![]() Some people want to call this art in the postmodern age, but no matter how inflated with esteem Lynch becomes, his art isn’t so great that it transcends political reading or vicious, regressive, conservative meaning. The Black victim has no personality, little identity (besides wielding a knife and uttering the film’s first few cuss words), and his death is never mourned. Not only does the white man win in Lynch’s view, he should win. This knock-down-and-drag-out is an epic battle of the races. ![]() Their physical aspects are drastically symbolic, highly connotative, and their actions carry definitive meanings. Taken on Lynch’s neosurreal level, these aren’t anonymous men fighting. A white man beats a Black man to a literal pulp -blood oozes, bones crack, body crumples. From the opening scene of Wild at Heart, David Lynch crosses the line between art and obscenity. ![]()
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