objectively a masterpiece, visually perfect, profound commentary on both small and large scale tragedy. but i feel a weird ideological indifference to the uh idk cyclical redundancy of its statements on identity and cinema. there's an infinite number of ways to interpret this movie and i somehow don't feel a strong connection to any of them. i swear i'm not trying to be miss contrarian like "oh Persona (1966) is overrated" i just crave a different kind of buzz and hey maybe in a different headspace i would love this who knows. file it away for later i guess
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Mulholland Drive 2001
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
this is like. the final fantasy 10 of david lynch films. more streamlined in form without losing any of the depth. thematically i see it as a female companion piece to lost highway where both protags lose themselves in a fantasy of being not terrible with women, but i prefer this one slightly for cohesiveness' sake. falls victim to some aspects of the typical "just a dream" narrative like minor details that inexplicably go nowhere, but it sticks the landing in the end. also 2 chicks banging each other? mr. lynch i tip my hat to you sir!
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The Virgin Suicides 1999
teen romcom love interests experience a unique horror unlike any other film archetype. 5 self-aware characters ready to escape their own movie
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