Mr. Reindeer wrote:I'm curious, Audrey -- if the scene ends up taking place in the real world, completely at face value, how might that change your perspective? Would you be sad/angry at where Audrey has ended up?
I know this was directed to Audrey, but since you didn't ask me I'll give you my perspective.
This is an important point. The Return is not Westworld, where all the peices will get neatly tied up eventually, although there is some of that in the show in keeping with the spirit of the original run. It makes no difference "where" the scene takes place, and I feel it is in Audrey's mind based so far on my interpretation of DLs prior film work. The scene could be set in TP in the same reality as Bobby's and Ben's, but the intent, the effect, would be the the same, if not quite our reactions to it and our perspective on it (for me anyway).
One aspect many people enjoy about a Lynch story is the "puzzle" aspect of them, where part of the fun, or all of the fun for some people, is figuring out where and how each scene fits into a larger logically airtight narrative. I love this aspect myself, and derive a lot of satisfaction for figuring out the puzzles, but to me it is not the main draw. Roger Ebert, if I'm not mistaken, dismissed DL as a mere puzzle builder until MD, Lynch's biggest puzzle movie of them all (a whole separate thread could be started on how Ebert misses what I see in Lynch's work).
The Audrey scene tells what it tells us, regardless of how it fits into the puzzle. That, I think, is something that gets obscured by Lynch's plotting style. When you watch a scene in a Mike Leigh or John Cassavetes movie, no one is worried about real or not real, even though their films are equally as contrived as any other movie. All scripted movies are surreal. Lynch's more overt surrealism leads to a dissimulation of important expressive aspects of his work, while simultaneously offering the viewer the chance to experience an idea with a fresh set of eyes, so to speak. In other words, the slow pacing, artifice, and desire to "figure out how it fits," can interfere with our understanding of the scene and the overall show, but can also grant us the benefit of absorbing the material without some of the distorted baggage of our preconceptions. We're provided the luxury of watching a single scene through multiple windows.
That's a rather long way of saying that I will be quite happy should the scene turn out to be "real." It would add another new avenue from which to observe this remarkable set piece.