Alright folks, settle in and adjust the tracking. Tonight on VHS Heaven, we're digging out a real curiosity, a dusty little gem that might have slipped past your radar back in the day unless you were a dedicated David Lynch completist or caught a lucky late-night broadcast. Forget the dark corridors of Blue Velvet or the whispering pines of Twin Peaks for a moment. We’re heading out to the sun-baked desert for 1988’s utterly unique short film, “The Cowboy and the Frenchman”. Finding this felt like uncovering a secret handshake amongst Lynch fans – proof that his brand of wonderful weirdness could pop up in the most unexpected places.
### Not Your Average Franco-American Summit
Picture this: It's the late 80s, France is gearing up to celebrate the bicentennial of its revolution, and someone has the brilliant idea to commission a series of short films called "Le Français vu par..." ("The French as seen by...") asking international directors for their take. Who do they tap for one of these slots? None other than David Lynch, fresh off the unsettling brilliance of Blue Velvet (1986) and unknowingly on the cusp of changing television forever with Twin Peaks (1990). Given carte blanche and a modest budget from French producers, Lynch delivered… well, exactly what you might expect Lynch to deliver when asked for his view of the French meeting the American West.
The setup is deceptively simple: Three cowboys – the lanky, hearing-impaired Slim (Harry Dean Stanton, a Lynch regular radiating effortless cool), the perpetually bewildered Pete (Jack Nance, another cornerstone of Lynch’s troupe), and the slightly goofy Dusty (Tracey Walter, instantly recognizable) – are minding their own business on a remote ranch when a bizarre sight appears. A dapper, utterly lost Frenchman named Pierre (Frederic Golchan) stumbles into their world, complete with stereotypical accoutrements like a baguette, an accordion, tiny bottles of wine, and even a miniature Eiffel Tower souvenir. He speaks no English, they speak no French, and what follows is less a plot and more a sequence of gentle, amusing, and slightly surreal interactions.
### Where the Weird West Meets Gentle Humour
This isn't a gun-slinging Western or a sophisticated French drama; it's pure Lynchian observation filtered through a comedic lens. The humour stems from the awkwardness of the encounter, the failed attempts at communication, and the sheer oddity of the situation. Harry Dean Stanton, as always, is magnetic. His Slim is the anchor, observing Pierre’s antics with a mixture of curiosity and quiet amusement, his deafness adding another layer to the communication breakdown. There’s a wonderful scene where Pierre tries to explain his sophisticated French palate while the cowboys chow down on unidentifiable grub. It’s played not for cheap laughs, but with a kind of bemused affection for both sides of the cultural divide.
Lynch, even in this lighter mode, can’t resist his signature touches. The sound design is distinct, focusing on ambient noises – the wind, the clinking of spurs, the crickets. The pacing is deliberate, allowing moments to breathe in a way that feels both meditative and slightly strange. Shot on location in the stark beauty of the Mojave Desert, the landscape itself becomes a character, emphasizing the isolation and the incongruity of Pierre’s arrival. Look out for another Lynch stalwart, Michael Horse (Twin Peaks's Deputy Hawk), who appears as a Native American character observing the whole situation with a knowing look, adding another layer to the cultural tapestry.
### More Than Just a Commissioned Sketch
What makes "The Cowboy and the Frenchman" endure beyond its quirky premise is its genuine warmth. Despite the language barrier and cultural differences, a sense of connection forms between these characters. There’s dancing, shared food (however reluctantly), and a mutual, unspoken understanding that they’re all just people stuck in this peculiar moment together. It’s a far cry from the darkness often associated with Lynch, showcasing his surprising capacity for gentle sweetness, albeit still viewed through his uniquely skewed perspective.
For VHS hunters back in the day, stumbling across this short – perhaps on a compilation tape or a recording from a niche cable channel – felt like finding a rare B-side from your favorite band. It wasn’t a blockbuster, it wasn’t heavily promoted, but it was unmistakably Lynch. It demonstrated his artistic voice was consistent, whether dealing with suburban horror or a Franco-American desert encounter. It’s the kind of charming oddity that populated the further corners of the video store shelf, waiting to be discovered.
### Final Reel
"The Cowboy and the Frenchman" is a delightful miniature, a palate cleanser in the David Lynch filmography that’s full of charm, gentle humour, and that unmistakable Lynchian atmosphere. It won’t shake you to your core like his major works, but it absolutely captures his unique way of looking at the world, finding poetry and strangeness in the mundane (or, in this case, the utterly bizarre).
VHS Heaven Rating: 7.5/10
Justification: While undeniably slight compared to Lynch's features, this short is perfectly executed for what it is – a charming, funny, and uniquely Lynchian take on a simple premise. Excellent performances from the familiar cast (especially Stanton) and its status as a fascinating footnote in Lynch's career, born from a specific cultural moment, make it a highly enjoyable watch. It’s a pure distillation of his gentler, quirkier side.
Final Thought: It’s a reminder that sometimes the strangest encounters make for the sweetest memories, especially when filtered through the beautifully bizarre lens of David Lynch – proof that even a simple culture clash could feel like a waking dream in the late 80s video landscape.