X-Ray Spex Horror Movie Marathon: MULHOLLAND DR.

I look back on MULHOLLAND DR. as one of the best moviegoing experiences I can remember. I caught the late show some Saturday night in fall of 2001 and David Lynch's Hollywood noir completely mesmerized me. I walked out of that theater in a daze, feeling like I had just woken up from a dream. Or maybe I hadn't.

MULHOLLAND DR. is one of Lynch's best films, to be sure. It's gorgeously filmed, beautifully scored and brilliantly acted (especially by Naomi Watts, delivering one of the best movie performances of recent memory). It's funny, it's sad, it's creepy, it's suspenseful and it's damned near profound. What it's not, I'll admit, is a horror movie. But it does have one scene that scared the hell out of me.

The scene, which comes about 11 minutes into the movie, involves two extremely minor characters, Dan and Herb. (I'm not sure we even see them again). They're both eating at a diner on Sunset Blvd. named Winkie's (a location we definitely see again). Herb acts like a psychiatrist and Dan like his patient, but those roles are never spelled out, and Herb is more superior and annoyed than you'd expect a medical professional to be. In the scene, Dan describes a dream he had at that restaurant, where everything was the same except that it was sort of "half day, half night." In the dream, Dan's "scared like I can't tell you," and Herb is standing by the counter -- scared, too. Dan says the reason for the fear is a man, outside the restaurant, who Dan can see through the wall. "He's the one who's doing it," he explains. Dan alludes to the man's face and says "I hope I never see that face outside of a dream." Herb explains that, obviously, Dan came to Winkies to see if the man is really out there, and gets up to pay the bill. As Herb stands at the counter, Dan looks up at him and realizes the horrible truth. This is the dream.

Herb (not scared) takes him outside, and they slowly walk around the diner, terrified, sweaty Dan leading the way. As they head down to the dumpster area, I started to get a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew that whatever was lurking down there was something I didn't want to see . Lynch had perfectly orchestrated the entire scene -- actors, lighting, location and (especially) sound. This all takes place, keep in mind, in the blazing L.A. sun on a completely normal street. There are no ominous shadows, no off-kilter camera angles, no threatening music on the soundtrack. But somehow, thanks to Lynch, that walk down to the dumpster is one of the scariest images I've ever seen in a movie.


There is something there, of course, something lurking behind a graffiti-covered wall, and it still sends a chill up my spine when I watch the scene. (I watched it just now, while writing this -- on a bright, sunny Tuesday morning in my own home -- and sure, enough, I felt that familiar tingle.) I wouldn't think of revealing what it is here -- watch the damn movie! -- but I will say that, in itself, it's nothing especially terrible. By thanks to Lynch's masterful leadup, it's completely terrifying.

You know that feeling of dread you get in a dream, when there's no real reason to be scared but a wave of unease comes over you? That's the feeling Lynch is somehow able to convey in this scene. I have no idea how he did it, but I'm strangely glad he did.

Watch this: MULHOLLAND DR. is available on DVD, but ad per David Lynch's wishes, there are no chapter stops. You want to watch this one, you're going to have to start from square one.

Trivia note: Composer Angelo Badalamenti plays the espresso-loving film exec. By the way, if you want to read an extremely in-depth explanation of what MULHOLLAND DR. may or may not mean, check out this article on Salon.com.

Coming tomorrow: You've probably never heard of this movie, but there's one shot in it you have to see.