This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Michael’s review published on Letterboxd:
This review may contain spoilers.
I don't approach David Lynch intellectually anymore. I did when I first discovered him because he was weird and unlike anything I had seen before and I wanted to understand him. But honestly, non-intellectually, pretty much no director conjures up emotions for me the way he does. I keep coming back to the same scenes and not understanding why, like the "Kill the lights!" rehearsal scene near the end: full of so much beauty, nostalgia, strength, bitterness, hate, passion, artificiality, and longing even though it's a very simple and straightforward scene and almost nothing happens in it. Diane and Camilla aren't these distant figures to analyze: they're fleshed-out characters that I care for, whose pain (inflicted on each other and on themselves) resonates deeply throughout the film, always right at the forefront, independent of all the wacky postmodern stuff that caught my first glance.
This isn't a review I'm just having a lot of feelings right now srry