The downside of an artist attracting a crowd is that he is tempted to start playing to it, and pretty soon his Unique Creative Vision gets broadened and coarsened and cheapened, and David Lynch starts looking like John Waters -- or making John Waters look like R.W. Fassbinder. Fitted in between the first and second seasons of his TV show, Twin Peaks -- a media triumph if no other kind of triumph -- Lynch's camped-up road movie follows two young lovers on the lam, their tanks fueled with Elvis idolatry and Wizard of Oz imagery. Forward movement, though, is impeded by unrhythmical cross-cutting and flashbacks, and such a high incidence of oddness and perversion as to turn it all as common and dull as dirt. That, and such a high degree of self-indulgence as to make it just too easy. Nicolas Cage, Laura Dern, Willem Dafoe, Diane Ladd, Harry Dean Stanton. (1990) — Duncan Shepherd
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