Re-Imagining Noir: David Lynch's Mulholland Drive

Centering the film on two women and largely drawing on the ‘Hollywood’ experience, David Lynch wrote and directed a brilliant example of Postmodern Noir. While it’s nearly impossible to tie up the loose ends into a coherent piece, Mulholland Drive is an ever-rewarding film. With each exposure to the coarse realities and delightful fantasies Lynch constructed, the viewer is tempted to develop an answer to the question: What just happened?
As a result of this, my intention is neither to explain the events of the film nor is it to derive meaning from the work; however, it is impossible to avoid giving certain interpretations—the subject is Mulholland Drive. My focus instead is on the narrative devices Lynch employed to tell the convoluted tale of a Hollywood reject. The film is largely the fantasy world constructed by Diane Selwyn; she is known as Betty in the dream. Distorting many of the “real” aspects of her life just before her suicide, she creates a world worth living in. The director does not attempt to hide this fact from his audiences; before the credits role the camera closes in on a pillow over which the soundtrack is that of someone sleeping; also, Betty refers to Los Angeles as a “dreamplace” (Mulholland Drive). Many of the narrative elements of Mulholland Drive are torn from the pages of Neo-Noir—especially that of an inconclusive ending, or at least an ending without closure—however, other elements are not limited to that of the Noir, but are generally associated with Postmodernity in film.
On the subject of closure, and perhaps an explanation for the lack there of, as in several of his prior works, Lynch develops a story corrupted by the the limitations of not only the narration’s focalization but one of the principle characters as well. These limitations of the narrative are a result of the point of view—Diane’s imagination. Almost the entirety of the film is composed of Diane’s dream; the vignettes all appear to be non sequitur. This provides for a de-centering of the narrative itself. Because the story is told in a non-linear fashion, key moments in the story become lost in their surroundings, a nonsensical dreamscape. Through Lynch’s use of symbolism and his placement of objects, one may be able to infer a ‘true’ chronology; however, strong arguments can be made in favor of any number of time-lines.
In addition to Lynch, many Neo-Noir auteurs include a character who is afflicted with some kind of limitation. In Mulholland Drive, this character is Rita, “an amnesiac” who “epitomizes the vagueness of conceptual borders, confusion of place, and incoherence that have become staples of Lynch’s aesthetics” (Hudson 20). She drives the story forward by thrusting Betty, and the viewers, into a mystery—who is Rita? Betty becomes a detective, focuses on Rita’s past, and practically abandons her plans to become a movie star. The film retains certain self-reflexive characteristics in their pursuit, which help deepen, and further delude, the narrative. One example of this is when Betty and Rita call a number found in Rita’s purse; “It’s strange to be calling yourself,” Betty tells Rita just before they reach the answering machine with Betty’s own voice(Mulholland Drive). As the film progresses, the two of them fall in love.
It is hard to determine which one of them can be classified as the femme fatale. In classic Film Noir, the femme fatale uses her sexuality endanger the protagonist for her own benefit. Two reasons for the inconclusiveness are 1) that neither girl attempts to put the other in danger and 2) the lack of seduction. Though Betty is acting as the detective, she often has to convince Rita to continue their research; Rita, however, is the impetus of their investigation. In the case of Mulholland Drive Betty and Rita proceed toward intercourse through their reciprocal desire, not coercion. The displacement and obscuration of the femme fatale Lynch develops is a key example of the film’s Neo-Noir genre.
This displacement, of course, only applies to Diane’s fantasy. In reality, the bitter and unfriendly world of Diane Selwyn leads the viewer to a better determining of the femme fatale: Camilla Rhodes. Rita’s real world counterpart is unethical and heartless—effectively the opposite of how she appears in the dream. Though only a few scenes of reality are presented, Camilla’s are extremely revealing. One in particular takes place on the set of The Sally North Story—a fictional film being directed by Adam Kesher. The director is explaining to one of the male actors how to act in a specific scene; when he stands in for the actor to show him how he wants it done, he kisses Camilla and calls for everyone to leave the set and to shut the lights. This shows viewers her ability to achieve success, not by way of her talent, through seduction. Just after Kesher shouts, “Clear the set,” she asks him, “Can Diane stay;” presented here is her first act of cruelty: subjecting Diane to her sexual encounter with the director (Mulholland Drive). In Camilla’s last scene, she kisses another woman and announces her engagement to Adam, despite Diane’s display of anguish.
All that in mind, Diane is not quite the ingenue she concocted in her fantasy. In reality she is psychologically deranged; in the film’s last scenes, she pays a hitman to murder Camilla and commits suicide. On many internet forums, the film is argued to be a fantasy she escapes into prior to the suicide, and this re-appropriation of images and concepts is certainly the patchwork of a person mentally unwell. As her reality is depicted, she is seen in a shabby apartment, interacting with an ex-girlfriend, crying and masturbating, and talking about her life in L.A.. Through these instances viewers get short but powerful insights into Diane Selwyn. Her suicide is directly the result of her life’s unexpectedly awful path: she simply couldn’t live any longer.
Interestingly, as the film depicts her last moments viewers see Diane externalizing her problems. Just before she runs into her bedroom and shoots herself, she is chased by an elderly couple who yell and reach for her. For the viewer, this externalization of purely internal problems correlates with Betty’s experience at The Club Silencio. As the entertainer is announcing “No hay banda” and talking about the artificiality of the show the club had just presented, Betty realizes her whole existence has been fake (Mulholland Drive). The scene culminates with “Llorando” being performed by Rebekah Del Rio. When the performer collapses in the middle of the song and it continues to play, Betty discovers a little blue box inside her purse. The box represents reality, and once it is opened the viewer plunges into the hell that is Diane’s life.
The Club Silencio also functions as a key element of both Film Noir and Postmodern Noir. Because of the umbrous atmosphere and types of people who frequent them, nightclubs often play a pivotal role in the Noir genre. In this case, the nightclub acts as a catalyst to Betty’s acknowledgment of her existence. Taking her to The Club Silencio, Rita forces Betty to realize herself, to stop lying to herself. The room is dark and most of the seats are empty; additionally, this is one of the few scenes that takes place at night. This further emphasizes its Noir influence, and as Betty and Rita take off for the club at two in the morning Betty’s dream begins to sour. The nightclub effectively marks the film’s transition from fantasy into reality.
Along with other seedy settings, the nightclub has become a standard of the genre; in Mulholland Drive, Lynch also includes a motel. In the dream, Adam leaves his wife and stays in Cookie’s motel—a dilapidated place the owner personally runs. The same evening Adam arrives, Cookie comes to his room, tells him that he’s out of money and that he’s the focus of someone’s surveillance. After calling his assistant, she informs him that The Cowboy needs to speak with him. The conversation between Adam and The Cowboy is another scene that takes place at night. Though they are standing on a range, the lighting effects allude to that of Film Noir. As Adam approaches the gate, a light flickers on and off for about thirty seconds, and when The Cowboy arrives the light stays on. Once he walks away from Adam, the light turns off, leaving him alone and confused in the dark.
The aforementioned surveillance is another key aspect of Postmodern Noir; often used in conjunction with stories about detection and investigation, surveillance in the Postmodern age has intensified. Throughout the film there are scenes implying the lack of control a director has over his own film. Aside from commenting on the Hollywood nightmare, Lynch portrays these nearly transcendental figures as gods. “Then we’ll . . . shut everything down,” one man says to his boss; the purely terrified delivery of these lines implies the sheer power of the collective (Mulholland Drive). Combined with the Castigliane brothers, an implication that a ‘higher order’ determines everything is made. Feeding into the obsession with conspiracy many Postmodern authors and auteurs use, Lynch allows the audience to draw their own conclusion as to the extent of the power of this group.
Though there are several other examples and elements of Postmodern Noir in Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, the aforementioned points seem most relevant. He employs several filmic devices to distinguish Mulholland Drive as a noir—particular lighting effects, shots that are out of focus or grainy, and highly stylized camera angles among them. As a storyteller, Lynch fully explores the realm of Neo-Noir.


Works Cited
Hudson, Jennifer A. ""No Hay Banda, and yet We Hear a Band": David Lynch's Reversal of Coherence in Mulholland Drive." Journal of Film and Video 56.1 (2004): 17-24. EBSCOhost. Web. 26 Feb 2010.

Mulholland Drive. Dir. David Lynch. By David Lynch. Prod. Alain Sarde. Perf. Naomi Watts, Laura Elena Harring, Justin Theroux, Ann Miller. Universal Studios, 2002. DVD.