If Lynch were merely providing us with these commodities, he would merely be an exploitation filmmaker. We want rock 'n' roll? The Nicolas Cage character in "Wild at Heart" talks and walks like Elvis, and even sings two of his songs. We want drugs? Dennis Hopper, in " Blue Velvet," will inhale a substance so forbidden that no one has even been able to figure out what it is. We want sex? He'll give us undreamed-of perversity.
Show-biz executives have a cynical shorthand formula for commercial success: "sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll." Lynch's work is exclusively concerned with these three elements, but in an angry, self-hating way he shoves our nose in it.
"Wild at Heart" is a cinematic act of self-mutilation, a film that mocks itself.
0 kommentar(er)
