Film Review - Inland Empire

Inland Empire, 2006, David Lynch. This is not a movie, it's a piece of modern art. It's also not technically a film, as Mr Lynch shot it using digital video. It's rather like an experiemental or very artistic short film, except it goes on for nearly three hours. It's not epic, but it's ambitiously and majestically grandiose.
Briefly, so as to get it out of the way, here are just some of the things this film is "about," and which I will not mention again in this post: quantum physics, the intangibility of time, the unreliability of memory and the paradoxical concept of consequence, inevitability, free-will/self-control, metavoyuerism, metafilm, metaPOV, meta-everything, and the overlapping of the obvious, the abstract, the surreal, and the imagined or assumed "facts" within the existence of both actors, characters, humans (both dead and alive), ghosts, and--of course--the audience.
You could probably spend an infinite amount of time trying to parse through the plot lines and various themes and levels of reality in this film, but, as with most of Lynch's oeuvre, I don't think that's really the point. It should be absorbed as a whole and not broken mercilessly into bits; it's about the totality of the emotive and mental experience and not the banality of it's details.
Of course, if you've seen this film, you could probably say, well, Josh, that's just a cop-out because you don't understand the details because they're too complex. To that, I would say--exactly. There is a lot going on here and surely quite a bit of it is important in the micro sense, but I really have to believe that a greater portion is just expansive expository canvas onto which we are meant to paint our own pictures. I read in an interview that Lynch didn't have a complete script while filming, that instead he would write out a scene and then film it, never quite intending to produce a 175-minute opus, but that along the way, he would think of something else, and then write and film that, and then sense some vague connection to what he'd already filmed and so write and film some more, and so on. In the hands of a lesser man, this would likely be no more than an onanistic mess. Though I suppose this point is open for debate, as no doubt many people who are not fans of Mr Lynch would say exactly that about this film.
I disagree. This is the most grandly artistic film I've seen released in quite some time. My own filmic experiences are far from comprehensive, of course, but people just don't make films like this. This should be shown at MoMA or the Guggenheim, not Loews or AMC.