I don’t care what anybody says, Wild at Heart is a great film. Roger Ebert, who I admire greatly, called the movie “dishonest.” But then I don’t think Ebert ever got David Lynch — he gave a thumbs down upon seeing the great instant American classic Blue Velvet — indeed one of the greatest films of all time. I’m not suggesting that Wild at Heart is at all up to the level of Blue Velvet, but if you’re part of the “Lynch Mob” as I am, you absolutely love it. Peter Travers of Rolling Stone was among the critics who were able to appreciate the movie:
Starting with the outrageous and building from there, he ignites a slight love-on-the-run novel, creating a bonfire of a movie that confirms his reputation as the most exciting and innovative filmmaker of his generation.
With foreshadowing of the mystical elements that would pervade Twin Peaks, Wild at Heart soars as the great alternative telling of Dorothy’s journey through Oz. More and more, especially looking at the still of Lulu and Sailor punk-dancing in a roadside field, I draw parallels to another film of that era, also by a gifted director: Natural Born Killers (stay tuned for my long awaited Oliver Stone post(s). One key difference: Lynch stopped making movies; Stone stopped making good ones). My recommendation: watch both as a double feature.
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Wild, wonderful, and weird to boot. A great love story, and truly great cinema.