When "Blue Velvet" was released in 1986, it not only unsettled audiences with its severed ear, sadistic villain, and the entrapment of Dorothy Vallens, but also rewired the landscape of American cinema.
David Lynch's surreal exploration of small-town life blended the dreamlike with the deeply disturbing, playing like a nightmare in broad daylight.
It played like a nightmare in broad daylight.
In the wake of Lynch's passing, the film feels even more eerie, with what once seemed like artistic provocation now reading as a testament to the darker corners of his mind.
The author admits to discovering Lynch's work late, falling into it during his final years, which feels like entering a conversation mid-sentence, only to realize the speaker is about to go quiet forever.
Author's summary: David Lynch's film teaches about form and ambiguity.