krakonoff1 This review contains spoilers.Lost Highway is directed by David Lynch. The story follows a person that is seemingly harassed by someone recording him and his significant other. The main character is then framed for murder but morphs into another identity.The story is incredibly odd and audiences that expect a standard story will be confused here. The movie does not ever explain itself and the events simply continue. This may be off putting to some but for audiences that are willing to accept the strangeness there is an interesting story here. The movie is perhaps too ambitious for itself but I would still recommend it.

Bofsensai There really is little point to add another review here, except well, I should for my own collection of reviews obviously have something on what I feel is STILL - probably - the best film ever made: although, oddly (like the film - odd!) initially having caught it on very first release, in a small (almost fleapit) theatre in D.C. (Washington), I got that 'what the heck was that all about?', the master has indeed lost not only his highway, but his grip / the plot! Talk about bewildered as you leave the theatre blinking into the daylight. So I empathise with any that feel this is nonsense! Ah, but wait, give it a second chance to reassess: Rather as like myself, one year on - (and pre all too soon video (DVD) home use releases) - it came on TV and having adored his earlier efforts, had to watch again to give benefit of doubt was an aberration in his oeuvre and possibly so reassess: and by which, just coincidentally, was set up to also hear, too, on the recently invested in, (then rapidly proliferating), home theatre set up sound system: and in that (aural) sense, finally, it stood- sounded - out mightily superb: since having known what was to unfold - so, knowing likely not able to make much (mundane) narrative sense to it - and so is the reason I'm adding this here, since, otherwise, really, what could I add that might be useful (new?) that hasn't already been mulled over countless times? Since otherwise, there'd really be little reason to add my take on it other than to recommend this: if you have already seen it once, then counter-intuitively, DON'T try to work it out; rather just let the images and weirdness wash over you. That's all. Indeed, even let go of the obvious movie use sense of 'viewing', so that for a change rather than intently watch, trying to work out the unlikely unworkoutable, just listen to it: the soundtrack and design (Lynch himself with long time compatriot Badalamenti) is an experience to savour on its own: as for example, as the most disturbing, (likely snuff inference?) home porn movie scene approaches, as characters career down corridors and the ominous sorta chop chop helicopter like opening bars of Ramstein's eponymous 'tune' chimes in, surreptitiously ramp up the volume on your home sound system: as the Teutonic cacophony crashes through, it'll startle and raise the hackles on ya neck even more and add to the fearful paranoia that Lynch has masterfully inveigled you into. Other than that, I wouldn't dare to try and interpret it: (Coz it's a fugue, innit? Or what?) it's best left entirely to your own impression (e.g. disjointed claptrap - or deeply disturbing take on the mysterious power of alternative personality (DID = largely dismissed Disassociative Individual Disorder?) manifestation, that may likely affect those that have power and control over us?! … Opps! There, still sneaked in my take!), and just be grateful, Lynch did decide not only to put it together, but also originally for proper appreciation on on the big screen, too. (Oh, and if you have the spare time, then a must to try and triple bill it with similar themed, companion pieces, 'Mulholland Dr.' and 'Inland Empire'.)Truly masterful from a cinematic genius master: there, that's my take / recommendation done.

John Brooks There, that title alone is enough to get fans to cringe and generate torrents of seething hatred now. This film is a Lynch film, it is therefor a mystery/crime with a very strong emphasis on the mystery...and the crime. But in both cases, an extreme version. So extreme in fact is the mystery, that it never actually unravels its coherent meaning, for simply, there is none. This sounds all very seductive to the pseudo-intellectual, but for others this comes across as clearly lacking a coherence even within the incoherence, an order in the chaos attempted. This comes across as way, way too many sex scenes, unnecessary violence to cover up strong plot work, easily too much length, and ultimately an artist abusing his status in creating lazy and complacent pudding: it's sweet, it looks good, but it's amorphic. Shape cannot entirely replace content, and if the content is to be this sort of fantastic network of vistas and concepts then it should at least provide a certain understanding to its public, some light along the dark alley. Lost Highway is interesting visually, pretty enjoyable to watch, but it really doesn't amount to anything of any valuable quality when it comes to an actual resolution of the plot and never provides the fullness in meaning, the satisfaction of understanding the whole. This film may have a compelling, abstract narrative to start with but it becomes so very self-indulgent towards about the last third, and it just goes on and on and on... Sincerely not a great film. Not as well made as 'Blue Velvet', to give an example, made a decade earlier. 5/10.

Matt Sewell Lost Highway finds Lynch just as confused as his audience. He exploits Patricia Arquette to no end, showing us her naked body as though it were a Star Wars special effect every few minutes. As a feminist accidentally born with testicles, I found this very offensive. Furthermore, I couldn't help but feel this movie has a conservative message underneath all the flash and weirdness. When we see Patricia Arquette on a movie screen, in a porno film, near the end of the movie, a harsh, seeming gregorian chant from a Ramstein song (and let's not pretend we don't know what THOSE GUYS represent..,) plays on the soundtrack. In an almost Spielbergian gesture of fascist filmmaking, the audience is forced to find something negative in a woman's choice to do with her body what she wants. Shame on you, Mr. Lynch!When you pull apart the pieces of Lost Highway and examine them, the movie doesn't make much sense, I'm afraid to say. I'm one of those people who loves to claim that, "If you didn't like it, you didn't get it!" But I'm afraid here, I can't defend modern art with that old standby. The fact of the matter is, Mr. Lynch's warmup for his masterpiece, Mulholland Dr., is an emperor with no clothes.