During the fifth race at a horse track several incidents occur, which are seemingly unrelated to the casual observer but, of course, are all part of a masterful plan as conveyed by the knowing looks between a number of men. Johnny Clay (Hayden) is the de facto mastermind of the job and a savvy crook who understands the odds: “Anytime you take a chance you better be sure the rewards are worth the risk because they can put you away just as fast for a $10 heist as a million dollar job.” He plans to take his cut and fly off with his girlfriend and childhood sweetheart Fay (Gray).

Kubrick skips around chronologically to introduce all the significant players in the drama: bartender Mike O’Reilly; track cashier George Peatty (Cook) and his shrewish wife Sherry (Windsor); as well as her lover Val (Edwards); gambler Marvin Unger (Flippen); with two hired hoods – sniper Nikki Arcane (Carey) and brawler Maurice Oboukhoff. Like most heist films, everyone has their own agenda and nobody can be trusted. Kubrick establishes these characters, shows their roles in the job and their respective fates in its aftermath.

The Killing features an impressive cast with the likes of Sterling Hayden, a veteran of these kinds of films (see The Asphalt Jungle) and ideally-suited as the no-nonsense leader. Idiosyncratic character actor Timothy Carey has a small but memorable role as a grimacing sharpshooter, but it is Elisha Cook and Marie Windsor who steal the show as a deeply dysfunctional couple. She is a two-timing schemer who has her husband wrapped around her finger (or so she thinks) while he’s the proverbial doormat, ignorant of his wife’s duplicitous ways. Some of the film’s best scenes feature their rocky relationship – one that can only end badly.

Like most film noirs, The Killing chronicles the inevitable countdown to the doomed finale for all involved. We know it’s coming, we just don’t know how and one of the perverse thrills is watching as everything goes horribly wrong. An early film in his career, Kubrick already demonstrated a masterful touch as he orchestrates a meticulously plotted heist film with the confident hand of a seasoned maestro. He also shows his knack for observing human behavior – in this case that of the criminal mind as he illustrates how a carefully planned job is ruined by greed and jealousy.

Special Features:

On the first disc is an interview with producer James B. Harris who talks about working with Stanley Kubrick and, of course, The Killing. Harris recounts how he met the director and the genesis of this film. He gives a nicely detailed account of several aspects of the production and his contributions.

Also included are excerpts from a 1984 interview with actor Sterling Hayden for French television. He talks about working in Hollywood and with Kubrick. Quite the colorful character, Hayden is refreshingly candid about his experiences making films.

“Polito on Thompson” features Robert Polito, author of Savage Art: A Biography of Jim Thompson, talking about the legendary writer’s relationship with Kubrick and the problems he encountered while working in Hollywood. Kubrick was a great admirer of Thompson’s books, especially his knack for writing dialogue, and wanted to utilize this strength in The Killing. Polito recounts how the two men met and their collaboration on this film.

There is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with a fantastic extra for Kubrick fans – a newly re-mastered transfer of Killer’s Kiss (1955), a low budget film noir the director made prior to The Killing. Shot on the streets of New York City, it concerns a small-time boxer by the name of Davey Gordon (Jamie Smith) who is past his prime. He becomes romantically involved with his neighbor and dancer Gloria Price (Irene Kane) while also getting mixed up with her violent boss Vincent Rapallo (Frank Silvera). Kubrick’s background in documentaries is evident in the way he shoots every day life in New York. The city is almost a character unto itself and the film serves as a fascinating snapshot of a metropolis that no longer exists.

Film critic Geoffrey O’Brien talks about Killer’s Kiss. He compares it to a student film in the sense that it was done for very little money, was an opportunity for the young Kubrick to experiment, and demonstrates his promise as an aspiring filmmaker. He points out that there is a loose, almost improvisational quality that would be less evident in later films as Kubrick became a more skillful director.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

The film begins with a barefooted woman (Leachman) running breathlessly along a stretch of highway road at night. Mike Hammer (Meeker) nearly runs her over. He picks her up and it’s a decision he will regret later. Even though Hammer gives her a hard time he lies for her at a police roadblock when he finds out she’s escaped from a mental hospital. However, they are run off the road by three unidentified men and over the soundtrack we hear the woman’s terrified screams which carry over to the next scene where she’s being tortured but all we see are her dangling feet, leaving the rest to our imagination.

The men attempt to get rid of Hammer and the woman by staging a car accident that he somehow survives. Once he gets out of the hospital, government officials unsuccessfully grill him. Why? And who was the mysterious woman and why was she killed? Intrigued and understandably pissed off at almost being killed, Hammer decides to get some answers – ones that lead to something bigger than he could have possible imagined.

Kiss Me Deadly is saturated with a paranoia vibe, like when Hammer comes home from the hospital and carefully checks out his apartment for intruders. Later on, his secretary, Velda (Cooper), warns him to stay away from the windows because “somebody might blow you a kiss,” which implies that someone is trying to kill him. Aldrich employs shots of Hammer talking to people as if he’s being spied on by someone and this keeps the viewer on edge. Later on, things get serious when Hammer finds dynamite and a bomb rigged to blow up his car. Aldrich also doesn’t skimp on the violence, which must’ve been shocking for its time. Hammer viciously beats a man who tries to kill him with a switchblade by punching him down a flight of steps. In another scene, Hammer disables a henchman so quickly and efficiently that he scares off his cohort.

Ralph Meeker anchors the film with his uncompromising performance. Hammer is a crude, sexist man with a deep distrust of authority, anticipating Dirty Harry by several years as a righteous avenger with his own brand of justice. Meeker is a good-looking tough guy that does a fantastic job of portraying Spillane’s protagonist.

Kiss Me Deadly features a smart, cynical screenplay by A.I. Bezzerides who tweaked the book’s setting and removed the first person voiceover, but retained the hardboiled attitude. Aldrich’s film takes us on a journey through the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles culminating in an explosive finale that would influence the likes of Repo Man (1984) and Pulp Fiction (1994). It came out around the time that other grim, bleak noirs, like Pickup on the South Street (1953), were starting to appear, and anticipated films like Touch of Evil (1958) Don Siegel’s The Killers (1964).

Special Features:

There is an audio commentary by film noir experts Alain Silver and James Ursini. They talk about how Kiss Me Deadly is a commentary on the 1950’s. They point out innovative things for the time, like how it begins in the middle of the action before any opening credits, which play over the film backwards like a road sign. They point out that Aldrich wanted to turn the source novel on its head and use the female characters to comment on and critique Hammer. In addition to the excellent analysis, Silver and Ursini provide biographical and production information on this solid track.

“Director Alex Cox on Kiss Me Deadly” features the English director praising the film and talking about how radically it differs from Spillane’s book. He describes Aldrich as a “bold and radical” filmmaker.

“Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane” is a condensed cut of a 1998 documentary about the author’s life and career in which he also agreed to participate. Fellow writers and admirers speak highly of the man and the innovations he pioneered in crime fiction. Fascinatingly, Spillane wrote for comic books in their early days along with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. This is a fantastic primer on Spillane and his work.

“The Long Haul of A.I. Bezzerides” features excerpts from this 2007 documentary where writers Barry Gifford, George Belecanos, Spillane and Bezzerides talk about the film version of Kiss Me Deadly. Spillane criticizes the script as “lousy,” while Gifford calls the film a classic. Bezzerides says that he changed what he didn’t like about the novel and wrote his own version, “fixing” it.

“Bunker Hill, Los Angeles” features writer and L.A. film buff Jim Dawson talking about some of the film’s locations. We learn about the rise and decline of the Bunker Hill neighborhood. Dawson points out where in the city key scenes were shot in this fascinating tour.

“Altered Ending” shows the truncated ending which offers a much different fate for Hammer. A minute of footage was cut out from the film and finally restored in 1997, which is the version of the film that is on this DVD.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

Sidney Falco (Curtis) is an unscrupulous press agent, a bottom feeder who does anything he can to get his clients mentioned in mainstream publications like The New York Globe. For some time, he’s been trying to get in the good graces of J.J. Hunsecker (Lancaster), the most influential newspaper columnist in the city. He’s even willing to break up the romance between Hunsecker’s kid sister Susan (Harrison) and Steve Dallas (Milner), an up and coming jazz musician, by planting a story that her boyfriend dabbles in drugs. Falco sees Hunsecker as “the golden ladder to the places I want to get,” which is a position where he’s the one calling the shots instead of spending all of his time hustling.

Odets’ much celebrated hard-boiled dialogue crackles with energy and intensity as evident in the scene that introduces Hunsecker. “You’re dead son. Get yourself buried,” is how he casually dismisses Falco. “Match me, Sidney,” is another witty remark courtesy of Hunsecker. Falco gets his own clever remarks as he tells Hunsecker at one point, “Cat’s in the bag and the bag’s in the river.” In a film like Sweet Smell of Success, words are weapons which men like Falco and Hunsecker use to destroy people with no remorse.

The film was quite a risky venture for both Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster at the time. They were popular box office draws and their roles in Sweet Smell of Success were very different from what their fans were used to seeing. Curtis, in particular, wanted to shed his pretty boy reputation by taking on more substantial material while Lancaster was a maverick within the industry and formed his own production company in order to generate personal pet projects like Sweet Smell.

Right from the opening shot, Mackendrick presents New York as a busy, claustrophobic and noisy place drenched in noirish shadows. It’s a place where heartless individuals like Falco and Hunsecker prey upon the weak. While the latter was based on infamous gossip columnist Walter Winchell, he is also a predecessor to muckraking gossip hounds of today, including websites like TMZ and feared industry insiders like Nikki Finke. Sweet Smell of Success, with its snappy acerbic dialogue, anticipates the stylized tough guy banter of David Mamet and the fast-talking characters in Aaron Sorkin’s television shows. It was one of the rare, uncompromising films from the 1950s that dared to be critical of the establishment and still get made and released within the system. The folks at the Criterion Collection have given this cinematic classic the deluxe treatment it so richly deserves.

Special Features:

Time to throw away the bare bones MGM DVD that was released years ago as this new edition features a pristine transfer that restores the Sweet Smell of Success’ exquisite black and white cinematography, and includes several wonderful extras.

The first disc features an audio commentary by film scholar James Naremore who wrote the BFI Film Classics book on Sweet Smell of Success. He offers excellent analysis of various aspects of the film and also provides biographical detail on the principal cast and crew. In addition, Naremore provides important details on Walter Winchell, the inspiration for the character of J.J. Hunsecker. He also takes us through the genesis of the film in this engaging and very informative track.

Also included is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with “Mackendrick: The Man Who Walked Away,” a 1986 documentary about director Alexander Mackendrick that runs 44 minutes in length. Contemporaries, like Burt Lancaster, and fellow filmmakers, like John Milius, speak highly of the man. Mackendrick himself talks about his beginnings in advertising thanks to his aptitude as an illustrator – a skill he applied to his filmmaking. This doc sheds light on this often-forgotten film director.

“James Wong Howe: Cinematographer” is a 1973 documentary that features the Academy Award-winning director of photography giving a tutorial on film lighting. In addition, he also tells some entertaining filming anecdotes from his illustrious career and shares his approach to cinematography.

“Gabler on Winchell” takes a look at the columnist that inspired Hunsecker in the film. We learn of Walter Winchell’s importance to American journalism, including the notion of celebrity and the concept of personal style in reporting. He grew to great prominence in the 1930s and wielded a lot of power with the ability to make or break people’s careers.

Finally, there is a 25-minute interview with director James Mangold (Cop Land, Walk the Line) who was one of Mackendrick’s students. Mangold recalls his initial impressions of Mackendrick and what drew him to the man. He says that in his teachings, Mackendrick stressed the ability to tell a story, an understanding of acting, and how a scene worked. Mangold speaks with obvious affection for his mentor in this engaging extra.

“I coulda lied there forever, but the phone rang.” And with that bit of hard-boiled narration we are introduced to the world of private investigator John Rosow (Shannon), a rumpled burn out cut from the same cloth as Elliott Gould’s gumshoe in The Long Goodbye (1973). Rosow is hired by an attorney over the phone to tail a man (Wood) from Chicago to Los Angeles by train. Rosow may come across as a burn out but when it’s called for, he displays the necessary private eye skills: paying off a taxi cab driver to tail his target, pulling a fast one on the hotel clerk where the man is staying at, and listening in on the man’s room.

Rosow eventually finds out that there is much more to this mystery man than meets the eye and that there is much more to the job than he was initially led to believe. Halfway through the film, the story veers off in an unexpected direction that gives the film noir genre an interesting spin as we gain significant insight into both Rosow and the man he is following. Without giving too much away, we begin to realize that the film’s title applies not only to Rosow’s target but to the private eye himself.

Writer/director Noah Buschel makes good use of Michael Shannon’s world-weary face. Rosow seems to sport a permanent grimace as if every action were a painful chore. It doesn’t help that he appears to be a barely functioning alcoholic. Over the course of the film, it becomes apparent that he is haunted by memories of his past that come to him in his dreams. Through several flashbacks, Buschel hints at a happier time for Rosow when he was involved with a beautiful woman that was probably his wife. Shannon doesn’t overplay his character’s affectations but does make one aware of them by the way he carries himself and through body language.

Buschel has a good ear for snappy film noir dialogue, like when Rosow trades barbs with two FBI agents that are tailing him. It evokes a bygone era which juxtaposes rather nicely with the contemporary setting. For example, Rosow is approached by a dishy, femme fatale (Colin) type and asks her, “You’re not one of those gals that uses sex as a weapon, are ya?” to which she replies, “No. I don’t like violence.”

While Chicago is photographed by cinematographer Ryan Samul to look drab and drained of color, L.A. is sunny and vibrant so that Rosow, with his plain brown suit, looks out of place. Like Gould’s P.I. in The Long Goodbye, Rosow is a man out of time. He listens to music from the 1950s and dresses like a gumshoe from the 1940s which is rather fitting seeing as how Shannon looks like an actor who could’ve had a pretty good career appearing in film noirs from that era. Shannon is fascinating to watch and is an actor that makes interesting choices when it comes to a given scene. The world weary private eye genre has been done to death but Shannon, along with Buschel’s excellent writing, keeps us engaged for the entire running time of The Missing Person.

Special Features:

None.

The Sniper (1952) features Edward Miller (Franz), a lonely troubled man – a ticking time bomb ready to explode. He served time in the psycho ward of a prison for hitting a woman. Miller tries desperately to get help but no one will give him the time of day. He has trouble relating to women and takes out his frustration by shooting and killing them with his sniper rifle. Arthur Franz does an excellent job of playing a conflicted serial killer. You can see the inner turmoil all over his face and in some ways he’s kind of a tragic figure – a cinematic prototype for Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver (1976).

In The Big Heat (1953), police detective David Bannion (Ford) investigates the suicide of a fellow officer who was ill. However, an ex-lover of the deceased tells Bannion that it wasn’t suicide. She soon winds up brutally murdered and despite pressure from his superiors, Bannion continues his investigation. He soon finds himself butting heads with a powerful gangster and his vicious henchman played by a young Lee Marvin. Glenn Ford is quite good as a loving family man and dedicated cop. Bannion is willing to pursue a case with single-minded determination despite all the obstacles thrown in his path. He’s also tough and more than capable of taking care of himself in a fight.

Based on a short story by Jack Finney (who wrote the book that Invasion of the Body Snatchers was based on), 5 Against the House (1955) features a quartet of Korean War veterans enjoying themselves on a gambling trip to Reno, Nevada. They goof around and have fun trying to pick up women. One of them, Al (Madison), has a girlfriend named Kay (Novak) who is a sultry nightclub singer and the film’s femme fatale. Another one of the group, Brick (Keith), becomes extremely violent when provoked – a byproduct of his experiences in the war – so you know he’s going to be trouble later on in the film. The quartet returns to college and the humdrum routine of the daily grind. The brainy one of their group devises a plan to rob one of the casinos in Reno for one million dollars. Of course, this being a film noir, it isn’t going to be that easy and the “perfect” plan begins to unravel.

Director Don Siegel wastes no time as The Lineup (1958) starts off with an exciting chase as a taxi cab driver tries to drive away with a stolen suitcase, runs over a cop and is shot and killed. Inside the case is a statuette containing $100,000 worth of heroin. The cops return the case to its owner in the hopes that he’ll lead them to a possible narcotics ring. Siegel does a good job showing us the process of a police investigation: inspecting the crime scene, questioning witnesses, the forensics lab and organizing line-ups of potential suspects. Eli Wallach plays Dancer, a sociopathic hitman who figures into the drug deal. He’s a consummate professional judging from the way he questions the driver of his car for the job at hand. The Lineup’s most memorable sequence is an exciting car chase that takes place on the then-unfinished Embarcadero Freeway in San Francisco and anticipates other intense chases in The French Connection (1974) and To Live and Die in L.A. (1985).

The last film in this set is Murder by Contract (1958). Claude (Edwards) moonlights as a hitman who doesn’t make mistakes. He’s pretty sure of himself and smart. He does a few jobs, saving up the money he makes to buy a house. Claude’s latest job takes him Los Angeles where he’s contracted to kill a woman who is set to testify against the mob. It’s the first time he’s had to kill a woman and his cool confidence is visibly shaken. She’s heavily guarded by the cops and Claude has to bide his time and pick his moment. Murder by Contract takes it time to show Claude’s methodical nature and how it is put to the test with this latest assignment.

Special Features:

The Sniper features an audio commentary by author Eddie Muller. He starts off talking about the origins of the film – a husband and wife writing team. He mentions that it was a very controversial film at the time because of its subject matter. Muller provides all kinds of fascinating production details, like how much of the film was shot on location in San Francisco. He explains that The Sniper is a landmark film because it was one of the first to prominently feature a serial killer.

“Martin Scorsese Presents The Sniper” features the legendary filmmaker talking about the documentary feel of the film thanks to the use of authentic locations.

Also included is an original theatrical trailer.

The Big Heat starts off with “Michael Mann on The Big Heat.” He speaks admiringly about the prominent female characters in the film. The director talks about the ethnic aspect of the film as well as the uncompromising nature of Glenn Ford’s character.

“Martin Scorsese on The Big Heat” features the director talking about how Ford’s character becomes what he’s fighting against. Scorsese draws particular attention to the flat look of the film and how director Fritz Lang directs us to the behaviour of the characters.

Also included is the original theatrical trailer.

The only extra for 5 Against the House is the original theatrical trailer.

The Lineup includes an audio commentary by author Eddie Muller and James Ellroy. Muller says that this film started off as a television show cut from the same cloth as Dragnet. He plays the straight man on this track, rattling off facts, while Ellroy is his usual colourful and profane self offering his bizarro opinions on this film. He sings the praises of Don Siegel’s more than capable direction. Fans of Ellroy will love this track as he gets to cut loose have some fun commenting on The Lineup.

“The Influence of Noir with Christopher Nolan” sees this respected director citing noir as an influence on his own work, most notably the psychological states of the characters, the atmosphere and the style in relation to the substance and how they all interact with one another.

Also included is the original theatrical trailer.

Murder by Contract features “Martin Scorsese on Murder by Contract.” He reminisces about when he first saw the film as a teenager and how it would later influence aspects of Taxi Driver. The director speaks admiringly of the “economy of means” – how Irving Lerner depicted the passing of time. Scorsese gives us a brief background to Lerner and talks about how he got to know and even work with him.

Finally, there is the original theatrical trailer.

Le Doulos begins with typical noir imagery: a man in a hat and trenchcoat walks along deserted city streets to a foreboding score that seems to hint at his impending doom. The man’s name is Faugel (Reggiani) and he’s just been released from prison. In a matter of minutes he kills a local fence for his money and jewelry – apparently settling an old score.

Faugel meets up with Silien (Belmondo), a criminal associate who is a ruthless sociopath not above tying up and slapping around Faugel’s girlfriend for information. He ends up double-crossing Faugel on what should have been a routine home invasion. The cops show up, shots are fired, people die, and Faugel narrowly escapes despite being wounded. He realizes that Silien set him up and decides to get revenge. As the film continues, one quickly picks up a decidedly fatalistic vibe: this is not going to end well for anyone.

Fresh off of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (1960), Jean-Paul Belmondo is excellent as a cold, calculated criminal that is oddly charismatic thanks to the actor. Our sympathies like with Faugel as played by Serge Reggiani because he is being unfairly set up by Silien. Or is he?

Melville presents a tough, criminal underworld where life if predictably cheap and on one can be trusted. They are tried and true clichés but are executed so well that they seem fresh and new. There are no truly good or bad characters in this film – there are elements of both in everyone in Le Doulos. Melville plays with out notion of perception and includes plot twists that keep us guessing right up to the final scene.

Special Features:

There is a select-scene commentary by film scholar Ginette Vincendeau. She talks about the opening credit sequence and how it establishes the themes of Le Doulos. Stylistically, this sequence evokes American film noir of the 1940s. Vincendeau picks a scene that develops the character of Silien. She analyzes the clothes that the characters were. Finally, she takes a look the film’s conclusion and how our perception of the characters and the events in the film change.

“Archival Footage” features excerpts from three French television programs from the 1960s and 1970s. In the first one, Melville and Belmondo talk about the film. In the second one, Reggiani is interviewed about his career and is quite candid. In the last one, Reggiani is a few years old and talks about the film with Melville joining him.

Also included is an interview with filmmaker Bertrand Tavernier who was a publicist for Le Doulos. He talks about meeting and working with Melville. The actor offers his recollections of working on the films and he tells some good stories.

There is an interview with filmmaker Volker Schlondorff who was an assistant director on Le Doulos and he talks about his impressions of Melville. He goes on to tell some very engaging and fascinating stories about the man. Good stuff.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

To break down the labyrinthine plot into a reasonably concise statement is not easy, but here goes: Two actresses; one involved in a car crash in Hollywood and left with amnesia; the other just arriving in town with the naive hopes of becomming the next Nicole Kidman, cross paths. Sweet Betty (Watts) decides to try and solve the riddle of who Rita (Harring) really is and why she’s carrying wads of cash in her purse.

Fans of neo-noir will be in their element here. Indeed, there’s a deliberate look about the film that hints at Hollywood style of the fifties. The classic ‘woman lures man into shady dealings’ setup is swiftly turned on its head with both the female leads hiding who they really are. And this is Lynch, so if you want the story to add up to something linear, you might as well try and unwravel that old piece of knotted string in your kitchen cupboard.

As with the recent Donnie Darko, this is a film that positively demands repeat viewings, not only to fully realise the structure of the story, but to notice little in-jokes and references that you missed first time around. Nothing is what it seems, and characters float in and out of the story, sometimes as completely different people – such is the dream logic of the film.

Whilst Betty and Rita are trying to find Rita’s memory, film director Adam Kesher (Theroux) is having a hard time with the studio about casting his new movie and having to deal with his cheating better-half (a laugh-out-loud scene involving pink fluorescent paint is something to treasure forever). The beauty of Mulholland Dr is separating each character’s memories/dreams from reality. (I’ll give you a clue: The Dinner Party scene is the key to the whole story).

Fans of the director have declared this the ultimate Lynch experience, Empire magazine gave it the full monty, but despite its glowing reviews and awards, it has divided audiences on both sides of the pond. Like Vanilla Sky, it’s either something you love or hate, with very little room inbetween. You have to work hard to make sense of it all, and the casual renter may be left with a ‘what the hell just happened?’ scowl on their face. But film-fans may be left with a pleasantly stoned look in their eyes and drool running down their chin (and not just from the steamy lesbian sex scenes).

Special features:

Sadly Lynch isn’t a fan of DVD extras and hunting around on other versions, the most I found were some Cannes interviews on the Region 2 disc. Here you get a trailer and some brief filmographies. He also doesn’t like chapter stops because it spoils the flow of the film, so you can’t jump to a specific scene. But the film is the main thing here and it looks great (a little too great – at the cinema it was dark and shady, on crystal clear DVD the colours jump out and the overall look of the film is lighter. Indeed, a nude scene has obviously been digitally blurred to save the actress’s embarressment).

The one niggle I had was with the running time, but this is coming from the bloke who’s sat through the 3-hour Two Towers twice so far, so it’s not a major gripe. The lack of extras lets it down too, but you can’t help but feel a director commentary from the man himself would ruin the surreal effect of the film. It would be like watching a magician do tricks and then explain them in detail to the audience. I love commentaries, but sometimes things are better left to work out for yourself.

However, the music is a stand-out and the dialogue clean and crisp despite the director’s tendancy for tread-softly sound design (people who saw Lost Highway know what I mean). He goes to a lot of trouble to create original sounds, from the haunting moans over the end credits, through to Angelo Badalamenti’s score, which veers from bizarre comedy (the afforementioned pink paint scene) to spine-chilling horror with ease. Badalamenti is surely one of the most original and under-rated film composers around, and MD shows some of his best work to date.

To conclude: The acting is exceptional (Watts is a force of nature in both ‘roles’) and Lynch fans will be in heaven, but even if the casual observer were to come upon the film and be left stone cold, there’s no denying it would stick in their heads, and in the age of mindless blockbusters, that’s definitely something to applaud.