"In the 1980s, it felt like you knew where you were with cinema. On the one hand, big studios blew big budgets on cute aliens hanging out in cupboards, the perils of bumping into your parents while time travelling and locating the best people to call should you find yourself being haunted. On the other hand, you could rely on indie directors like David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch and Alex Cox to blow your mind with a steady stream of subversive, alternative, gritty visions of reality, to take you on journeys that involved slow-talking weirdos, drunk punks and nuclear MacGuffins (and, for some reason, a lot of men with giant quiffs). Studios gave you one type of hit, indies took you somewhere else."
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