Naomi Watts

In Mulholland Drive (2001), Naomi Watts makes Betty's enthusiasm just a little too eager for comfort. She plays an aspiring actress whose hope takes work, but never asks us to laugh at her for wanting so much. We can see why disappointment would hurt her before there is much of a mystery to follow. It is the performance we would start with: Watts gives David Lynch's strangeness someone worth worrying about, and makes the film's difficulties worth the effort.

Her scenes with Laura Harring's Rita are crucial to that. Harring makes Rita vulnerable without dispelling the uncertainty around her, and Watts gives Betty's growing attachment a tenderness that matters. We were moved by the closeness between them because both actors keep the women worth caring about even when we cannot explain what is happening. The film's wandering passages are less persuasive, particularly when Lynch lingers over supporting characters whose peculiarities do not repay the attention. We wanted to get back to Watts and Harring.

The breakthrough was followed by the horror lead in The Ring (2002), then the grief of 21 Grams (2003) and the physical ordeal of The Impossible (2012). These roles made fear and endurance recurring demands on an actor whose work is also alert to what people hope for. Her recurring collaborators include Alejandro González Iñárritu as well as Lynch. The supporting part in Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014) offered the different demands of an ensemble satire about acting and fame. Later television work included the Twin Peaks revival (2017).

We are less persuaded when the material relies on her commitment without giving her much of a character to play. The effort can become conspicuous, and some of the weaker performances feel forced. That is a reason to be selective, not to mistake the repeated casting in distress for the whole of what she can do. Start with Mulholland Drive, and give Betty's eagerness as much attention as the mystery.