The Straight Story, which the director interestingly doesn’t claim a writing credit for, is a homespun tale of americana, the apple pie version of Lynch. It’s the flip side of his dark America, something that the imagery of the sprinkler early on, that keynote of Blue Velvet, reminds us of. It seems fair enough that Lynch, the great dissector of the dark underbelly of his country, should also honour it in this fashion, and Alvin Strait’s journey towards reunion with his estranged brother is genuinely moving, as evinced by the round of applause at the film’s conclusion from a packed Cinemateca audience. However, there were times when it felt as though what we were witnessing was the US brand of Soviet social realism. The tractor itself feels like a signifier that could come from either side of the Cold War divide, and it encapsulates those things the two superpowers had in common. Vast lands that look inwards more comfortably than outwards. Countries whose values are defined by their rural heartlands, whose great cities are outliers rather than cornerstones of empire. The endless plains of central russia map on to the endless great plains. Alvin’s journey pays homage to the more homely values of the USA - this is a world without villains, drug taking, or Indians to kill. The sentimentality of Lynch’s vision here pays tribute to the soft power of these supposed US values, and if it wasn’t for all the times he has defrocked those values, this film might have felt like propaganda.
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