Don’t turn your back on love!
My old review of this film strikes me now as a little glib and cursory, but then a film of such excesses isn’t likely to sustain a great deal of thoughtful contemplation. This is probably still a polarizing film in Lynch’s career, or at least one that gets overlooked in favor of more extreme oddities. But it’s definitely his most out-and-out fun film (crushed and exploding skulls notwithstanding), one which catches the wave of Twin Peaks’ absurdity and license, and surfs all the way to sunny Cannes. In between the moments of insanity and abandon, Lynch displays his usual sensitivity to mood, as in Sherilyn Fenn’s gut-wrenching car-crash scene, but it’s the less sensitive, more bombastic parts that stick: a random burst of horns as Sailor and Lula pull up to Perdita’s shack, Bobby Peru verbally raping Lula, Jingle Dell, the utterly ridiculous dialogue, and every single thing about that “crazy fucking bitch” Diane Ladd. You may quibble that Lynch follows his errant muse a little too far, but would we have Reservoir Dogs without this film? I’m not so sure.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: MGM DVD
17 Jan 2008 5:36 PM | Comments (1)
One of the better pieces of criticism I’ve read on this movie compared it to The Beatles’ White Album- it’s messy, there’s too much going on and not all of it works, but what would you want to get rid of? The parts one viewer finds expendable will be another person’s favourite scene. There’s just so much to love, so many perfect little touches, and it’s an absolute feast for Peaks fans- you’ve got Jerry Horne grooving down the street, Grace Zabriskie going apeshit in a wig (“Fuck me now, Reggie!”), Sheryl Lee as the good witch, and most memorably Jack Nance at the motel… “mentally, you picture my dog…”
tom
17 January 2008
3:16 PM
Website