Casablanca as a Relic of World War II

There have been many films detailing World War II from a variety of different perspectives, but many of the best known films were made after the war ended. Movies like Saving Private Ryan and Das Boot were even made decades after the war ended. Many of these films therefore have a very retroactive perspective on the war. A film like Saving Private Ryan, made in the 1990's, depicts the war as it is perceived by filmmakers looking back on what happened. This is what makes a film like Michael Curtiz's Casablanca stand out from the others.

Unlike many other iconic war films, Casablanca was released in 1943 while the war was still happening. Many have noted how the film is a thinly-veiled allegory for America's reluctance to join the war effort, but it is also an incredible historical document on the grounds that it offers insight into the war from a contemporary standpoint. In other words, to understand Casablanca is to understand how World War II would have been perceived while it was still happening. In some ways, the film is rather progressive for the era, presenting not only a strong female lead but also also providing work for a black actor in Sam, a character who is treated with respect throughout.

Casablanca's obvious dislike for the Nazis also makes it a very agreeable film today, largely because most people today would agree that the Nazis were horrible people who needed to be stopped. However, on some level the film's depictions of the Nazis has not aged so well. This is most notable through the fact that the film continues to mention "concentration camps" despite seemingly not knowing what the term actually means. Victor Lazlo claims to have been held in a "concentration camp" and the characters speak of the danger of being thrown into "concentration camps" but judging by the dialogue it sounds more like they are speaking of Nazi political prisons than actual concentration camps.

A Nazi political prison would not have been much better, but it is still very different from a concentration camp. The former would have been a place for political prisoners, i.e. anyone who defied the Nazis. The latter was a term used to describe multiple horrific camps designed specifically for killing entire groups of people in massive numbers at a time. To provide a more cinematic analogy, imagine a contrast between Robert Bresson's A Man Escaped and Steven Spielberg's Schindler's List. The term "concentration camp" as used by the characters in Casablanca would today describe something one might expect to see in Schindler's List, a film about the Holocaust, but what is described sounds more like the type of prison depicted in A Man Escaped.

When seen today, the apparent misuse of the word "concentration camp" looks like a blatant oversight on the part of the filmmakers, but it does illustrate the mindset of a very different era. The actions of the Nazis are currently public knowledge. Thanks to the internet it is very easy to find photographs of concentration camps, and most people at some point in their lives get at the very least a general idea of the atrocities committed during the Holocaust, an event now remembered as one of history's darkest moments. However, this was not always the case, and much of what may be common knowledge today was not so obvious in 1943.

While the war was still going on, the actions of the Nazi party were in large part kept secret. For obvious reasons Hitler did not want the public to know about the ethically questionable activities that were going on behind closed doors, and this included the Holocaust. Any contemporary information on it outside of what was known only to the Nazi party would have been vague at best. All anyone really knew was that Hitler had a list of people to be "relocated" and that there were serious consequences for anyone who tried to hide a person who fit the list. Nobody would have known for sure precisely what happened to those people once they were taken. It was only at the end of the war in 1945, when Allied forces invaded Germany and discovered the concentration camps, that the public became aware of the mass genocide that was really going on.

The reason a phrase like "concentration camp" is so heavily used in the wrong context in Casablanca is literally because the filmmakers obviously did not know what it meant and misunderstood its intended definition. Very few people in Nazi-controlled territory had even the slightest idea of what a concentration camp was, America would have known even less. All they would have had to go on at most would have been vague rumours of the Nazis putting people into "concentration camps" without much more information on what they were or how they worked. Michael Curtiz could have easily misunderstood and took this term to mean a political prison.

Today, one might argue that this little detail seems like a strange oversight in an otherwise finely-crafted movie, and something to be dismissed simply as a product of the era. However, it is because this detail is a product of the era that it is important to bring it to the forefront. This slight error in the dialogue serves as a very clear window into the past and allows a glimpse into the mind of people who lived at the height of World War II and how they perceived the conflict around them. Casablanca is therefore very much a relic of World War II.

Love is a Killer

Every director has his or her own unique style. This is where the whole concept of auteur theory, first pioneered by French critics such as Francois Truffaut and, somewhat unfortunately, Jean-Luc Godard, originates. While it is debatable whether the director should in fact be considered the "author" of a film (one could make a good case for why that label should instead go to the screenwriter), there are patterns to be observed among a director's work. No two directors are the same (though often they may influence each other), and once you know their style it becomes easy to recognize.

In the case of these early critics, they learned to see patterns in the films of Hollywood directors like John Ford, Howard Hawks, and Alfred Hitchcock. Today, anyone well versed in their films could easily distinguish a John Carpenter film from a movie by David Lynch or Quentin Tarantino. What those patterns are will vary. It may be in terms of the content of their films, such as Tarantino's use of gore. It could be in the environment such as Carpenter's love for claustrophobic environments. It could be in terms of narrative, such as Tarantino's trademark of non-linear storytelling. It could be in terms of themes, such as Lynch's habit of making films about seemingly ideal communities that turn out to have a hidden darker side. It might even be as simple as the director having certain actors they routinely cast, such as Tarantino and Harvey Keitel or Lynch and Laura Dern.

However, for every director, their style has to develop. For this reason, it is often interesting to look back at their earlier films and compare it to their later work. In some cases it is more obvious than others. Reservoir Dogs is more clearly a Tarantino film than Dark Star is a Carpenter film. Still, there is one director who has eluded such easy categorization: Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick was such as versatile director that his style is almost impossible to clearly define. He had ideas that occasionally popped up, certain forms of iconography that would become trademarks, such as the use of long and narrow spaces and the famous "Kubrick stare". However, this does not start to appear until fairly late in his career.

Killer's Kiss was Kubrick's second feature film. Prior to this one, Kubrick's only feature film had been the independently-produced Fear and Desire (a film he would later try to disown to the point where it would not see a legal DVD release until over a decade after his death). Killer's Kiss is a bit more straight forward compared to Fear and Desire, and was made with better production values. It might not be Kubrick's strongest film, but it was the movie responsible for bringing him into the mainstream and launch a directorial career that would last for 44 years.

Davy Gordon (Jamie Smith) is a washed-up boxer trying to figure out what he wants to do with himself. He still takes parts in fights from time to time (leading to what would have been a very daring fight scene for the era). He is thinking about going home to see his parents on their ranch, but then he hears his neighbor Gloria Price (Irene Kane) screaming after an encounter with her boss Vincent Raphello (Frank Silvera), who is basically committing sexual harassment (at a time when that sort of behavior was easier to get away with). Davy finds himself sympathizing with Gloria, who has had a difficult life, and decides to help after quickly falling in love. However, Vincent does not take kindly to this development, and tries to pull them apart, even going as far as to frame Davy for murder.

It is definitely hard to spot any of Kubrick's early trademarks here. It certainly does not look like a film by the man who would go on to direct films like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Barry Lyndon, and Eyes Wide Shut. There isn't much of the narrow corridors, the bathroom scenes, or even the famed "Kubrick Stare" that would become associated with his later films. There is, however, one thing about Killer's Kiss that does resemble Kubrick's other films, if a very general aspect: it demonstrates his constant refusal to conform to standard filmmaking practices. In that sense, this film is actually quite impressive.

Fear and Desire was first released in 1953, with Killer's Kiss following two years later. At the time Kubrick was getting started, the Hollywood Studio System was still in full effect. It would not be for much longer; the Production Code had already been relaxed with America's entry World War II and a series of legal cases over the following years would bring it to an end, but when Killer's Kiss first premiered the rules were still in place. Hollywood had very specific rules about how to structure a film, this being the "Classical Model" that is still dominant today (story comes first). The Motion Picture Production Code might not have been as strictly enforced as it was during 1934, but there were still rules about what could and could not be depicted. There was more lenience towards violence, but not so much regarding sex.

Kubrick was never the kind of man who liked to stick to rules. While he would have had to work within the rules of Hollywood filmmaking, he also liked to take chances. Beginning in the 1960's, there was more room for him to do his own thing, but in the 1950's, he had to follow the rules. Killer's Kiss can certainly be considered a classical film, but for 1953 it would have actually been quite daring. The one scene in which Davy is shown boxing is very intense for the era in which it was made (and it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume Martin Scorsese took some inspiration from it in Raging Bull). There is also the fact that the plot is basically about a female dancer being sexually harassed by her boss (even if the words "sexual harassment" are never used), at a time when sex of any kind was forbidden (the Production Code included a long list about how filmmakers were not allowed to address "illicit sex"). The fact that said boss is cast as the villain because of his actions could also be seen as fairly progressive for the era. Then there are other odd stylistic choices, such as juxtaposing shots of a ballet performance over Gloria's narration of her troubled childhood, which seem peculiar but simultaneously make it interesting.

Perhaps the most daring element is the climactic fight scene between Davy and Vincent, which happens in a mannequin warehouse. The warehouse in question is filled with nude mannequins; many of them women with exposed breasts. Kubrick would later go on to show plenty of living nude women (perhaps most notably in A Clockwork Orange and Eyes Wide Shut), but nudity was frowned upon even before the Production Code was in place. Most of the "controversial" films it aimed to suppress only hinted at sex through innuendos. The Production Code itself even states that "Complete nudity is never permitted. This includes nudity in fact or in silhouette, or any lecherous or licentious notice thereof by other characters in the picture." Despite all this, Kubrick was able to shoot a scene in a room where the characters are literally surrounded by fully-naked (if artificial and unmoving) bodies. This was an extremely daring move that could have easily gone wrong, and the fact that Kubrick even had the nerve to consider it is admirable.

Ultimately, Killer's Kiss isn't Kubrick's greatest achievement, but it is still worth seeing. As an introduction to Kubrick, it works, as it shows just how creative he could get and how he never wanted to let anything interfere with his vision. The story might be simple compared to his later work, but it is impressive just for how daring it would have been during the 1950's. The fact that Kubrick had the nerve to take as many chances as he did is admirable.

Just What Exactly is Film Noir?

Film noir is a subject I hear so many people talk about, but I sometimes fail to fully comprehend. I have in the past made attempts to study this elusive area of film, but usually in vain. It is a tricky thing to study largely because no one source seems to fully agree on just what exactly defines it. There are patterns among film noir, but hardly ones as obvious as those of westerns or musicals. Depending on who you talk to, film noir may be labelled as either a genre, a trend, a style, or a method of filming. It may also encompass films within a specific period of time or movies made even today. In this article, I hope to use a mix of my understandings, my classes, and my own observations in an effort to provide a clear and concise definition of just what precisely makes a "film noir".

The concept of "film noir" is typically associated with Hollywood films from the early 1940's into the late 1950's. There are plenty of films that are considered "noir" and others that are less consistently labelled, and there is a good reason why. You see, at the time, Hollywood filmmakers saw themselves as making crime pictures or thrillers. It wasn't until the 1960's that French critics began studying these old movies and spotted patterns between them, hence the reason why this phenomenon is given a French name (which translates roughly as "Black Film" or "Dark Film").

The phenomenon that would become "film noir" was initially born as a result of America's entry into World War II. Part of it had to do with filmmakers taking advantage of studio regulations being relaxed (to allow more "realistic" depictions of the war), but it was mainly done out of necessity. The American war effort needed all the resources it could get, and so production companies had to conserve materials. This meant lower budgets, and working in smaller sets built specifically for the movie. Location shooting could only be done at night.

Typical film noirs of this period in history were very dark in tone. They generally used an urban environment and featured a very bleak atmosphere. Story conventions varied widely, and contrary to popular belief there did not always have to be a mystery. However, themes of crime, punishment, and redemption are abundant in most films of this sort. The central characters are anti-heroes, usually men though exceptions exist, who in over their head in some sort of criminal activity.

When I say "dark" I mean it both literally and figuratively. Film noirs are dark in tone, but often employ minimalist lighting as well. "Noir" translates directly as "black", and indeed there is a lot of that to be found. Movies of this sort are often shot in black and white, relying on sharp contrasts between light and shadow. The darkness is emphasized by the fact that a lot of film noirs were shot at night (due to studio restrictions at the time) and in claustrophobic spaces such as alleys.

There are examples of iconography that seem to be consistent within film noir. The aforementioned alleyways are one, along with dark and empty streets. This phenomenon might be the second-most common thing fedoras are associated with (after Indiana Jones), as they are commonly worn by the men along with suits under trenchcoats, while the women wore fancy dresses. The common weapon of choice was usually the revolver, and both men and women will usually smoke at least a thousand cigarettes over the course of the film with some emphasis on the resulting trails of smoke.

The first, and arguably most famous noir archetype is the private detective. It is hard to say with complete certainty how often they actually appeared in noir films, but they make up several of the best known. Typically, this detective is a loner; bitter and cynical. He (it is usually a man) usually begins taking on a seemingly simple case that quickly spirals out of control. Before long he gets mixed up in criminal activity, probably including a murder or two, and can only get out by getting to the bottom of everything and playing the crooks involved. This one goes as far back as one of the earliest film noirs, with Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon.

The second major archetype is a character known as the "femme fatale". The way this character can be used also varies widely. Sometimes they are more sympathetic, sometimes they are outright evil, and sometimes they constantly veer the line between both extremes. In any case, she (it is usually a woman) is a tough character who knows what she wants and will go to any means necessary to get it. Usually she is extremely beautiful, and likes to take advantage of her male-dominated society by appealing to the sexuality of the men as a way of manipulating them to her own ends. Some femme fatales will even resort to murder if it gets them their way.

A lesser-known but still fairly common protagonist in noir films is the man trying to escape his past. Act of Violence and Out of the Past both involve a protagonist trying to live an ordinary life in order to redeem themselves of a prior misdeed, only to get into trouble when someone involved with that past manages to find them. Generally there is less of a mystery here, and the goal is instead a quest for true redemption and escape, resulting in their unfortunate demise.

Sometimes the main characters can even be police officers just doing typical police work. For instance, have you ever wondered what Bones might look like it was made in the studio era and didn't have as many strong female leads? No. Well, too bad, because that's basically what you get with the 1950 film noir Mystery Street, more or less a police procedural about cops and forensics experts trying to solve a woman's murder after finding her body.

Then of course there are the darkest anti-heroes of film noir. These are people who despite being ostensibly the hero, are just as bad as the villains, if not worse. One of the best examples I could offer, and interestingly a rare female protagonist, is Margot Shelby of the 1946 film Decoy. This character is crooked in every sense of the word, constantly double-crossing everyone she meets including people she has known for years. Among other things she goes out of her way to revive an old friend executed by gas chamber just so she can kill him once he tells her what she wants to know, and deliberately runs over an accomplice just so she won't have to share the money she is after.

Speaking of money, that is another theme to these film noirs. Often the murders committed turn out to be all about something that seems petty, and in the end, it turns out not to be worth it. In The Maltese Falcon, people double cross and kill each other over the titular artifact but when it finally appears it turns out to be fake. After all the trouble that Margot goes through in Decoy, she dies of a gunshot wound in front of a bunch of policemen and the box she thought had the money turns out to have a note essentially saying "Yeah, I saw your betrayal coming. I'm not giving you my cash!"

Finally, the concept of "film noir" is typically associated with a specific point in history, but precisely what movies qualify as "film noir" is a more complicated manner. Casablanca is one that is sometimes labelled as a film noir, but others instead argue that it is more of a "proto-noir", or rather a film that helped to develop the conventions of what would later become film noir. The Maltese Falcon is often considered one of the earliest film noirs, but it was also made before the strict rules of material conservation would allow the phenomenon to develop.

Matters are complicated more when one looks at the issue of timing. The phenomenon we now know as film noir is often associated with the 40's and 50's, but is it confined to that point in history? There are plenty of later films such as Chinatown, Blade Runner, Angel Heart, Mulholland Drive, and Sin City that all incorporate elements of film noir. There are some who would in fact argue that true "film noir" only includes films of this particular point in time and that anything later is "neo-noir" that merely pays homage to or draws from classical film noir.

I would disagree with this notion. The term "film noir" refers to a specific tone of storytelling, and in that sense could be considered a style rather than a full genre. Even classical film noirs encompass a wide variety of genres including the detective story (The Maltese Falcon, The Big Sleep), the crime thriller (Out of the Past, Act of Violence), the gangster film (Decoy), and the police procedural (Mystery Street, The Big Combo). It's not really a genre in itself so much as a means of approaching a genre, often but not always crime-related.

Taking that rationale into account, the concept of "film noir" can be applied to any genre as long as it has at least some of the right attributes. In the 1940's it was typically done with crime pictures because that was what was popular back then, but there is no reason it could not fit with other genres. Blade Runner has a noir-ish atmosphere applied to a science fiction setting. Angel Heart is a horror film that is structured in the form of a classical detective story. Mulholland Drive uses the structure of a noir-ish mystery to create a surreal and subjective experience.

So in the end, what really is film noir? Well, based on my experiences with it so far, I would argue that it is an approach to storytelling that can be combined with many different genres in an effort to create a very specific feeling in the viewer. While it was most popular in Hollywood during the 40's and 50's, it is still used in more modern works to create a pessimistic vision of the world, and changes in studio regulations since that time have allowed filmmakers to experiment and find new ways to utilize it.

The key requirement is for the film to be very dark both literally and figuratively, typically using minimal lighting during the darker scenes. While it does not need to center around crime, it should involve a bleak vision of the world, one where both the heroes and villains are morally questionable and it becomes hard to tell right from wrong. A claustrophobic and choking urban environment also helps, as does a compelling anti-hero and a narrative that can invoke feelings of suspense in the viewer. I think this is about as clear a definition of film noir as I can get.

What Is My Problem, Man?

This is the second time it's happened now, first what happened with Fellini last year and now this. Why is it that I am such a big fan of David Lynch and yet it seems every time I watch something that obviously inspired him I can't stand it. This time my Cinema Studies class got kicked off with the movie Sunset Boulevard, a film which I understood to be a favorite of Lynch's. I also knew Billy Wilder was a good director, considering how much I enjoyed Some Like it Hot.

I wanted to like this movie, but in the end it ultimately proved to be really hard to sit through and I spent most of it just waiting for the darn thing to end. I probably would have gotten completely lost if I hadn't had the foresight to look at Wikipedia's summary of what happens. There was also a major plot hole that bothered me: it is made clear that Joe is dead when the movie begins (as opposed to simply being wounded), so how exactly is he narrating the story? The only thing that really seemed to make the film worthwhile was to spot the little things that Lynch managed to pick up in his much better movies.

In particular, it quickly became clear that Sunset Boulevard had to be a major inspiration behind David Lynch's masterpiece Mulholland Drive, something that becomes clear right from the opening credits. The two of them are structured very similarly, right down to the idea of using a street sign in place of a title card. They even both have similar titles, with the two films being named after actual roads found in Hollywood.

There are other little parallels as well. I personally could not help noticing that both films had a major female character named Betty, and she was even involved in a tricky love affair. On this front, Lynch was able to be a bit more daring due to the timing of Mulholland Drive. These relationships involved betrayal and deception (although Lynch's betty was referred to as "Diane" during the scenes showing that relationship). Sunset Boulevard's is the more straight forward of the two, where the romance between Betty and Joe is complicated by her engagement and his... questionable relationship to Norma Desmond.

David Lynch was able to be a bit more daring with Mulholland Drive, touching on a more controversial issue by making Betty a lesbian. In her case, as we see at the very end, Betty/Diane had been in a relationship with Rita/Camilla Rhodes, and was crushed when she was invited to a party and watched her friend kiss another woman while a man announced his engagement to her (with hints that Camilla had been using sex as a way to move up the ranks). Betty/Diane goes on to hire a hitman to kill Rita/Camilla. Fittingly enough, Sunset Boulevard also ends with a frustrated and unstable Norma shooting Joe dead.

Hollywood and, by extension, the filmmaking scene are also both major elements for both. Mulholland Drive was arguably Lynch's first movie to really explore the world of movie-making (a theme he would later revisit in Inland Empire), but even though it is not the central focus, the whole thing provides a strong background to the main action. One of the main characters is an aspiring actress trying to make her first big break into the business, while by interesting contrast, Sunset Boulevard's Norma Desmond is a washed-up actress trying to get back into the business. In both films there is also a sub-plot that comes from a supporting character trying to make a film with some difficulty (Betty in Sunset Boulevard and Adam in Mulholland Drive).

I can't quite figure out why this is happening to me. First Fellini and now a respected Hollywood Classic from a director I know is talented. Why is it that whenever I see something that clearly inspired Lynch I can't seem to stand it and yet I still enjoy his movies. Mulholland Drive obviously draws from Sunset Boulevard on so many levels, so why is it I still enjoy the former but not the latter?

The parallels I have traced are probably just the tip of the iceberg, so what is it that makes him work so much better than the guy who inspired him? Because I am such a big fan of Lynch, and I know Sunset Boulevard was a favorite of his, I really wanted to like it, but I couldn't. What is my problem, man? What's wrong with me?

David Lynch on Sunset Boulevard, with a cow.

Halloween Horror: Angel Heart

When I talk to people about horror movies, this is a title that always seems to come up, so it should come as no surprise that it seemed an obvious choice when I decided to start Halloween Horror. Out of the horror films I've seen, Angel Heart, directed by Alan Parker (Midnight Express, Fame, Pink Floyd The Wall, Angela's Ashes) is quite possibly one of the most disturbing. It is also a truly unique horror film, as I have yet to find anything even remotely similar in nature, which makes it all the more complex, intelligent, and above all, terrifying.

Mickey Rourke plays the role of Harry Angel, a Sam Spade-esque private eye and everyday man living in 1950's Brooklyn. He receives a new case from a mysterious client named Louis Cypher. The case involves Harry investigating the disappearance of a singer named Johnny Favorite, who has not been heard from in twelve years and who apparently owes Cypher for something he did to help his career. He agrees to take the case, but things quickly spiral out of control.

One by one, people who knew Johnny begin turning up dead, and all the evidence points toward Harry as the killer. As the bodies pile up and Harry faces the electric chair, he finds himself in a desperate struggle to track down the real killer and clear his name. The investigation takes on various twists and turns, and without giving away the reveal, it becomes clear that there is something much darker at play.

If that description sounded more like the plot of a classical film noir than a horror movie, that hardly comes as a surprise. Angel Heart is clearly influenced by the film noir of the 40's and 50's and in some ways functions as a tribute similar to Chinatown. Unlike Chinatown, however, Angel Heart is very much a horror story at its core, even if it uses a classical detective story as a means to unravel that horror.

It is a very different kind of horror film, though. There is gore when it is needed but for the bulk of the movie the horror is purely psychological, and comes in large part from the general atmosphere. The opening scene alone has a very bleak tone to it, but as the film progresses there is an increasingly overwhelming sense of dread, all preparing you for the reveal of the true horror at the very end. When we finally get our questions answered in the finale, we are plunged into the realm of psychological horror the likes of which I don't think I have ever seen in anything else.

The acting is amazing. Mickey Rourke might just have one of the best performances of his career as Harry Angel, and Robert De Niro steals the show as Louis Cypher, who manages to be super-eerie just doing an impressin of Martin Scorsese. In fact, De Niro was supposedly so good at the role that even Alan Parker got uncomfortable when shooting his scenes and allowed him to direct himself. Also curiously thrown into the mix is Lisa Bonet coming off of The Cosby Show, who also has quite possibly one of the most disturbingly surreal sex scenes ever put on film.

In addition to the atmosphere, there is a fair bit of disturbing surrealism throughout Angel Heart. Most of it makes sense by the time you get to the end, but even then this may be a rare case where what you imagine is nowhere near as terrifying as what the film eventually delivers on a purely psychological level. A lot of the fear comes from the little things, where their meaning only becomes clear when you finally learn what's really going on (this movie manages to make the simple act of eating a hard-boiled egg seem disturbing).

Now I imagine like me, a lot of my readers are a bit jaded by the lack of decent modern horror movies. There's been a few exceptions here and there but for the most part we've been getting nothing but generic Clichéd slashers and not a whole lot of intelligent horror stories. Still, that seems to be a common pitfall with horror, which makes the ones that are actually good stand out all the more.

Angel Heart is one of those few really good ones, a truly unique horror film of a very different sort. If you're fed up with modern Hollywood mucking up the horror genre, I would strongly recommend you seek out this 1987 masterpiece. You want true horror, I guarantee, without giving anything away, that this film will deliver, and I still have yet to see anything like it at all. Alan Parker's Angel Heart is one that I would definitely consider a must-see for any true horror fan.

The Meaning of Mulholland Dr. ...Sort Of

David Lynch's films have a reputation for their subjective nature and their puzzling narratives. One of Lynch's most famous movies, Mulholland Dr., is a great example. This was the first film of his I ever saw, and I went in expecting a straight forward film noir. Boy, was I mistaken, yet within a week or so I felt hungry for more, and picked up a copy of Blue Velvet, and from there every other Lynch movie I could obtain (I now own DVD copies of all of his feature films outside of Eraserhead).

Mulholland Dr. can be described as a surreal deconstruction of Hollywood. It does have a bit of a weird history, supposedly originating as a concept for a spin-off to Twin Peaks, a vision which was never realized due to the show's abrupt cancellation. Later on, Lynch tried to rework it into an independent series, and when he couldn't get the pilot picked up Lynch reworked it further into a standalone movie. The story plays out in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a classical film noir, but opts for a much more ambiguous and subjective tone, with a very enigmatic resolution.

Many have tried to explain the mystery behind this strange film's events. The most common explanation I have heard is that most of the story is a dream experienced by one of the main characters and the final act is her waking up to the reality they have tried to escape (similar to how I explained Lost Highway). I have a slightly different theory of my own. It's far from perfect, and may even be a bit radical, but I think it is an interesting idea to explore.

So my theory would suggest the main narrative starts with the events we see in the resolution. Diane Selwyn is in a relationship with fellow actress Camilla Rhodes, but there are implications that the latter may be in a relationship with the director. Later on, Diane has a "surprise" meeting with Camilla in the middle of the woods and they go to a party through an isolated path. The two of them are alone, and Camilla acts very affectionately toward Diane, the two of them holding hands as they walk. Diane is extremely happy, if a little nervous.

However, when they arrive, things don't turn out so great. Diane tries to be polite, but from the moment they confront Adam she seems left out. As they go inside, Diane is quickly separated from Camilla, who seems more interested in spending time around Adam. Diane tries to be polite about it but then she sees Camilla kissing another woman, and as if this wasn't painful enough for her she then hears Adam announce his engagement to Camilla.

As a result, Diane is understandably hurt. The betrayal of her lover has left her upset and not thinking straight, and in a fit of anger she decides to hire a hitman named Joe to kill her. Joe himself even warns Diane of what she is about to do, pointing out that as soon as she hands over the money "it's a done deal". Diane is certain this is what she wants, but it is clear she is not in her right mind. Shortly after, she starts to have second thoughts and is haunted by the inescapable guilt of her actions. The only thing she can do is reinvent herself, effectively killing herself and becoming an entirely new person. Whether she simply creates a new identity or escapes into delusion as I have speculated happens to Fred Madison in Lost Highway,  I can't say for sure, but the person that was once Diane is gone.

This brings us to the opening scene of the film, wherein the attempted hit is carried out. By chance, a group of drunk drivers crash into Camilla's car, killing her would-be assassins. Camilla herself survives, but at the cost of her memory. Outside of an understanding of English and vague recollections of something happening on Mulholland Dr., she has no memory of her past self. Meanwhile Diane, now under the name of Betty, had fled from Los Angeles but has since decided to return, acting under the guise of an upcoming actress.

Camilla, in her disoriented and confused state, finds herself wandering into an apartment complex where Betty just happens to be staying. She sneaks into Betty's apartment and adopts the name of Rita. When the two women meet again, Betty recognizes Camilla, or at the very least, sees something familiar about her. In essence, Betty, perhaps still haunted by her guilt (despite suppressing it under a cheerful attitude), sees an opportunity to make amends. 

The two women become exceptionally close, just as they were before everything went wrong, and they even begin to rekindle their old romance. However, Rita still has the problem of not knowing who she is. Diane, wanting to redeem herself, tries to slowly ease Rita into understanding the truth of Camilla piece by piece (if only on a subconscious level). Finally, after confessing their love, the two women decide to go somewhere, and end up at the mysterious Club Silencio, where a strange man demonstrates how recorded audio can be used to create illusions of things happening.

This finally inspires Rita to confront the truth, having been prepared for it by Betty. Rita opens the mysterious blue box, and finally learns who she really was. She learns about how much she hurt Betty and what the latter had done to her.

In the final moments of the movie, we see footage of both women together against the backdrop of Los Angeles, reunited at last. With both having confronted the past and realizing what they had done to each other, Betty and Rita--or if you rather Diane and Camilla, have forgiven each other and subsequently have another chance at their relationship.

This is far from a perfect interpretation of the movie. In fact it may well be full of problems I haven't considered. For the purposes of this theory I have focused exclusively on Betty and Rita, and it may be harder to tie in other parts of the movie. Still, I think it is an interesting out-of-the-box approach to look at Mulholland Dr. at least on some level as a story of redemption.