Where Do We Get Our Gods?
Somehow, Dennis Hopper got me in his car. Not the Easy Rider or the Waterworld Hopper, either. This was the Frank Booth version. Straight out of Blue Velvet—or Hell—unbridled libidinal aggression and all. The unholy father, ruler of the eponymous American underworld. That weird, sadistic sex-mongrel motherfucker. That Frank Booth. The one that cried ‘Mommy’ between Isabella Rossellini’s […]