A straightforward, hokey plot unravels during the first third of Inland Empire to ground the viewer before a dive off the deep end. Actor Nikki Grace (Laura Dern) is cast as Susan Blue, an adulterous white trash Southerner, in a film that mimics too closely her actual life with an overbearingly jealous and dangerous husband. When Nikki and co-star Devon (Justin Theroux) learn that the cursed film project was earlier abandoned when its stars were murdered, the pair lose their grasp of reality. Nikki suffers a schizophrenic identity switch to Sue that lasts until nearly the film's end. Suspense builds as Nikki's alter ego sleuths her way through surreal situations to discover her killer, culminating in Sue's gnarly death on set. Sue's actions drag on because any sign of a narrative thread disappears due to idiosyncratic editing. Non-sensical scenes still captivate, however, such as when Sue stumbles onto the soundstage where she finds Nikki (herself) rehearsing for Sue's part. In this meta-film about identity slippage, Dern's multiple characters remind one of how a victim can become the hunter in their fight for survival. Lynch's portrayal of Nikki/Sue's increasing paranoia is, in its own confusion, utterly realistic. Laura Dern has created her own Lady Macbeth, undone by her guilt over infidelity. Even though Inland Empire is too long and too random, Laura Dern's performance coupled with Lynch's video experiments make it magical. --Trinie Dalton
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Editorial
Amazon.co.uk Review
Though Inland Empire's three hours of befuddling abstraction could try the patience of the most devoted David Lynch fan, its aim to reinvigorate the Lynch-ian symbolic order is ambitious, not to mention visually arresting. The director's archetypes recognizable from previous movies once again construct the film's inherent logic, but with a new twist. Sets vibrate between the contemporary and a 1950s alternate universe crammed with dim lamps, long hallways, mysterious doors, sparsely furnished rooms and, this time, a vortex/apartment/sitcom set where rabbit-masked humans dwell, and a Polish town where women are abused and killed. Instead of speaking backwards, mystic soothsayers and criminals speak Polish. Filmed on video, the film's look has the sinister, frightening feel of a Mark Savage film or a bootlegged snuff movie. Constant close-ups, both in and out of focus, make Inland Empire feel as if a stalker covertly filmed it.
Editorial
Synopsis
With INLAND EMPIRE, David Lynch--creator of such mind-bending works as ERASERHEAD and LOST HIGHWAY--delivers his most avant-garde, abstract, and impenetrable vision yet. A three-hour fever nightmare of a film, INLAND EMPIRE takes the basic structure of Lynch's 2001 masterpiece, MULHOLLAND DRIVE, and spins it even further out of control. A blonde actress (Laura Dern) is preparing for her biggest role yet, but when she finds herself falling for her co-star (Justin Theroux), she realizes that her life is beginning to mimic the fictional film that they're shooting. Adding to her confusion is the revelation that the current film is a remake of a doomed Polish production, 47, which was never finished due to an unspeakable tragedy. And that's the only the beginning. Soon, a seemingly endless onslaught of indescribably bizarre situations flash across the screen: a sitcom featuring humans in bunny suits, a parallel story set in a wintry Poland, a houseful of dancing hookers, screwdrivers in stomachs and much, much more. By the time the film's electrifying closing-credit sequence arrives, even diehard Lynch fans will be gasping for air. Laura Dern's multi-fractured performance is downright heroic. She gives the film the human grounding that it so desperately needs. Not for the fragile or timid, INLAND EMPIRE is a full-blown assault to the senses.
Plain awful
Review date: 2008-08-22 Rating: 2 out of 10
After the masterpiece that was Mullholland Drive, comes Inland Empire, David Lynch's worst film. The first half hour is semi-coherent, as Laura Dern plays an actress living in a very wealthy mansion in California (and with a very jealous husband) set to star in some film. Her costar is Justin Theroux and the director Jeremy Irons. The feature seems to have been made in the past, but it was reportedly stopped after its main actors were murdered. This is the start, and as the half hour approaches, the films collapses into absurdity, full of unconnected surreal vignettes that test the patience of the audience. For instance, Dern's character suddenly becomes a street hooker (is the actress dreaming she was a hooker or is it the other way around? does anybody cares?). As a twenty minute short, this material might be OK, but as a three hour feature this is simply unbearable. Even Lynch's previous bizarre feasts (Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks, Lost Highway) look like a model of lineal clarity as compared to this.