This cult favorite is mistaken by many to be stylish and innovative, but really, like much of David Lynch's work, it's just a narcissistic cinematic exercise in substanceless flair. Blue Velvet is a brummagem. It's easy to look at the cinematography and listen to the allegedly dramatic minimalist soundtrack and make the critical error of assuming that this is an artistic work of significance. The reality of it all is that there is no story here to tell. Beneath the arty dialogue, there is nothing. Lynch selfishly exploits his audience as a backboard for his bizarre, would-be vision and offers back nothing in return. Inexplicably, some enthusiasts of modern cinema find Blue Velvet just their cup of tea. I'll take my noir with a plot and a point, please.