Rumble Fish

Rumble Fish ★★★★½

You're better than cool, you're warm. A rare film defined by lights, a bolt of lightning consistently illuminating the forefront or the background of the frame, Rourke is incredible, as is Dillon. What has always made Coppola so important is his ability to assess and manipulate dual narratives - the adolescent high-life intertwined with the sprawling street war, as reality-and-dream are intertwined in Twixt, as the past and the present are intertwined in The Godfather Trilogy, as what's seen and what's unseen is intertwined in The Conversation. It is undeniable that Coppola is purely fun, this is compulsive viewing just like the rest of his work.

Why are you fucked up all the time, one way or another, huh? I don't know. Progressively more gripping as it continues, I am hooked on Coppola, he has set my viewing habits to a blank slate. Watching his work feels like a natural state of being.

Running off into the mist, greasy, sweaty, losing it, running places and never getting anywhere outside of this: your own little cosmos, so instead you just try to regulate it as best you can. Pretending to love crowds and heroin because you'd prefer to be boxed in so that you can forget yourself, and if that's not possible then at least you can shoot up. Addiction and depravity run rampant, so does love.