If David Lynch‘s Wild At Heart is so great, why can’t I remember a single scene or shot from it? Okay, I remember a closeup of Laura Dern‘s crazy feet on top of her bed, excitedly “running” without moving. But literally nothing else.
I didn’t actively dislike Wild At Heart. I remember sitting there and saying to myself, “Yup, this a Lynch film, all right.” I vaguely recall feeling underwhelmed and letting it go as soon as I left the theatre, but that was 27 and 1/2 years ago.
Nic Cage‘s Sailor Ripley is a southern outlaw borrowed from mid ’50s Elvis mythology, Dern’s Lulu Pace Fortune is constantly anticipating sex or panting about something or other, and they both embody the title.
I can’t honestly say I have the slightest urge to check it out again. I certainly wouldn’t buy this Bluray. Okay, I might stream it someday to remind myself which aspects I didn’t care for 27 and 1/2 years ago. I’d watch a Bluray of Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, The Elephant Man or The Straight Story without a moment’s hesitation.