Lost An Hour Of Our Lives On Lost Highway

Over the weekend, we watched Lost Highway as a Netflix rental, and lost an hour of our lives. Dr Desert Flower and I both like David Lynch's work. Yes, Eraserhead was weird, and Dune was over-the top, but we both enjoyed Twin Peaks, Wild At Heart, and Mulholland Drive (somewhat). Blue Velvet, as messed up as it was, has remained a quotable standard over the last 25 years. But Lost Highway... so many long, long, drawn out Lynchian shots. An inane plot "twist" in the mid-section transformation that made no sense. We fast forwarded through the tortuously slow sections, and laughed at some of the very absurd sections.

Who would have thought that Bill Pullman (President Whitmore, baby!) and Robert Loggia would not live up to expectations? Gary Busey, Henry Rollins, and Richard Pryor's characters were throw aways. Robert Blake was weird but also comically creepy. Perhaps if we would have been drunk, or on a controlled substance, or recovering from anesthetic, it would have made more sense or might have been more enjoyable. Marilyn Manson played a snuff-porno film star (who was extinguished, we think) as an added hilarious anecdote near the end. Spoiler alert? No, the lost hour of our lives was what spoiled it.