It took me 3 tries to get through Inland Empire. My mind kept wandering off at around the 45 minute mark, and knowing that the film was light on narrative I was worried that I might miss what little story was there. When I finally watched it, I found that there was even less narrative than I thought there would be, and like you I realized that it is not a story/plot driven film to be watched, it is a display of surrealism to be experienced. You are not meant to figure out the mystery, you are meant to soak up the ambience.
I love Lynch, I love surrealism/absurdism, I love mindfucks, I like strange and weird. And up until Inland Empire, every move I'd seen that fit into those categories still for the most part followed the standard formula of characterization, plot and progression. Mulholland Dr. and Lost Highway for example introduce plenty of absurd elements that have no bearing on the story and are there strictly to confuse and contribute to the atmosphere, yet even with all those absurd moments they are still plot driven films that you can make sense of. In Inland Empire those weird atmospheric scenes are the entire package with tiny elements of story and plot sprinkled in.
Inland Empire is like looking at one of those Magic Eye things and seeing the outline of a shape but never getting it into focus. The mind is frantically trying to piece everything together, but it doesn't know what to accept or reject, or where any of the pieces fit. When we watch regular movies, we recognize tropes and formulas. "Oh, here is the protagonist/antagonist/comic relief/twist/tragic event/uplifting scene/etc." We recognize all the tropes because we have seen them so many times before, and while we appreciate trends and norms being bucked, conventions toyed with or disregarded, almost never does the entire film remain unclassifiable. Unconventional things in film are almost always done within the confines of a familiar paradigm. Inland Empire succeeds, ironically enough, because no other film dares to deviate
so fucking far from the well-worn templates we are so familiar with, lest it find itself unpopular and ignored. Inland Empire creates friction in our mind as we watch because it doesn't adhere to the norms we have been conditioned to expect from our standard fare. Early on in the film the viewer's mind sends the signal of "Hold on, this isn't making any
sense. What the fuck am I watching?"
With every successive scene the film gets further out of our grasp, it further denies attempts by the viewer to make sense of it all, to derive meaning, to say "Ah I get it,
this means
that." At some point you come to the realization that you are not going to make sense of this thing, that it is not going to be coherent to a satisfactory degree or ever resemble a 'normal' film. It isn't going to 'click'. Those who are too dogmatic and rigid in their view of what a film should be will hate that realization. They feel cheated and betrayed and trolled, much like those who hated the ending of The Sopranos. Those who are able to revel in atmosphere and enjoy the tone of a film and who like scratching the mind-itch that the film creates will enjoy it (to varying degrees). And then there are those who are just so baffled that they genuinely have no opinion either way. In my experience there are very few of the third category.
Now anyone can just film crazy shit that makes no sense. What makes Lynch work even at his most extreme is that he gives us just enough narrative and cohesion to make that teasing feel good. It's all
just familiar enough that our mind is reaching and stretching and clawing at the meaning, which feels as though it is ever within our grasp. If it were just pure absurdity with no semblance of purpose, we would disconnect completely and find zero value in watching it. It is a tightwire act of which Lynch is a master. Inland Empire comes very close to being the film equivalent of the blank canvas as modern art showpiece. I look at those pieces of "art" and I refuse to buy into it. I can't see it as anything other than a troll of the art viewer. And yet I know that there are those who view Inland Empire the same way, as an empty gesture or piece of troll wankery. Just as all the meaning in the blank canvas is created by the viewer, so too must the artistic merit of IE be created by its viewer, right? I'd be forced to agree were not the performances so great, the composition and lighting (even with the ugly digital format) so brilliant, and Lynch's particular style of fucked up weird shit not always so interesting to look at. The precise meaning may elude us forever, but there is no question that Lynch is putting something worth looking at on his canvas. By crafting a world that is overwhelmingly absurd yet just familiar enough to keep us engaged, he succeeds in making a pure mood piece that washes over those willing to just soak it in. For those who aren't it is just a bunch of weird shit that makes no sense and it sucks, the end.
I can totally understand the rejection and negative view of those who can't or prefer not to let go of their notions of what a film is, and who find no pleasure or redeeming factor in watching something like Inland Empire, but honestly I find such a view terribly narrow and limiting. Inland Empire is the film analogue of a great guitar solo by Jimi Hendrix or Jimmy Page. Sure, what they are doing is not *technically* a song, but music need not be confined to such rigid parameters to be enjoyable and worthwhile. I can't imagine listening to them jam, and critiquing "Well, it isn't in a standard verse-chorus form, so I reject it". Sometimes people just want to jam the fuck out, and if you let them and listen with an open mind, you might really hear some sweet shit. I for one am glad Lynch and others like him are able to jam the fuck out from time to time, I *need* that kind of film making to be happening.