David Lynch’s 1992 prequel to Twin Peaks focuses on Laura Palmer’s final days, stripping away the TV series’ whimsy to confront trauma, abuse, and institutional failure with unflinching rigour. Sheryl Lee’s performance anchors a film defined by dissonant sound, claustrophobic framing, and narrative austerity. Though polarising on release, it has been re-evaluated as a major work of psychological horror and arthouse cinema.
Abbas Kiarostami’s 1997 Palme d’Or winner follows Badii, a Tehran man driving the city’s fringes in search of someone to bury him after he kills himself. With Homayoun Ershadi in a performance of near-total restraint, and Homayoun Payvar’s cinematography holding space without emphasis, the film builds meaning through repetition, silence, and landscape. Its power lies in what it omits — backstory, score, explanation — and in its radical final shift to documentary-style footage of the crew. It is arthouse cinema at its most disciplined: austere, ambiguous, and deeply humane.
David Lynch's first film after Twin Peaks follows Bill Pullman's jazz musician, arrested for a murder he cannot account for, who inexplicably becomes a different young man midway through. Written with novelist Barry Gifford and shot by Peter Deming in near-total darkness, it was a box-office failure on release that has since built a devoted following willing to sit with a story that refuses to resolve.