Rewatched May 03, 2012
oswald hobbes’s review:
There's a reason this is every Frenchman's favorite Lynch - the characters, maybe or maybe not aware that they are in an art film, pull their car over at random intervals to jump out and spastically dance to generic thrash metal, and have long, unselfconscious discussions about how much they like smoking cigarettes and fucking each other. Pretty easy to follow, and Lynch's pop culture signifiers - Elvis, The Wizard Of Oz, fucking FIRE - are familiar and (more importantly) ripe for Lynchification. Cage is a dynamo; the way he spits "What do you faggots want?" at a crucial moment is the real "national treasure." Am I right?