Lost Highway

*“Funny how secrets travel **l'd start to believe **If I were to bleed **Thin skies, the man chains his hands held high Cruise me blonde **Cruise me, babe **A blond belief beyond, beyond, beyond **No return, no return *I'm deranged” I knew this would be an absolute masterpiece as soon as the opening titles came on and I heard “I’m Deranged” by David Bowie. What starts as a creeping, shadowy noir piece, steps into the dark void and comes out transformed into a fantasy retreat of pure evil. The dread, lust and subconscious rattling of a man held prisoner by his own inadequacy. Jealous paranoia and impotence fueling the adolescent violence that laid dormant. We’re gradually speeding into the abyss of an abuser’s own delusions, until we reach that highway that makes him disappear and takes us with him. As with all things Lynch, the abstractions don’t neatly fit into a singular bulb that illuminates the room, rather they bounce all around, sharply hitting different mirrors and windows, refracting their ideas all around the created space, breathing life and light, with a more fractured semblance of meaning, into it. Beyond the primary fugue-state of imagined heroism, I see an exploration of shattered manhood, the effects of pornography, the denial and guilt of the abusive voyeur, all coalescing to paint a vivid nightmare of repressed monstrosity. Not surprised to see all the confusion surrounding what it’s “about”, but much like Mulholland Drive, once you unlock one single piece of it, the whole thing reveals itself in a pretty satisfying way. The two films are so similar, yet also somehow twisted inversions of each other. Both also allow an escape from the confines of narrative specificity and stand as monuments of concentrated visual, tonal and psychological mastery. The final minutes and images of Mulholland Drive induce in me an indescribable flurry of emotions, always leaving me feeling like I’ve witnessed something far beyond my reach, beautiful and harrowing. Sheer awe, ecstasy and terror. Lost Highway achieves the same effect, the titular highway wrapping around itself into circular oblivion. Instant addition to my all time favorites. David Lynch, forever the best.