The tapes, along with a strange message that Fred receives on the intercom informing him that “Dick Laurent is dead,” are unnerving, and the cops are useless. The film opens on a seemingly ordinary couple, saxophonist Fred Madison ( Bill Pullman) and his wife Renee ( Patricia Arquette), who suddenly find themselves plagued by a series of videotapes that turn up on their doorstep, videotapes that show the inside of their house and them sleeping in bed. they ultimately developed Lost Highway’s undeniably odd and bifurcated narrative-one that touched on classical film noir tropes and which was heavily inspired by the O.J. This was Lynch’s first film since 1992’s then-reviled Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me -the big-screen prequel/sequel to his and Mark Frost’s groundbreaking TV series (Which has in recent years been re-evaluated as one of Lynch’s finest works in any medium)It was a collaboration between Lynch and Barry Gifford, -author of the original novel Wild at Heart-built from the phrase “lost highway,” which Lynch had first encountered in another Gifford book, 1992’s Night People. Indeed, it’s most interesting a dry run for concepts that Lynch would execute more effectively in his subsequent efforts. Its ideas, themes, and images are often striking individually, but do not reliably cohere into a satisfying whole. But in those cases, I always emerged-sometimes dazed-with a grasp on what Lynch was attempting to do with the picture and a good idea of whether he’d successfully done it. There are movies of Lynch’s that I like less, and movies of his that I’ve shifted my opinions on with time. Of all David Lynch’s films, Lost Highway has confounded me since I first saw it 25 years ago.
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