Cage famously makes extraordinarily big and bold choices, whether that involves eating a cockroach onscreen to get into the mood for Vampire’s Kiss or having two teeth pulled so he could really feel his character’s pain in Birdy. Twin Peaks was such a left-field triumph that it gave Lynch the leverage to do whatever he wanted to do for a follow-up.īeing a giant weirdo, what Lynch wanted to do was write and direct a surreal, southern-fried Neo-Noir about scaldingly hot young lovers in trouble based on Barry Gifford’s hard-boiled novel Wild at Heart that doubled as a redneck comic book riff on The Wizard of Oz, with Lynch’s muse Laura Dern burning up the screen as sexpot Lula Pace Fortune and Nicolas Cage channeling Elvis Presley as her violence-prone boyfriend Sailor Ripley, who due to an egregious lack of parental guidance, drifts into a life of low-level criminality.Ĭage doesn’t just give Sailor’s honey-dripping Southern drawl an Elvis inflection or vibe: he flat-out spends Wild at Heart talking and acting exactly like The King.
Twin Peaks wasn’t just a hit it was a goddamn sensation, a pop culture phenomenon that made its legendarily eccentric creator an unlikely household name and a Time cover boy. The preeminent oddball cinematic auteur had, through some strange twist of fate, become the co-creator of the most talked about show on television, a trippy, sexed-up nighttime soap opera about the denizens of a strange town called Twin Peaks. It’s hard to overstate just how hot David Lynch was when Wild at Heart was made.
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