This is from the review
"But wait, you can almost hear Lynch chortling in his eternally gleeful, gee-whiz voice, there's more! The Inland Empire DVD has a second disc with an additional 75 minutes of 'more things that happened'- that's right, a full 40 percent bonus of free standing opacity, relentless hard-bitten monologues, kaleidoscopic mystical flashes, intense allegorical interludes, and spookily abstract patterns, together fomenting an even farther-reaching ecstacy of disorientation.
Does this plethora of new footage in any way 'make sense' of the movie? Not to worry: these spasmodic episodes/episodic spasms only reinforce the film's cryptic feedback-loop circularity, dropping clues and hints that amplify certain situations (interstices between the actress and her doppelgangers; a long, dolefully fabulist scene in English between the crying woman and the sinister Pole in which she tries to buy a magic watch from him to change her 'luck')without clarifying a thing. It is not so much that these passages flesh out aspects of the film as they constitute yet another alternate reality unto themselves, refractions of the original's themes and light coalescing into a separate, complementary oddball entity- a second mind or a third eye contentedly gazing back into the movie's mirrors within fractured mirrors."
To be continued...

"'I'll warm up some dinner,'Laura Dern says in her housewife persona, the ominously tacky clock on the wall looming in the dark like an exploded Aztec sundial. Homey-messy domestic outtakes are followed by a serpentine flashback to 'a night like any other night': The housewife doesn't recognize her surroundings anymore; she turns a doorknob, and behind it lies that earlier life, the actress's persona. She finds her own body sprawled on a hotel room floor. Personae become lacunae: the actress on the floor is talking to her lover on the phone, but hearing the Polish phantom's voice in her head. Wearing *beep* sunglasses, smeared lipstick bruises, or poor wifey's striped blouse (it must have come from the Jasper Johns aisle at K-Mart), Dern radiates an unbroken gravity that holds the two Inland Empires in place and thrall: a black hole illuminated from within, fathomless disintegration shot through with tragic lucidity, horror elevated to an offering for cruel gods.
In other words, this is the most profound fun you can have without personally doing 'The Locomotion' with a finger-snapping room full of choreographed hookers or having a total fugue-state breakdown where you glimpse the ultimate inexpressible truth of existence. Also note the toy flying-saucer scene, confirming the suspicion that Ed Wood is among the multihued ghosts haunting the production, to incongruously telling effect."