Films have clever ways to grab our attention and reveal deeper truths. One standout example is David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, where repetition acts like a spotlight on what is real and what is not.
In Mulholland Drive, released in 2001, we follow Betty, an eager actress played by Naomi Watts, as she dives into Hollywood’s strange underbelly. The story starts with a car crash and a mystery woman named Rita. Early on, two men chat at a diner called Winkie’s about a scary creature lurking behind it. They see it, and terror hits. This exact scene echoes back near the end, right before a key character’s suicide. Film scholar Kelly Bulkeley points out that this diner talk is the only spot where dreams get mentioned outright. He says it unlocks a fresh take on the whole movie, blending truth with doubt. For more on this, check out the Wikipedia page on the film: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mulholland_Drive_(film)[2].
Lynch repeats images, people, and moments to mess with our heads. Characters show up in new roles, like actors playing doubles of themselves. Scenes flip, reverse, or shift places, creating an eerie feeling. Scholar Sean Sinnerbrink notes how Diane’s hallucination of Camilla, or that Winkie’s monster popping up again, uses these repeats to make the familiar feel off. It signals when we slip from dream to harsh reality. Everyday items like a blue box also repeat, kicking off big changes that peel back the truth. Author Valtteri Kokko calls these “uncanny metaphors,” with doppelgangers and dreams hammering home the shift. The film’s close at Club Silencio adds to it, with a whisper reminding us that what we hear and see might just be illusion.
This repetition is no accident. It builds doubt, then clarity. Viewers piece together that the bright first half is a fantasy born from Diane’s pain and jealousy in her real, broken life. By looping back on itself, the film screams that truth hides in the patterns we notice. Other movies touch on repeats too. In This Is Spinal Tap, jokes grow through endless escalation, letting meaning bubble up naturally, as noted in a New Statesman piece: https://www.newstatesman.com/appreciation/2025/12/rob-reiner-knew-how-to-listen-to-people[3]. Charlie Kaufman’s works, like those in a Paste Magazine list, fold stories into loops that mirror endless perception: https://www.pastemagazine.com/movies/charlie-kaufman/10-meta-films-when-the-movie-knows-youre-watching[1].
Mulholland Drive stands out because its repeats do not just entertain. They guide us to the core truth: Hollywood dreams crash into real heartbreak.
Sources
https://www.pastemagazine.com/movies/charlie-kaufman/10-meta-films-when-the-movie-knows-youre-watching
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mulholland_Drive_(film)
https://www.newstatesman.com/appreciation/2025/12/rob-reiner-knew-how-to-listen-to-people
https://collider.com/movie-masterpieces-became-the-blueprint/
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/avatar-fire-and-ash-movie-review-2025
https://pudding.cool/2025/12/motifs/
https://ltx.studio/glossary/method-acting
