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I’ve never seen a David Lynch movie until watching Mulholland Drive, and wow, it was a confusing ride. It feels like a series of surreal vignettes with an ever-growing cast of side characters and subplots. Starting off coherent at first, it all soon dissolves into dream logic, and there was definitely a specific breaking point where I stopped being able to tell past from present or reality from imagination. It reminded me quite strongly of the movie Persona.

As someone who’s never seen a film by this famous director, I was curious about what makes his style so famous. I was pleased by some interestingly patient lingering shots and some intriguing ambient background sounds. In general the sound design really stood out. It’s very deliberate. Oddly, I kept recognizing some of the stock sound effects from classic Source engine games like Half-Life 2, which kept yanking me out of the movie. Maybe perfect for a film about shifting realities?

Something I disliked was how toxic the queer representation felt. Also, at one point, characters say “Mulholland Drive” about six times in a row, which annoyed me more than it probably should have.

Honestly, I’m not completely certain how much I actually enjoyed Mulholland Drive, but I probably won’t forget it. The ending was wild; I can see why so many people obsess over this film, even if I’m not sure what really happened. If you like moody, confusing, and dreamlike movies, it’s worth a watch!

Seven cowboys out of ten. 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

I watched Gozu, a surreal Japanese horror film directed by Takashi Miike.

The story follows a low-level yakuza tasked with eliminating his unhinged partner, but the former loses track of the latter’s body. From this point on, the plot spirals into an unexplainable series of uncomfortable phenomena. Basically, the protagonist happens upon a series of characters who disturbingly overstep each others’ boundaries.

The cinematography is masterful. Despite the washed-out color palette typical of early 2000s films, the creative camera work and unique compositions stood out. I also did appreciate some of the characters’ quirky outfits and costumes, which were a key part of the whole movie’s off-kilter vibe.

It’s a mostly quiet movie, light on music but meticulous in its ambient sounds. Certain scenes feature creepy background noises which I thought were very well-made and unique. This sparseness of sound adds to the unsettling atmosphere, intensifying the most surreal moments.

I have to say this, in the form of a warning: much of the movie’s humor and horror leans heavily on sexual oddities and body fluids - milk features prominently - which I personally found more repulsive than entertaining for the most part. I suppose the film’s willingness to push anatomical and thematic boundaries might speak to some cultural differences in comfort levels. For me, some of these moments did detract from the overall enjoyment somewhat.

It’s high-quality, slippery, sloppy surrealism. I can recommend it to those who appreciate boundary-pushing films and have a strong stomach; not for the faint of heart.

Six milks out of ten.

🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

Visually, wow. The movie is packed with massive, meditative drone shots that soar over mountains, skim the edges of canyons, and hover around mysterious ruins and temples that have survived centuries of weather and human bumbling. The filmmakers successfully capture how tiny we are, tossing in scenes where cities and roads look like nothing compared to endless valleys and jagged mountain faces.

The film also zooms way in, showing close-ups of rocks and stones that look like pieces of sculpture: weird textures, wild colors, crumbling layers. I found it hypnotic to watch a rock shatter in ultra-slow-mo, the force and chaos of it all. Like a love letter to geology.

One thing I didn’t expect was how much it appears to explore the spiritual side of our relationship with the earth. Stone temples and crumbling ruins pop up between scenes of modern cities, power lines, and highways, highlighting how the stone outlasts everything. People, dreams…even entire civilizations. Architecton makes human achievement look both inspiring and pretty small in the face of geological time.

It’s temping to look for meaning in any film. What’s the message, though? It feels like the movie is deliberately resisting a tidy narrative or moral lesson. At times, it felt to me like the filmmakers are just stringing together beautiful images to see what sticks, daring you to find deeper meaning. Is it pretentious? Maybe. Maybe that’s the essence of visual poetry? You bring your own feelings, the film only provides a spectacle.

But then, just when I thought there’d be no words besides the whispers of the wind, there’s an “epilogue” (an epilogue to what? I don’t know) that’s almost out of place with the rest of the experience. Suddenly, there’s a speech about how limited earth’s resources are, and how we should build things that endure, and also prefer things that are actually beautiful. This is followed by a fascinating factoid: after water, concrete is the most used substance on earth by humans. (Cue a montage of cities being poured, block by block, into the landscape.)

So do I recommend this film? If you crave any kind of actionable suggestions, or to learn about a new and interesting concept to chew on, then maybe skip it. I mean I’m not sure whether this movie should be considered a documentary, though it’s definitely nonfiction.

If you’re content to stare slack-jawed at jaw-dropping landscapes, blasted rocks, temples older than history, and cities dwarfed by ancient mountains, this is straight-up visual candy. There’s definitely a taste of “Baraka” or “Samsara” to it. The kind of film you could show someone without needing to explain a thing. Sometimes, the rocks just speak for themselves…

Seven rocks out of ten.

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(French: La Planète sauvage; Czech: Divoká planeta, lit. ‘The Wild Planet’)

Fantastic Planet is an unforgettable French-language animated film from the early ’70s. The animation has an old-school, hand-crafted feel. The colors are notably quiet and faded and the lines are visibly hand-drawn, which gives it a distinctive charm. Some objects move too abruptly, but despite its flaws, the movie looks great and feels carefully put together.

The soundtrack is a definite highlight: pure 1970s, with lots of mellotron and fuzzy guitar. The music is so catchy that it’s been sampled by hip-hop artists like J Dilla, KRS-One, and Mac Miller.

Fantastic Planet is deeply weird and imaginative. The alien world really is full of strange creatures, unexplained phenomena, and unexplained phenomena, yet the movie feels consistent in its own surreal way. I especially loved the wildly creative outfits designed for some of the characters.

Beneath all the weirdness is a thoughtful story about oppression, exploring the dynamic between the tiny human “Oms” and the giant, indifferent Draag aliens. I appreciated the allegory about how we treat animals and others we consider lesser.

Overall, Fantastic Planet is at times odd and even a little ugly, but it’s also striking, original, and surprisingly influential. If you’re up for a psychedelic trip into a strange and beautifully unsettling world, I recommend it.

Eight planets out of ten.

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Trying to focus on a smaller range of hues…

Just using watercolor brushes

Goofing around, got carried away with colors and blending modes.

My first little experiment so far, playing with colors on the tablet. Made with Krita.