An American novelist arrives in Paris, hoping to reunite with his French wife and young daughter after being released from an institution, but his pleas for reconciliation are bluntly rejected. Shortly after this setback, his money and belongings are stolen, and he rents a room at a fleabag hotel owned by a sinister Lebanese. As his life spirals downwards, he quarrels with a foul-mouthed African over the filth in their shared toilet, obsessively stalks his daughter's school playground during the day, and survives by working as a night watchman in an underground labyrinth. Invited to a literary party, he begins an affair with the mysterious widow of an author, while also becoming intimate with the barmaid girlfriend of the hotel proprietor.
Countless camera shots through railings and windows provide sledgehammer clues that the novelist's Parisian ordeal is the delusion of a deranged patient confined in some asylum, and his surreal misadventures represent fantasies intermingled with memories. The real identities of the other characters are fairly obvious - the hotel owner is the asylum governor - the African a fellow patient - the barmaid a nurse who dispenses medications. The two mistresses are archetypes of good and evil - one a vampiric, dark-haired sophisticate, while the other is a blonde Polish country girl. It's anyone's guess who they might represent. Those who admire this downbeat clone of Mulholland Drive can unravel the puzzle.
Countless camera shots through railings and windows provide sledgehammer clues that the novelist's Parisian ordeal is the delusion of a deranged patient confined in some asylum, and his surreal misadventures represent fantasies intermingled with memories. The real identities of the other characters are fairly obvious - the hotel owner is the asylum governor - the African a fellow patient - the barmaid a nurse who dispenses medications. The two mistresses are archetypes of good and evil - one a vampiric, dark-haired sophisticate, while the other is a blonde Polish country girl. It's anyone's guess who they might represent. Those who admire this downbeat clone of Mulholland Drive can unravel the puzzle.