Wild at Heart ★★★★½

Ghost Rider channels his inner Elvis in this trippy David Lynch tale of an outlaw and his girl who share a wild, forbidden, and erotic love. Locked up. Naked Laura Dern. Motel fucking. Brett after his ride on the Nostromo. Urinal chit-chat. Extreme-dirty-dancing. Snakeskin jackets will get you laid. A post-fuck smoke. Erotic touching. Fuck you parole! Fuckin' Santos. A payphone. Shit and tits. Silver dollars. The best housemaids ever. A tasty cock. Jazzy Jazz. Mr. fuckin' Reindeer. A bOner. Jingle Dell; Santa Smells. Jukebox. Lipstick sunburn. Corpsefucker. Chris fuckin' Isaak. Fire, Fire, Fire. Carnage. Demonic moaning. Fuckin' witches. A rocket scientist. Triple-trailer-park hotness. John fuckin' Lurie's trucker hat. Motherfuckin' Bobby fuckin' badass fuckin' Peru. Knocked-up. The way Nic Cage smokes. Warm, Wet, Kitty. Who doesn't want to fuck Bobby fuckin' Peru? Willem Dafoe's teeth. Red high-heel shoes. A lucky guess. The Yellow Brick Road. Easy fuckin' money. Pantyhose. The infamous Nic Cage laugh. DeFUCKIN'capFUCKIN'aFUCKIN'tation. Jailhouse letters. Good witches are smart. Valuable lessons. Reunion. A sweet and tender love song. Nic Cage is a fuckin' maniac. He used to be one badass motherfucker. Laura Dern is smokin' hot. Willem Dafoe oozes awesomeness and should've received an Oscar nomination. Diane Ladd is awful but in a good way. You hate her and she earned her Oscar nomination. You either love or hate a David Lynch film. I fuckin' love this.

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