garde experience with surrealist suburban Americana. Everything from the red drapes and velvety robes to the uncanny makeup and punk fashion screams Lynch. This is one of those subconscious art house films where the narrative is secondary to the experience, and in some ways irrelevant. But unlike similar films Lost Highway was influenced by like Mirror, it is much rougher. The music and horror elements have a carnival flair, and not in a fun way like Carnival of Souls. Let’s just say I haven’t laughed this hard at an attempted jump scare in my life. Robert Blake’s performance is the best thing about this film and there is one uncanny scene that should stick with you. But for a film attempting to hijack your subconscious, I forgot nearly everything else, which is why this film fails for me.
Analysis:
The key to understanding this film can be mostly extracted from one line from Fred: “I like to remember things my own way.” This sums up the identity of this film, which on its surface level is a metaphor for man’s subconscious. In the film, Fred and Al inexplicably switch places with the mystery man being their link. Fred murders his wife, but claims he cannot remember it. He then switches places with a young teenager Al, suggesting a doppleganger duality of his subconscious self. One level deeper into the iceberg, this could simply be analyzed as his mental dissociation for murdering his wife. Fred develops amnesia through his split personality or at least conjures up an alternate story in order to cope with his traumatic violent nature.
However what is more likely is a metaphor for Lynch’s career. Filmmakers love to make cryptic autobiographies, which can be explained by the mystery man taping Fred with the camera. Fred even looks like Lynch, especially with the same haircut. The most intriguing scene is when the mystery man is both in the house and at the party, suggesting that he represents the force of cinema, able to exist beyond physical time and place while permeating throughout his life. And most crucially, not uninvited. Although Lynch may have brought it upon himself, he also wants to remember things his own way. But being an obscure artist, most audiences probably cannot grasp his work, and understandably so. This is made clear at the end of the film where the man shows a dying Dick/Eddy a porno he made with audiences enjoying it, addressing the relationship between filmmaker and audience. Critics and reviewers like myself may misjudge Lynch’s work to be crude, profane, violent, grotesque, or even pornographic.
Looking back at his filmography, his most recent films prior to this one were Blue Velvet, Wild Heart, and Twin Peaks. Blue Velvet garnered outrage for its graphic sexual violence and Wild at Heart for its graphic torture. But Lynch is indeed an artist, graduating from art school and delivering his grotesque masterpiece Eraserhead. Unfortunately most filmgoers don’t have the capacity to appreciate a film based on a director’s entire history, leading to the backlash. Lost Highway sets the record straight. Though he may be sentenced to movie jail, he prefers to remember his work his own way.
Conclusion:
David Lynch has always been hit or miss for me. But regardless how you feel about this film, one cannot deny the signature artistry of Lynch. That doesn’t mean you have to appreciate this cup of tea, but at least there is a directorial vision to be had. This shields the film from most criticisms as it will be subjective by nature, depending on how much you appreciate Lynch’s style. I don’t think this was a well crafted metaphor, nor a meaningful one compared to other abstract autobiographies, but for some, the unique tone and voyeurism could hit just right. Uncanny valley for sure, but Blue Velvet is a much better fever dream.
Recommendations
I like to remember things my own way.