Fred (Bill Pullman) plays saxophone by night, and sleeps in his soundproof saxophone-practice bedroom by day. One morning a voice over his intercom tells him “Dick Larante is dead”, and a videotape of his house is delivered to him. Soon, Fred’s partner Renee (Patricia Arquette) is murdered, and Fred is arrested, because there’s a video of him doing it, much to his surprise, but don’t worry, this is a David Lynch film, so there’s a creepy pale guy cropping up all over the place too.

This is definitely in the category of Lynch films labelled “Not to be watched on a public train.” It’s OK, I didn’t, but if I had it would’ve been turned off immediately as there’s a lot of sex and nudity throughout this film. It’s in slow motion, close up, and with a focus on the rhythmic jiggling of Arquette’s nipples.

Nipple-jiggling aside, this wasn’t a film I particularly cared for, as alongside not being suitable for viewing out in the world, I also had no grasp as to what the heck was going on. It’s reminiscent of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, in that we follow one character for a while before they leave the film and we follow someone else instead, but here it’s unclear whether those two people are the same character, as Pullman’s Fred eventually transforms into car mechanic Pete (Balthazar Getty), who becomes entangled in a relationship with Alice (also Arquette), the lover of dangerous criminal Mr. Eddy (Robert Loggia). There’s definitely time loop shenanigans at play, which is proving not uncommon in Lynch’s work, but as usual it’s not what I’m here for. Also, Pullman is captivating and charismatic, sweatily wailing on his saxophone and frantically reckoning with his encounters with the pale man, but Getty just doesn’t have the charm or ability to retain my engagement. It’s a massive downgrade and Pullman’s absence is keenly felt.

There are a few fun moments, though. Jack Nance crops up as a jazz-loving senior mechanic, Richard Pryor shocked the heck out of me in one of his last film roles, and Gary Busey wears a leather jacket. Robert Loggia is quite excellent in what feels like the Dennis Hopper role of this film, although I missed the contrast between his depravity and the innocence from Kyle MacLachlan and Laura Dern in Blue Velvet. Loggia flipping out at a guy for over-taking him is fun, beating him up whilst yelling about road safety, tail-gating and stopping distances, and I particularly enjoyed the nice touch of both his body guards simultaneously buckling their seatbelts when they clock what’s about to happen; clearly this isn’t Eddy’s first fit of road rage. It was though somewhat frustrating then to watch Pete, after having witnessed this assault, immediately go and shack up with Eddy’s girlfriend, how exactly did he think this was all going to go?!

It’s not a Lynch film I feel compelled to return too. I think I understand it about as well as I did Mulholland Drive after that first viewing, and with no additional research, but where I felt engrossed in the world and characters of Mulholland, the majority of Lost Highway is just offputting.

Choose Life 4/10