The soundtrack of a movie can often make or break its reception. A perfectly placed piece of music can introduce a film in a blaze of glory or can tie together plot lines and leave you watching distorted credits through teary eyes. Some films have that one song that lasts in the memory - like the shower scene from Psycho. Other films such as Birdman employ a rumbling score which rumbles on throughout the entire feature to create a visual/audible whole. Mulholland Drive mixes these two elements masterfully by juxtaposing eerie synths and glass cutting ballads.

David Lynch is without doubt one of the best examples of a cinematic auteur alive today. In The New York Times, Stephen Holden said that Mulholland Drive "ranks alongside Fellini's 81/2 and other auteurist fantasias as a monumental self-reflection." Quite what this reflects about Lynch is better left alone. Despite his utter insanity, his weird and wonderful works have influenced countless directors after him and set the standard for boundary-pushing cinema. From the disturbing Eraserhead, to the era-defining Twin Peaks, to his music and coffee brewing ventures. There is no director quite like Lynch.

David Lynch began working with composer Angelo Badalamenti when he needed a singing coach for Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet. After being unable to secure the rights for 'Song to the Siren' he co-wrote 'Mysteries of Love' with Badalamenti. The process was an unusual one with Lynch giving Badalamenti a scrap of paper with vague lyrics and the instruction: "Oh, just make it like the wind, Angelo. It should be a song that floats on the sea of time. Make it cosmic!" This unique collaboration style would continue on Mulholland Drive as Badalamenti explains in an interview with Film Score Daily:

"On both Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive, I gave David multiple music tracks, which we call "firewood." I'd go into the studio, and record these long 10-to12-minute cues with a full orchestra. Sometimes I'd add synthesizers to them. I'd vary the range of the notes, then layer these musical pieces together. All would be at a slow tempo. Then David would take this stuff like it was firewood, and he'd experiment with it. So that's what a lot of the "musical" sound design stuff is that you're hearing. David really creates beautiful things with it."

Mulholland Drive saw Lynch and Badalamenti's firewood approach pay off in spades. Sitting alongside be-bop, jazz and '50s pop songs lies a bed of eerie strings and synths. 'Silencio' and 'Pretty 50s' (written by Lynch and John Neff) typify the two distinctly different types of music found in Mulholland Drive and replicate the unstable nature of the narrative.

Without attempting to explain the plot of Mulholland Drive, the most widely accepted theory around the film is that everything on screen depicted as reality should be questioned. The film's tagline - "A Love Story in the City of Dreams" - should also be affixed with 'and Nightmares' as the LA depicted in Mulholland Drive is rarely seen through rose tinted glasses.

Nothing in the film is signposted or clarified and the rug of reality is often pulled from under the feet of the viewer. One of the film's most famous scenes comes after a pair of auditions which set up the devastating third part of the trilogy. At an audition for a film, one auditionee sings the '60s pop song 'Sixteen Reasons (Why I Love You)' followed by a second auditionee singing another early '60s track - 'I've Told Ev'ry Little Star'. Both performances were lip-synched but Lynch chose not to reveal this in the film which sets up the third performance illusion.

Club Silencio is the setting for Rebekah Del Rio's rendition of 'Llorando' - a Spanish language cover of Roy Orbison's 'Crying'. Lynch previously featured 'In Dreams' by Orbison in Blue Velvet and is clearly a fan of the crooner with his dark-tinged ballads neatly reflecting Lynch's love of exposing the seedy underbelly of American life. After being subjected to over 100 minutes of textural synths and strings, the cutting a capella of 'Llorando' is a stark contrast - especially with the song being performed in (almost) its entirety.

Introduced as both herself (Rebekah Del Rio) and 'La Llorana de Los Angeles' - the compere plays on the idea of identity. Is the singer the real performer Rebekah Del Rio? Is this singer 'Rebekah Del Rio' the character? Or is she 'La Llorana de Los Angeles' - a ghost from Hispanic folklore who according to tradition, is a beautiful woman who drowns her children in the Mexican river as a means of revenge because her husband left her for a younger woman. She soon realizes that her children are dead, so she drowns herself in a river in Mexico City. Challenged at the gates of heaven as to the whereabouts of her children, she is not permitted to enter the afterlife until she has found them. She is forced to wander the Earth for all eternity, searching in vain for her drowned offspring, with her constant weeping giving her the name "La Llorona". She is trapped in between the living world and the spirit world - in the same way the characters of Mulholland Drive are trapped between the real world, dreams and nightmares.

"No hay banda, there is no band, il n'est pas de orquestra!" - is stated by the compere of Club Silencio along with: "it is an illusion." This does little to stem the surprise of Del Rio's collapse, as the constant hallucinations, chaotic visuals and eerie music do little to disrupt the impression that what we see is reality.

With Mulholland Drive, Lynch has tapped into the twilight zone between reality and illusion, dreams and nightmares, life and death. From the Hollywood seen on screen in the movie to the physical place - nothing is real.