This movie is so bad, it deserves its own genre. I think I'll call it "film crappe". In the 80s, many gutsy directors experimented with an unconventional style as a response to the straightforward Speilberg formula we all know so well. Some directors were successful while others were just plain clumsy.



Blue Velvet falls solidly into the latter category. It is basically a Hardy Boys Nancy Drew story peppered with a lot of profanity, weird close-ups, and sexual grossness. "Sexual grossness" means that these scenes are so unglamorous and disgusting that not even John Holmes could get turned on. Trust me on this; I never thought I'd be yelling at the screen "Put your clothes on, Isabella, for all that's holy! I've seen enough beer belly for one night!"



Artistically speaking, Lynch wavers between surreal and stupid. The film begins quite well but quickly degrades as soon as the actors open their mouths. Dialogue isn't Lynch's strong point. He should stick to gore.



I'll give you one example of the film's cheesiness: In one scene, Laura Dern and Dune Boy (forgot his name) are talking in a car. She is describing her dream about God & love. The music goes to a pipe organ. They drive off, and the camera zooms in on a church for 3 full seconds. If you find this laughable, then man there's a lot more where that came from.



And just a personal pet peeve: Laura Dern's face when she cries. She does that annoying thing where it looks like she's smoking a stogie out of each side of her mouth. Fingernails on the chalkboard!!