I felt obliged to see Mulholland Dr. because it was nominated for the best director Oscar. Although I like some of his movies (The Elephant Man, Blue Velvet), I don't seem to have acquired the taste for David Lynch, and frankly I'm not too bothered by that. So I'm not sure if it's him or me who's changed on Mulholland Dr. (I think it's him). I was surprised to like the movie at all, much less as much as I did. It actually has a coherent, fascinating story and minimal random weirdness, though it has a languid, floating feeling that's very Lynch but works this time. At about the two-hour mark, things start to get freaky, and there's some bizarre show going on in front of a red curtain, and I thought, "Aw shit, this is turning into Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me." But after about ten minutes, the freakiness coalesces into something that's not only comprehensible, but actually very clever and a perfect fit, and by the end of the movie, I understood all but a few bits of it, which is a major improvement from most Lynch films that have left me thinking, "What the hell...?"
Naomi Watts and Laura Elena Harring, the two leads, are terrific, and Lynch works in creepy cameos for a pair of Hollywood old-timers, Ann Miller and Lee Grant. He also gives Billy Ray Cyrus a brief part with about four lines, and poor ol' Billy Ray can't handle even that meager role. A smart, engaging, unusual film. (Originally it was supposed to be the pilot for a TV series, and I'm glad the series was never picked up, because I'm afraid it would have turned out like the Twin Peaks series: a great beginning that quickly descends into total weirdness and incomprehensibility.)
One of the few John Sayles films I hadn't seen, The Brother from Another Planet is a sweet, low-key film. Joe Morton stars as a gentle alien who crash-lands in New York and winds up in Harlem. He can't (or won't) speak, but his mild demeanor and his extraordinary ability to fix mechanical things just by touching them endear him to the locals, who adopt and protect him. He gradually finds a home, even love, among them.
Light humor is sprinkled throughout the film, although sometimes it goes a little overboard, like Sayles and David Strathairn's slapsticky men in black pursuing the alien (a good decade before Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones did it). You may recognized some of the players -- Strathairn, Tom Wright, Bill Cobbs -- from later Sayles' movies.
Since I haven't crammed any random thoughts into this review, here's one: I recently found out that the white-chocolate Lincoln is no longer in the lobby of the Marriott Park Wardman hotel. For those of you who may not have been to the hotel or read the Washington Post story, apparently the hotel chef decided after September 11 to do something to display his patriotism, and what he decided would best do this was a giant replica of the statue inside the Lincoln Memorial made of white chocolate. I'm not quite sure how this shows his deep love for his country -- it seems like something Wall Drug would do for July 4th each year. Anyway, as giant white-chocolate symbols of our country go, it was quite impressive, although after it had been around for a few months, the sickly sweet smell pervaded the lobby, chunks of chocolate had been broken off here and there, and some holes had been filled in with what looked suspiciously like spackle. I don't know what happened to it -- maybe too many people had dug out samples; maybe as the weather got warmer, it started to melt. But for a short, glorious time, it was the tackiest thing in Washington, except maybe for the illegitimate current occupant of the White House. We salute you, white-chocolate Lincoln, wherever you may be.
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