Opiniones de usuarios

The rabbits are us in the way we live our entire lives separated from death only by our domestic routines of normalcy and our denial. Rabbits are bred for the slaughter; they live their entire lives in their little cage, surrounded by, and fed by, the very same people who will someday unthinkingly break their necks.

They're traumatized by the collective memory of past relatives being snatched from their cages while the characters themselves were still too young to fully comprehend the severity and reality of what was happening. The horrors they witnessed so long ago are now just an underlying feeling that something is wrong. They, and we, live their entire lives among death, ignorantly and purposely oblivious of it, until the one day when they are able to ignore it no more, until the day it is their turn.

That's what sense I made out of it anyway.

Okay, I have been watching David Lynch's work since Twin Peaks. I have seen everything he has done from Eraserhead to Mulholland Dr. It's taken me 3 years to find a copy of RABBITS to watch and I must say... Lynch never ceases to confuse me.

I understand why some people think Lynch is overly self-indulgent, but I don't think that is a reason to hate him and his work. Lost Highway and Mulholland Dr. are two of the greatest film ever, but they are not for everybody.

RABBITS is different than his films, and I am not going to act like I understand RABBITS or pretend that I found my own interpretation to the series. I don't know what I've just seen, I can't even tell you if it was self-indulgent crap or a work of genius, all I can say is if you like Lynch and want to see something different than anything you'll ever see anywhere else, than enjoy:)

A slow, stylish, eerie and extremely interesting story set "in a city deluged by constant rain where three rabbits live with a constant mystery". Mr Lynch has a great talent for establishing atmosphere and this series is soaked with his trademark (weird) mood. When I watched the first episode I was not sure whether to laugh or be baffled at what I was seeing. 3 Rabbits talk out of sequence, an unseen audience claps whenever one of them enters the room and laughs (not because something funny is said, but at the misery of the rabbits), a candle burns in the corner, a demon face chants something undecipherable (reminds me of the litanies of Satan, the camera seems to be disturbed in the beginning of the 7 out of 8 episodes by something I can only guess to be a spirit. We hear footsteps, the door sometimes opens and the phone even rings. All to the frustration of the rabbits. I noticed a lot of people have tried to figure out what Rabbits is about and my take on it is pretty simple. Firstly, this wasn't the first time I have seen something like this, though this is definitely very well made. I read a book a very long time ago whose title I cannot remember about 2 kids who were put in a scenario similar to this rabbit house and were observed everyday by their captures. The 2 children (I only remember one child called Mavis) were unaware they were being watched and as far as they knew, they had a normal life (went out, watched TV etc) except they didn't in real life. Everything was in their mind. This seems similar to this story. The rabbits could be 'prisoners' who are being observed or kept by someone (the man in the green suit). There is however how they react to the audience (whenever they enter the room and the audience claps, they wait until the applause is finished and continue to sit down) so they are aware they are being watched. According to their dialogue, it seems to me they were once human, "Jane- were you blond?" but it does seem like they remember or who they were. They refer to each other by human names, but they seem confused or disturbed by their situation, "I wish they'd go away", probably referring to the unseen audience. The last episode offers a good climax but not a conclusion. Or is it? Are the rabbits unable to figure out a way out of their misery...or is this their reality as it always has been? Like the book I read, the children never did escape their house, but they did figure out they were not living a 'normal' life. Lynch has never been one to offer a comfortable conclusion to his work- so I would not be surprised if this is the end for his rabbits.

Yes, everything is jumbled. It's all jumbled because that is how we experience life. It's how we, our minds, experience the sensations and stimuli that constitute thought and memory and perception. It's the phenomenon of awareness, how events effect our consciousness. It's how events are relived again and again in our minds. Our "Present" moment is constantly amused by, confused by, taunted by and terrorized by memories, impressions and feelings of past moments and events. Our "Present" moment is also assaulted, distorted, effected by future events or moments. How so? By thinking about things that have yet to happen, good or bad, we shape our present moment. The awareness of future moments and events brings pleasure, joy, anxiety, dread, terror into our present experience. Apparently it's mostly anxiety, dread and terror because that is how we are "wired" to react to the unknown. What's more unknown then the future? This is how we are experiencing the "Right Now". According to this experience – which is the "Real" way life enters and effects us – linear, chronological time is a poor, inefficient standard by which to relay or recreate that "Real" experience. You know how some movies reorder the sequence of events to make it fun, confusing, shocking to tell their story? That deeply felt "Aha!" moment when we finally get it, when it all sorts out in our minds. That experience is in fact what makes up "Reality", but occurring much, much more frequently. Occurring constantly, incessantly, eternally, like a never ending nuclear explosion in the mind. It's a terrifying, exhilarating jet stream of 'Aha!s" that constitute our experience of "Reality". You must respect the nature of the phenomenon of "awareness" if you are hoping to instill in your audience, not just information or a mood or a feeling, but a profound "Real" experience. Once you "tune in", then everything (suddenly?) falls in line and you find yourself. You find yourself not just "watching" and "considering" and "understanding" what's going on, but above all, experiencing it. It nearly feels as though it's your own original experience. Nearly.

David's 'Rabbits" is a device to recreate his experience not just for our eyes, ears and hearts, but for our consciousness. At the moment we are "watching" his "Rabbits", we are also experiencing life in our nonlinear, personal way. Most people just aren't aware of it. The linear, sequential flat time of "traditional" movies actually is at odds with how our minds are processing "Real" life, but we have learned - been conditioned - to translate as best we can this unnaturally occurring movie information. As we have gotten accustomed to this convention of linear movie time, we have been adopting, and accepting, an inferior reality. A "Real" moment is "experienced", not just watched and heard. And a "movie" is only experienced as "Real" if our minds are processing it in the exact same manner it processes "Real" stimuli, which means not sequentially, but in an echoing, repetitive, staggered, disrupted, broken, vague order. David's "story" has therefore been translated so that it is similar, parallel, consistent with everything else that our mind is experiencing at the moment "Rabbits" is being "watched." You just have to understand the "language" that it's been translated into, which David gives some helpful directions to right at the very beginning and all through. It's by performing the slightly complex contortions of your awareness in order to experience his "story" that you are "opening" yourself up to fully receive, experience it. Once you make this necessary adjustment of your awareness you then "see" so much more clearly. It's one hell of an experience - the anxiety, dread, terror, horror, relief, joy, surprise, and desire are experienced much less out of confusion and much more so out of clarity. There's a "story" underneath, behind, around, within all this seemingly random oddness. That "story" is a very intense experience. And the experience is in the moment of accepting it.

Sounds complicated but it's just like those 3d pictures that look like a flat repetitive pattern, but when you focus your eyes just right, you suddenly can "see" into it a very deep, dimensional object or scene that appears "real". You shift your focus just ever so slightly, and it's gone, flat and meaningless again. Same thing here, but the shift in focus is not with your optical vision, but with your awareness. The place or attitude or moment we must shift our awareness to is the key to unlocking the whole experience. And that's easy and tricky.

It's an astounding process that David has employed. It's something he gleaned from his 32+ years of Transcendental Meditation. And all this just describes the process we must pass through to "get on" the right "eyes" in order to experience the "Real Story" that is "Rabbits". The "Real Story" is in the mind of the creator but it's equally in the mind of the viewer. True Theater of the Mind. It's like turbo-ultra-3D in the mind. And all done without drugs or a severe concussion.

I came upon this awareness through his "Inland Empire" where "Rabbits" are so powerfully effective as an element of reverential doom(?). I transposed my experience with "IE" to find my "way" into Rabbits, which has a much less specific "story" compared to "IE." When you happen upon the "way" it all rushes up to greet you. You will know "Rabbits".

This is one of the more bizarre films featuring humans in fluffy bunny suits.

David Lynch juxtaposes Sartrean existentialism and American sitcom with an eerie, industrial-noir soundtrack to create a compelling, hellish universe like only he can.

Also, this is maybe one of the greatest uses of bunnies in storytelling, since Lewis Carroll (with the exception of Hugh Hefner).

With the recent influx of rabbit suits in other indie films, like Gummo and Donnie Darko, one can only expect this trend to grow and explode on the catwalks of Milan and Paris.

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.

This has got to be one of the most bizarre things that I have ever seen from Lynch. This was very creepy. There are moments when nothing happens, and then the rabbits start talking with one another, and it's utterly frightening. I can't believe Naomi Watts was in this. I thought that was pretty cool. The whole atmosphere, from the darkened room to the thunderstorm and train sound effects, adds up to an experience that you won't soon forget. It's fun trying to figure the mystery out. Part of that can be accomplished by putting together the puzzling dialogue in each episode. Hopefully, these shorts will be released on DVD soon. I also hope that "Lost Highway" and "Wild at Heart" also get their DVD releases soon.

Even by the standards of a David Lynch film, Rabbits is strange. It runs just over 40 minutes, making it borderline feature-length, though I think the cutoff is usually 45 or 50 minutes. It takes place on what looks like a soundstage. There are just three characters. There's only one camera angle (I think).

It seems to parody a classic sitcom due to how the characters move around and get applauded when they enter the room. There's also a laugh track used at just the most random of moments, and every time, I'll admit part of me wanted to laugh, but I might have just been nervous (or I've been conditioned by laugh-track heavy sitcoms. Maybe it can happen to anyone!)

If you try to analyse it alongside the then-recent Mulholland Drive, maybe you could see it tying in? Both are very creepy, and while Mulholland Drive is about filmmaking, Rabbits is about filming a sitcom. Two sides of the same weird coin that is David Lynch's take on Hollywood?

This short film is boring and repetitive, but it definitely has a unique atmosphere that keeps things a little interesting throughout. It's undeniably a one-of-a-kind movie, and given I think I could sort of scratch the surface as to what it was about, I'm sure there's a lot that I haven't been able to unpack. Unfortunately, unpacking a slow movie where not much happens is sort of like unpacking a suitcase after you've returned from a long holiday: it's kind of boring, you don't want to do it, and sleep is more enticing.

In a nameless city deluged by a continuous rain, three rabbits live with a fearful mystery.

Starring Naomi Watts, Laura Elena Harring and Scott Coffey (though you wouldn't know - they all wear rabbits heads) this short series set in one room with an unmoving camera this Lynch series is possibly the weirdest thing he has ever done. With a screenplay given the Burroughs' cut-up treatment the answers come before questions or the answers come episodes after the original question and occasional episodes featuring singing cut-up monologues (one featuring Rebecca del Rio) this is obviously meant to baffle the viewer. Luckily, like all Lynch works, it doesn't matter whether you understand or not (I sure don't) you're moved by it anyway. It takes a few episodes to get into the swing of it (at which point you'll want to rewatch the first few) but by the end of it I was sure what I had just watched was absolute genius

Here, we get a David Lynch-ized sitcom set and our three characters, dressed in Rabbit suits. The "mystery" is knawing at these characters although what they say is often incomprehensable. On top of this, the piece is supported with a laugh track. I know what you're thinking. It's an absurdist film, right? No.

I don't know how they did it with these elements that would seem laughable from afar, but you know what? You turn off the lights in your room and you watch all eight parts to this, and you'll have nightmares for a week. David Lynch can make anything terrifying. A complete surprise in mood. You won't forget it.

I couldn't stop laughing and saying "What the eff". I found out later it was a horror movie.

I highly recommend this if you're in an altered state. I actually have no idea what the movie was about. I need to watch it again. I'm not sure if you are purposely watching it that it will have the same effect, though.

This was years ago. I just happened to run across it here on IMDb so I figured I would comment about what a trip it was.

My wife also always tries to tell people about it but we never even knew what it was called until now.

I had known of David Lynch's made-for-his-website shorts called Rabbits long before his latest feature-length film came out, Inland Empire, and when I saw what he had taken from the shorts into the picture it worked a lot better than taken out of context and left by their own. The interpretations can only be so many- are the rabbits meant to be symbols of emotively-drained TV caricatures, or are they just, um, rabbits? The shorts ended up working better in I.E. because they could go alongside with the other wild and manic scenes of surrealism, and be in a much stronger sense of 'dream-logic' when taken as part of the completely non-linear structure of the picture. By themselves, they're much more confusing- even as a Lynch fan I admit this- and to use the word often maligned with auteurs, it's self-indulgent to a fault. It's not that seeing how the rabbits interact isn't absorbing in the sense of wanting to see what will happen next, or when the laugh-track is implemented. But what the shorts lack are clearer ties to what is being abstracted. Only Lynch knows, which is just as well. I wasn't unhappy to see the Rabbit segments on their own online, and a few times the ultra strange humor that may or may not be the point of these cinematic exercises. But I wish it could've been more on their own legs, or ears, or whatever. It's not like it's nothing, but it's not as substantial of a Lynchian 'something' as usual with his shorts.

As far as I can see, it's that simple. 'Rabbits' is a sitcom. It's not a sitcom in the traditional sense, or any normal sense for that matter, but it's a sitcom from David Lynch's point of view.

One recurring theme in all David Lynch movies is that he has a very uncompromising vision. Whatever he wants on the screen is what's ultimately on the screen, regardless of whether it's commercially viable or not.

'Rabbits' is simply what David Lynch sees when he watches a sitcom. He sees animals placed in predetermined roles, forced to forgo any passion or meaning, instead focusing on hollow, meaningless lines of dialog, and cyclical patterns of behavior.

Why does the laugh track play when nothing funny happens? Perhaps David Lynch is asking the same question. He watches a sitcom, and after a character says something that didn't seem funny at all, the audience erupts with laughter. The humor and situation are forced onto the characters and setting. It wasn't a joke because it was funny, it was a joke because the laugh track played.

So what's the meaning? I don't think there is one, and that's the point. In order for there to be meaning, the rabbits would need to have some sort of freedom, or control over their situation, and they have none. They're in a situational comedy, and thus enslaved by their 'situation'.

This mini-series is the epitome of Lynch's dark and abstract side. Like his other work that falls under this broad and vague category (Mulholland Drive, Lost Highway, Eraserhead), Rabbits is easier felt than explained. Having watched the entire series twice over the past weekend, I have started to form hypotheses on how this could be applied to our world... but there is no true explanation, nor does it warrant one. The feeling you get by the end of the series is inexplicable and truly Lynchian. The camera-work (on a DV) is beautiful and demonstrates Lynch's talents as a painter. There is some really thought-provoking poetry involved, especially when each of the Rabbits gives a soliloquy. And without spoiling anything, there are some truly frightening moments. A must-see for Lynch fans and fanatics, and great reason to join davidlynch.com. I can't wait for Axxon N!

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.

I have been reading lots of reviews of Lynch's film on this site, and there seems to be two opinions of his work. You either think he is a genius with deep complicated work, or you think he doesn't make any sense. After seeing a few of his films I have formed the latter opinion. This conclusion came to me while watching Rabbits, David Lynch's films only make sense to David Lynch. There is no deeper meaning behind it all it just doesn't make any sense. Just because you don't understand something doesn't make it genius.

It starts out with two actors in rabbit heads in what appears to be an apartment, one is ironing and one is sitting on the couch reading the paper. Another rabbit soon joins them and thats when the laugh track starts. Basically the rest of the movie is the rabbits making totally out of context remarks to each other followed my more laughing, them this face appears and starts chanting or something.

I Didn't spend too much time trying to analyze this film because when I pondered over Mullholland Falls for two days after I saw it, I told myself i would never spend that much energy on a Lynch film again.

I can see where people could say Lynch is a good filmmaker. Twin Peaks was very good. But it just getting ridiculous now.

I give it a 3 of 10

It's spooky, it's strange (hell it's even funny) and it's dangerously spellbinding!!! Rabbits is the mother and father of all nightmares. The acting, the movements, the lighting and the colors are all brilliant and some of the singing of Rebekah del Rio reminds you of Greek tragedy.

I always say that there are no bad David Lynch films. There are just people who don't understand them.

Once you take the trip down the abysmal world of the subconscious, you don't want to wake up. We all have fears and we all definitely have Rabbits in our heads. CAN'T WAIT for INLAND EMPIRE...

This is an aesthetic experiment by David Lynch, exploring weirdness and confusion feelings. The dark set with great usage of light and shadow, together with enigmatic and possibly meaningless dialogues and characters who are antropomorphic rabbits for no reason create a mystery atmosphere, which is disturblingly contrasted with the laugh and applaud track in sitcom style placed in moments they never fit. Released an year after great Mulholand Drive, the three-actor cast is entirely composed by actors of the feature movie, included the leading duo, although here the two gorgeous Laura Harring and Naomi Watts cannot be recognized under the dark brown rabbit masks.

I think the movie sets out to do exactly what it was design to do. David Lynch basically got a huge kick out of seeing all the reactions of the people who saw it, I mean it's a real knee slapper. He made it for himself folks. It's entertaining for him to see how people are so easy to manipulate into seeing something that isn't there. There's no deeper meaning. I think people should critic themselves instead of the movie. For anyone who has said or will say in the future "Well, yes I can see exactly what kind of experience he wanted to create for the viewer, while at the same time trying to convey a sense of.....blah blah blah" I have this to say.....No you don't...the joke's on us buddy!!! I was going to give it a 1 for the time I've wasted on that. But then I thought that, since I got a big kick out of people trying to give me their own analysis of it, I wanted to give it a 10. So I'll give it a 5.

The single camera is fixed on a wide shot of a sparsely-furnished, eerily-lit apartment, a subdued den of deco and menace. Yes, a glance confirms, Mr. Lynch is caretaker here.

For five minutes, as Badalamenti's synths sigh over distant fog horns and muted thunder, we watch the rabbit people--actors in cheap rabbit suits worn under drab human clothing. Their day is winding down. They work at an ironing board, sit on the art deco sofa, rise, sit down again, exit, return, sing some verses about "dark, smiling teeth," and trade dark, smiling dialogue. The rabbit people play to an unseen studio audience, which greets their entrances with on-cue applause and their oblique lines with canned laughter. Minutes pass. . . Then: a superimposed mouth begins a demonic incantation. A huge match burns. The camera blurs out of focus, and then--you'd better believe it!--refocuses.

That's it. The result is weird, beautiful, unnerving, and, frankly, never far from being boring.