Stoopid Audience Member Me

David Lynch’s movies require an audience that may have to think, consider, and assemble the meaning and purpose of the movie. Things will not be explained. Events may not happen chronologically. Still more confusing, things may be presented as people remember them, not necessarily how they happened, to paraphrase Lost Highway.

Unfortunately, I am not a member of this intelligent audience that understands it is being co-opted into Mr. Lynch’s house of mirrors. I do not want to have to spend a lot of time during and after the movie trying to puzzle together the events of the film and the motivation or truthfulness of its characters. That is why I plan to watch all future David Lynch productions with Mr. Lynch himself. He will explain all plot points and hidden agendas and motivations of both the characters and himself in his movies. If he will not comply, he will be tortured.

I feel this is only fair, considering I have to watch his movies repeatedly just to understand some asshole is dreaming, and that he isn’t really talking to a midget who speaks backwards. David Lynch’s response might be some smart-ass comment, like, perhaps, “I’m not necessarily making movies for you.” Once I have laid down my eight dollars, Mr. Esoteric, you sure as hell are.

Leland Palmer murdered his daughter, not the evil spirit Bob. Stop fucking with the audience Mr. Lynch. I’m onto you. And if you don’t start being a little clearer in your narrative, you might have to answer to Mr. Happy and his bamboo splints.