Has David Lynch just become a friendly caricature of American oddness? I mean, once you turn sixty, start evangelising about meditation and release your own brand of coffee - how strange can you really be?
A new five-disc DVD collection gives a before-and-after glimpse of Lynch's career. You can start with the industrial nightmare of fatherhood that is Eraserhead, and then wash your mind clean afterwards with his early short films like the adorable The Frenchman and The Cowboy.
A mood-disordered green hairy homeless person hanging out with a gay worm, a bird who lives in a vacant lot in Harlem, hallucinating that his best friend is a woolly mammoth, children going home with a strange man named Bob for "milk and cookies". A monster smoking a pipe while hosting a TV show - then eating the pipe.
In 1986, before headbangers were (ironically) hip, when camera crews were still a novelty worth cavorting drunkenly before, a dude from D.C. borrowed some gear from the local TV station where he worked and went down to the sports arena before the big Judas Priest show. The rest is heavy metal history.
From its mid-20th century heyday to popular neo-noir incarnations, film noir has proven that deep down we're all gloomily romantic at heart. Noir maintains its perverse appeal across national borders, budgets and genres, but is ultimately inseparable from its retro, post-war American crime context of bad dames, lonely gumshoes and dark alleys.
Richard Kelly won fans with his slice of moody postmodern angst, Donnie Darko. Now the long-delayed, much-maligned Southland Tales finally arrives, and brings with it this question:
Uh, what the fuck?
Southland Tales is a sprawling, semi-satirical apocalypse flick, populated by visionary porn stars, amnesiac celebrities, giant dirigibles, and other Warhol wet dreams.
Skateboarding - it's not for everyone. It's noisy and painful and something many of us grow out of when we get into the serious business of finding a career, attending art openings and DJing. Thanks to the MTV treatment, skating is no longer an underground activity and although there are hundreds of public skateparks, they're all swarming with little kids on razor scooters.
There seems to be an unspoken law that says every film festival must feature a new Takashi Miike film. Luckily, he churns out multiple features a year without a care for genre, taste, or traditional three-act structure. This unpredictable output ensures he has his share of misses, but when he hits, he hits hard.
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