Um, yes, what is going on?

The Village Voice's J. Hoberman sums it up pretty well in his review:
"Inland Empire is Lynch's most experimental film since Eraserhead. But unlike that brilliant debut (or its two masterful successors, Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive), it lacks concentration. It's a miasma. Cheap DV technology has opened Lynch's mental floodgates. Inland Empire is suffused with dread of . . . what? Sex, in Lynch, is a priori nightmarish. But there's a sense here that film itself is evil. Movies are all about editing and acting-which is to say visual lies and verbal ones-and Inland Empire makes sure you think about both."

Lynch had the total freedom of digital video and instead of going with increased variation he chose to limit his visual palate to super tight close-ups of Laura Dern's strained face. Huh? Plus the pacing was bad; an extra beat seemed to fall between dialogue exchanges, stilting the conversations.

However, the scenes filmed in Poland reminded me that Matt's Gourmet Hot Dogs, next door to the Neptune Theater, serve a pretty good polish sausage. I also made the customary trip to Earl's On The Ave, the post-Lynchian deconstruction lair, a tradition that started after me and my friend PK watched an "Eraserhead/Lost Highway" double bill at the Varsity Theater, around the corner from the Neptune. Alone this time though, there was no one to deconstruct with, and honestly, not much worth deconstructing. But at least the gin & tonic was tall, cool and $3 from the well.