Give an unreliable filmmaker an unreliable narrator and you get David Lynch’s “Lost Highway.” Along with the highway, I also lost two-plus hours of my life I’ll never get back. Unless I value the time I spent watching Patricia Arquette. I can imagine in 1997 a lot of couples saw Arquette and Bill Pullman on the same marquee and figured it was a win-win date movie. Then Robert Blake shows up in pancake makeup and lipstick. You can’t unsee that. Then bodies start hitting the floor thanks to a sax player who’s jealous, or hallucinating, or something. But definitely unreliable.
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I swear, some people would praise David Lynch if he barfed. The problem with “Wild at Heart” (1990) is that he’s trying too hard to be stylish and not nearly hard enough to be good. Summary: Older, crazy, alcoholic rednecks are trying to kill younger, stupid, chain-smoking rednecks. Nicolas Cage plays himself, but with an Elvis accent. Laura Dern stars in her own porn movie within the actual movie. Diane Ladd plays the same character twice – with a Southern accent and without, sometimes in the same scene, sometimes in the same sentence. They’re all surrounded by gross weirdos. And barf.
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