Mulholland Drive can be divided into two parts; one representing a dream (the protagonist’s unconscious), the other representing her conscious reality.
The film tells the Diane Selwyn story. Diane paid a contract killer to murder her former lover, Camilla, who cast Diane aside to marry a famous director. Consumed by guilt, Diane suffers a breakdown and commits suicide in her bedroom.
We learn all of this during the film’s final half-hour. This final half-hour is the “real” (rather than dream) section of the film, though this narrative unfolds in a non-linear fashion.
Arranging Camilla’s murder seems an extreme reaction. However, Diane’s actions are driven by a history of failure and exploitation, including sexual abuse. Camilla’s rejection of Diane continued this cycle of exploitation. There are numerous clues to Diane’s back-story in the dream section that comprises the bulk of Mulholland Drive.
Before moving on, it’s worth asking how we know which sections of the film are dream and which are “reality?” (I place “reality” in quotation marks because this is a film, after all.)
Well, we’re told explicitly. After the opening jitterbug sequence, we cut to a point of view shot. This is Diane’s perspective as she goes to bed and starts to dream. Diane’s dream ends when The Cowboy says “Hey pretty girl, time to wake up.” The “reality” section starts here. Moreover, during the dream section, Diane, as her alter-ego Betty, advises us that “it’s like a dream,” and explains that she’s “in this dream place.”
In other words, aside from the opening jitterbug sequence and concluding half hour, the entire film is Diane’s dream. This becomes more apparent on repeat viewings.
Hopefully you’re still with me… Now we need to unravel what happens in Diane’s dream and what we learn of her back-story.
Diane's dream is an idealised fantasy. However, within this dream there are slippages—moments when the fantasy cannot be sustained and we get glimpses of the real Diane. Before discussing these moments, it's worth noting how Diane's dream operates as a form of denial and self-protection.
Camilla, the woman who rejected Diane, is an amnesiac and reliant on Diane's dream doppelganger, Betty. In other words, Camilla cannot leave Diane. This is a reversal of their "real world" relationship.
Diane’s real life career failures become successes in her dream. When her alter-ego Betty auditions for a role in a Hollywood film, not only does she wow the filmmakers, she’s also whisked away by two big casting agents, with a view to starring in a much bigger production, The Sylvia North Story. (This was Camilla’s breakthrough role in the “real world” and helps to demonstrate Diane’s resentment toward her former lover.) Just as importantly, in Diane’s dream, Camilla Rhodes (here played by Melissa George) is a terrible actress, who only lands the part through corruption involving mafia bosses, one of whom is insistent on being served the right kind of espresso. This marks Betty (read Diane) out as the truly talented actress and Camilla as a fraud, at least that’s Diane’s perception.
In the dream, the killer Diane paid to murder Camilla is incompetent and messes up a hit. From Diane’s perspective, this “incompetent” hitman may have similarly bungled Camilla’s murder. This allows Diane to repress feelings of guilt by suggesting she is not responsible for Camilla’s death.
The director who stole Camilla from Diane is emasculated in Diane’s dream. Not only is he cuckolded (his wife sleeps with Billy Ray Cyrus!), he is feminised when he is covered from head to toe with pink paint. Diane’s rival (and now Camilla’s fiancé) is thereby rendered unthreatening.
Perhaps most importantly, Diane’s dream alter-ego Betty is perfect[/b], arguably to the point of annoyance. Betty is Diane’s idealised self—a Nancy Drew-like character, to whom success comes naturally and for whom the future holds endless possibilities. This is not only reflected through the abovementioned themes of Diane’s dream, but also in Watts’ performance. Betty is purposefully superficial and deliberately acted this way. This aspect of Watts’ performance not only to cues us into the unreality of Betty’s existence as Diane’s dream alter-ego, but is also commentary on Hollywood—the dream factory, in which the impossible is made possible and the real world’s flaws are over-painted with a glossy veneer.
On this last point, I’ve read criticisms of Watts’ performance. I disagree. I think Watts is exceptional in this film. Watts’ transformation from the idealised Betty to the deeply flawed and damaged Diane is one of great contrast, from superficiality to challenging character depth. Indeed, this transformation occurs during one scene in particular, as one of the “slippages” mentioned above. In this scene “Betty” is overwhelmed by “Diane.” Put another way, Diane’s dream is overwhelmed by the reality of her existence. Put another way again, Diane’s traumatic memories cannot be repressed and achieve expression in her dream.
Watts performs the same audition twice in Mulholland Drive, in very different ways. The scene’s title, “Dad’s Best Friend Goes to Work,” is important, while comparing these scenes tells us of Diane’s past as a victim of abuse.
The first time Betty performs the scene she reads opposite Camilla as a rehearsal. The scene is played superficially and made light of by both. (It ends with the couple laughing together and commenting on its absurdity.)
The second time Watts plays this scene she’s auditioning for the role opposite the much older Chad Everett. Before the audition starts, Betty is advised to not “play it real until it gets real.” As the scene begins, Watts slips out of the Betty role and becomes Diane. In other words, she slips out of fantasy and the reality of Diane’s existence is brought forth. This is evidenced by Watts’ shift in performance, in contrast with her earlier rehearsal opposite Camilla. If you listen to the dialogue, Watts is not playing her character’s age. From the moment Betty starts the audition, we’re seeing Diane’s past and evidence of her sexual exploitation.
Here, we get a sense of Diane as a damaged character, driven to murder after another betrayal. The seeds of Diane’s actions were planted in her past. Camilla saw Diane as a plaything. For Diane, Camilla was a partner she finally trusted. When Camilla betrays Diane this rejection is devastating. This betrayal is compounded by Diane’s humiliation in the later “reality” scenes, on the film set, and at Camilla’s engagement party, to which Diane is lured unaware.
This brings us to the Club Silencio scene and the other major slippage in Diane’s dream. Here, Diane’s responsibility for Camilla’s murder can no longer be repressed. This realisation is so disturbing it causes Diane to wake. As she falls through the blue box, Diane moves from unconsciousness to consciousness; or from dream to reality. The colour blue signifies this transition. The blue box is the most important signifier in this regard. Once unlocked, the blue box’s secrets are set free and Diane is confronted by her fully conscious self.
Throughout this scene, the club’s compère tells Diane that she is experiencing a dream (an “illusion” or “recording”). Diane’s responsibility for Camilla’s murder is expressed through Rebekah Del Rio’s performance of “Llorando”—a Spanish interpretation of Roy Orbison’s “Crying” (Over You). The song draws tears from both Betty and Camilla, as an expression of devastating loss. This is traumatic for Diane and prefaced by flashes of blue lightning. These flashes cause Diane to shake as she is roused from her sleep and faces her reality. This reality, combined with a history of exploitation and abuse, is so unbearable it leads Diane to suicide. Just as importantly, Diane knows her arrest for Camilla’s murder is imminent; and the police come knocking at her door before she retreats to her bedroom and puts the gun to her mouth.
The above should answer three of my questions. To address question four, “the man behind Winkies” is the manifestation (or personification) the id—the repressed, unconscious part of the psyche, whose face we hope to “never see outside of a dream.” (I’ve said nothing about the earlier diner scene, which is also exceptional in my opinion.) In the film’s final moments we see the man behind Winkies handling the blue box, before Diane’s tormentors (aspects of her conscious mind she’s tried desperately to repress) escape and achieve terrifying form.
As for his equivalent in other Lynch films, that’ll require another (ideally shorter) post, if members can cope!
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