The films of David Lynch are infuriating.  If you took 10 film experts and asked them to summarize any of his films, you'd most likely get 10 different expplanations.  MULHOLLAND DRIVE was an odd bad dream...ERASERHEAD is a surrealistic nightmare.  What do you say about a movie where a man carves miniature chickens that dance on the plate and bleed and the same man fathers a premature child that looks like a calf fetus and lives on top of a dresser and squeals all the time.  After all this is done, he daydreams about a plaster-cheeked woman who tapdances atop wormlike creatures inside his radiator.  THEN things start to get weird.  If David Lynch is ever anywhere near me...I will run away screaming.