Edward Rosenthal
There's a technical term with which you must be familiar in order to begin to appreciate what David Lynch has created with this remarkable web series. That term is Diegesis which essentially means that the voices or sounds are in fact part of the world and moment which we are witnessing on screen. In the case of Rabbits it's a very intentionally open question as to just when and where and from whom is originating the spoken dialog, reinforced by the fact that we aren't able to see anyone's mouth. Perhaps the actors prerecorded their lines which are being played back as a soundtrack as they pantomime their roles? Or maybe the voices were overdubbed after the drama was videotaped? Do the words we are hearing even have anything at all to do with what we are watching? Are the words intentionally misleading so as to throw us off the trail of the real story? Is the dialog intentionally fractured & scrambled so as to disrupt any possible linear, literal comprehension? Was the dialog lifted from another source altogether?!More questions: Are the characters, in fact, aware of each other? Maybe they are figments of each other's imagination? Maybe they are reminiscing about their pasts, recalling individual episodes of personal experiences which hold meaning only to themselves? Do these characters live together, or maybe they each individually lived in the grim apartment consecutively? Is the male rabbit a visitor? Why does the unseen, possibly imaginary audience applaud excessively when he enters the room and stands oddly at the door, almost as though uncomfortable with the warm reception? Why does the mysterious audience laugh at seemingly random moments, which I at first believed occurred only in response to any mention of time or time related concepts, but this theory soon proved unsustainable? Are the rabbits related? Is one of the female rabbits the mother and the other the wife? And just who or what the hell is that bizarre mouth like orifice that occasionally appears and drones incomprehensibly while one rabbit conducts what might be a ceremonial ritual with flashlights? And what of the intermittently igniting match that burns into the upper right corner of the screen as though signaling a moment of particular import, and which sort of resembles those odd circular dots in older films that alerted the projectionist to an imminent reel change?Rabbits is anything but definite; it's so thoroughly, utterly indeterminate, uncommitted, tenebrous. Is it a simple Post Modern theatrical production being staged on successive nights - nine brief episodes totaling 50 minutes? Or is it a piece of Off Broadway Absurdist Theater intended as an homage to a time when commercial theater tolerated more daring, more experimental forms of drama? Is it an Off Off Broadway production still in rehearsals? Is it a security cam recording of a bit of extra curricular thespian activities? Or maybe it's even some bizarre theatrical cult that nightly conducts pagan rituals to appease the fickle and malevolent Drama Gods? Is it taking place in a theater, or on a Hollywood sound stage, or on the set of a show that David was perhaps hoping to convince some unusually brave or foolish TV executive to televise? Is it just a video record of shenanigans with some of Lynch's friends, made for their own amusement? Are they aware of what they are involved in? The possibilities are limitless as well as the questions, and that seems to be the point. Well, not the point, but the method; the method of Lynch's inspired, outrageous, ridiculous, sublime madness.What it seems to be is a purposely abstract, incoherent, ineffable expression of pure creativity. It defies all possible labels, genres and names, and seems to relish the precarious position it occupies in my baffled, bewildered, frantically deducing mind. It exudes such a sinister, almost macabre atmosphere, and yet it dares you to assume that there's anything suspicious occurring. Theater of the Absurd came into fashion in the late 50s, but the decor on stage is late 20s or early 30s Art Deco, so it may be that the furnishings have occupied this "room" for decades. Film Noir - Lynch's preferred form of cinematic expression - also came into fashion in the 50s, and the genre thrived in the same moody ominous atmosphere that this video piece exudes, thanks to Angelo Badalamenti's signature musical score which is particularly muted and subdued. The doleful, mournful wail of a distant train whistle is nearly comical and yet so poignantly evocative, as is the omnipresent gentle storm which drenches the proceedings in a corny, maudlin, overstated gloom. The stage set might bring to mind the bleak, stark TV set apartment that Jackie Gleason's Honeymooners occupied, which only adds yet another preposterously comical layer of meaning to the mix. And yet it all adds up to something indescribably eerie and treacherous.These furry, large eared characters might be indiscriminate, random creatures functioning as placeholders, as stand ins for real actors who may one day actually perform the piece. It seems to be suggesting that characters in drama are better seen as unreal, non human entities more appropriate and consistent with the artifice and unreality of the theatrical form. Lynch may be implying that a dramatic persona is best understood as a manifestation of a more fanciful non reality, a product of imagination & fantasy, and isn't that, after all, the essence of childhood play? But then why is it all so damn taunting and threatening?! The cumulative effect - as all the dark, dreary, heavy atmosphere might dictate - however, is not at all depressing. No, on the contrary, it's very compelling and disturbing and thrilling and wonderful. And that might be the most confounding part, just how profoundly pleasant an experience is David Lynch's Rabbits.
Markus Jenkins
(I shouldn't say 'merely'. It makes it look like I'm downgrading this work, I'm not.)I think it's a mind boggling ride where traditional conventions of language, logic and storytelling are thrown out the window. If you want to understand this non-sequitur, surrealist style of writing please look up "Theatre of the Absurd". It'll explain this kind of work very nicely. Bravo to David Lynch for making a movie/play in this style!From Wikipedia(But please go elsewhere to get a deeper understanding): The Theatre of the Absurd (French: Théâtre de l'Absurde) is a designation for particular plays of absurdist fiction written by a number of primarily European playwrights in the late 1950s, as well as one for the style of theatre which has evolved from their work. Their work expressed the belief that human existence has no meaning or purpose and therefore all communication breaks down. Logical construction and argument gives way to irrational and illogical speech and to its ultimate conclusion, silence.Traditional plot structures are rarely a consideration in The Theatre of the Absurd.[151] Plots can consist of the absurd repetition of cliché and routine, as in Godot or The Bald Soprano. Often there is a menacing outside force that remains a mystery....
CinefanR
After Twin Peaks – the movie, Lynch got completely off track. Everything that followed was unwatchable for me. The problem with "Rabbits", as with his entire post-Twin Peaks work, is that it's really boring and unintelligible. Plot less ramblings are fine as long as there is something to keep you engaged. I bet Lynch gets a big laugh every time fans or critics try to "decipher" his mysteries, symbols and intentions in places where he didn't have any. Lynch is playing on absurdity here (something he used to do very well) and I was hoping for more clues, but no, he is cheating. "Rabbits" ends up as a self-indulging, pretty boring and annoying little experiment. Yes, I guess it could be some sort of social commentary combining American sitcom with… something. Or maybe it's just Lynch jerking around.
surrealFriend
Maybe I'm just a nut, but I rarely find myself in either of the usual camps regarding Lynch flicks. Rabbits is a good example: I have not desire to "figure it all out," nor do I think it's drivel. It's an interesting experience just as it is.The best analogy I have for watching a Lynch film is hearing a song in a made-up language: the vocabulary might be lost on me, but the mood is crystal clear. I don't puzzle over the words. Since I have no reference point for intellectualizing them, I don't distract myself by trying. Instead, I sit back and let the nuances of emotion transcend the sound. Really, isn't that the power of art? That same philosophy applies to film. It would be silly to design a film that totally rejects convention to be the vehicle for one specific, decipherable message. You just kinda "feel" the movie the way you feel music.With that purpose in mind, I waited until night, turned off the lights, and watched Rabbits. In a few places I got bored, but mostly it was great. It's creepy, it's dream-like, it's surprising. I don't want to "understand" what's happening. To me, a good mystery isn't one where I go "oh" at the end - it's one where I feel like turning on all the lights in your house at the end. On that count, Rabbits delivers. What else could you want?
