Loved this when I first saw it upon theatrical release. It’s faded in my estimation since then—it and Wild at Heart seem, in my memory of them insistent in a way that his other work doesn’t. But rewatching it now it’s more clear what he was going for. The core emotional story is a clear dry run for Mulholland Drive, and watching it in the wake of that film can’t help but raise this deconstructed noir in its wake.
That said,…
"Laura Palmer's Ceiling Fan: The Movie."
And if you can't tell whether that's a compliment or a criticism? Congrats, neither can I.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Overstuffed and underbaked.
The movie starts strong, with a foreboding, suffocating atmosphere. It drags a bit in the middle, and then completely falls apart in the 3rd act.
Some notes:
- The film goes out of its way to set up the mystery of the murders as essentially a locked room mystery--we're repeatedly, definitively told that forensics says no one was in the house except the families. Then we get the expository flashbacks and nope, Alicia Witt's parked right next…
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