In many ways, the opening sequence of Blue Velvet captures perfectly the ironic, slightly sinister but also darkly amusing take on americana which is prevailent in much of Lynch's work. His perspective is undoubtedly a fascinating one, both terrifying and strangely magnetic. As the father collapses to the sounds of fifties pop, its dreamy often delicious melody lulls the viewer, evoking a mood that continues throughout a film where one experiences an almost halluogenic view of the underbelly of an everyday american town. It could be argued that it is Hopper's portrayal of psychotic madman Frank Booth that captures centre stage, and he is without doubt a truly memorable cinematic creation. However, it was the naivety of Kyle MacLaclan's youthful character, combined with Rossellini's interpretation of a tortured but beautiful sexual paradox, both predator and victim which I found most interesting. Their relationship, and the violation of MacLachlan's innocence that it initiates is both startling and frighteningly magnetic. The claustrophobic world of Blue Velvet is somehow liberating, Lynch casts aside the viewer's expectations and perceptions, they are shed much like MacLachlans fragile innocence, his percieved corruption a watershed for the viewer.
There have been some gripes about the technical virtues of the DVD itself, however I had no problems whatsoever. The picture quality was great as was the sound. If you're some kind of DVD anorak [no offence intended] you might find some obscure detail to take issue with; but as far as I could see, the film was in no way impaired.
The film is quite simply brilliant, although its conclusion is perhaps a little too neat. On the whole however, it is a great production and well worth your money. An american film by an american director which could almost be labelled a work of art. You can't proclaim that too often.