Popular Culture Review Vol. 1, December 1989 | Page 21

W ho answer the telephone.
People like us
Growing big as a house:
We don’t want freedom.
We don’t want justice.
We just want someone to love.
So far, then, we have a conflict between our anticipated
attitude of David Byrne based on what we know of his work in rock
music and the expressed attitude of the narrator (whom we recog
nize as David Byrne). This conflict; is further emphasized in those
scenes mentioned earlier in which the narrator is talking directly to
the viewer, usually while driving around the Texas countryside in
his red convertible. These scenes can hardly be explained as other
than satire. The deadpan delivery of the narrator in which he
appears so sincere results in a viewer’s distrust o f the narrator—or
at least in the viewer’s confusion. Consequently, this leads to a
questioning of all the rest of the material the narrator expresses.
How can we assume that he’s being straight with us in one scene
and then recognize his tongue in his cheek in the next? As Pauline
Kael notes, Byrne’s “unacknowledged satire” is as if Byrne “re
fused to see any implication in what he shows us,” as if he’s “so
afraid of giving offense that he wouldn’t let himself consider any
seaminess or think any harsh thoughts about his characters” (113).
The varied responses of the reviewers reflect this ambiguity.
Whereas some reviewers see the narrator as an “Everyman guide”
or a (not mute) brother from another planet” (Wyman 62), others
claim that “his neutrality masks scorn” (Coulson 26), that True
Stories is similar to Blue Velvet (released the same year) in that it
“attempts to portray the panic beneath the surface o f American
self-satisfaction” (Knoll 103). Richard Corliss, writing for Time
Magazine (in the issue which featured David Byrne on the cover
and referred to him as “Rock’s Renaissa