If the visions that come to us in the dead of night—the ones we’d most like to forget and shove violently back into our subconscious—had a cinematic patron saint, it would be David Lynch. In his latest, Inland Empire, the director continues to mine familiar territory: shifting notions of the self and identity, sexual violence, surrealist dream logic, and scaring us in the places in our minds we prefer not to acknowledge. Unfortunately, even with…