When David Lynch makes some weird, esoteric, narratively impenetrable picture that leaves us with more questions than answers, we seem to assume whatever he was trying to say is much smarter than whatever we understood his movie to mean. I cannot afford the same benefit of the doubt to David Robert Mitchell and Under the Silver Lake. The film felt like little more than a succession of absurd images and characters, each disappearing far too early to actually become interesting. Strange movies don’t require a big payoff to feel worthwhile, but the mystery here felt little more than pond deep.
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