“Ordinary people? I hate ’em!”
National treasure Harry Dean Stanton teaches Emilio Estevez the way of the car collector in a bizarre slice of ’80s cinema which became a justified cult classic.
It’s many things jammed together in one rip-snorting package.
You get a coming-of-age tale, a satire of the Reagan years, a buddy comedy in which one guy is old and cranky and the other is young and cranky, and an alien invasion movie.
A quirky in the extreme pic which can’t be replicated, it’s not quite like anything else out there.
And that’s a very good thing.
He can’t drive 55.
Seriously, cause the old lawn mower Richard Farnsworth is gunnin’ across the American frontier tops out at about five MPH.
He’s on the machine because his brother is dying, and, despite being unable to obtain a driver’s license, he’s set on traveling 240 miles to make peace.
Beautifully-crafted by David Lynch, throwing another curveball in a career of them by going the G-rated route, it benefits immensely from a cast who seem like real people, and not movie stars.
It was the final role for Farnsworth, capping a 62-year run on the silver screen, and a beautiful farewell.