The chief downside to the great surrealists (Dali, Lynch, Bunuel, Van Damme, etc.) is that they always seem to be in complete control of their faculties. I've never watched a David Lynch film and thought to myself "oh god, this person is a menace to society and must be stopped," since everything on the screen is comfortably enveloped in a protective Artistic Masterpiece force field, no matter how psychically lacerating it might be.
As you might have guessed already, this is not an issue with The World's Greatest Sinner, the only feature film ever directed by Hollywood character actor/real world insane man Timothy Carey. Watching this movie is nothing like watching the preternaturally assured hand of a Lynch debut like Eraserhead, but instead like taking an 80-minute trip into someone's diseased mind, narrated by Paul Frees.