The discovery of a severed human ear found in a field leads a young man on an investigation related to a beautiful, mysterious nightclub singer and a group of psychopathic criminals who have kidnapped her child.
An earthquake of a movie when it was released, Blue Velvet begins as a collage of a Mr. Rogers-worthy suburban neighborhood—with Crayola colored roses and white picket fences—quaint until a moldy severed ear is discovered in a local park and the film dives down a bizarro rabbit hole. With a cute Hardy Boys-esque patina, and steeped in the lethal eroticism of a neo-noir, Lynch’s grotesque small town mystery articulated his unique filmmaking taxonomy with a host of now-legendary characters and moments — like Dennis Hopper (in a career reviving performance) as depraved gang-leader Frank Booth, huffing from his gas mask to Roy Orbison songs, and the enigmatic, masochistic Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini) hanging her curly-haired head back in Jeffery (Kyle McLaughlin)’s naked arms, yearning for love. No less hideous or thrilling today than it was at the time of its explosive release 30 years ago, the newly restored BLUE VELVET is a crime, a lie, an addiction, a caress, and all the time we are together… in dreams.