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Yeah, that's the standard observation.
My choice of film drug is usually weed - I like the way it opens the whole thing up. I think alcohol may innure you to some of the drama, but, then again, in Blue Velvet's freaky case that might not be such a bad thing.
Very, very mild spoiler:
I watched it with my sister, Matty, recently (she was a BV virgin, jus' like you Hardy!) and half way through she turned to me:
"Man, that Frank's really FUCKED UP!"
Oh, yes.
I recommend NEVER approaching Lynch's stuff with a "Whoooooah! Weeeeeird!" cap on. It just creates a silly barrier between you and the work, and, y'know, it's not that weird. Sure, his plots twist and bend, but our Dave's films always make emotional sense and have everything to do with walking, talking real life. It's just a different mode: Hollywood could look pretty strange to someone unfamiliar with the modern (read: WESTERN) approach to narrative and construction of self.
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