It is a truly offbeat dream-poem of a movie about the loneliness of the open prairie roads on the graveyard shift. The plot winds together several seemingly unrelated storylines united by the fact that all the characters listen to the same two-bit radio station, and seem headed for a common fate. The tension occurs because a serial killer is roaming the highways among the usual losers, misfits, daffodils and lonely hearts.
It's not quite a great movie because it tried to dominate the entire experience with murky tone and forlorn bluesy dialogue, and that is a difficult meal to concoct without grinding it all to cornball mush. The movie is the cinematic equivalent of a sad saxophone wail, and while it had some great moments, that type of mood is sometimes best left to the sax, because expressing it in dialogue can ring false and corny (the Sherilyn Fenn character was an unrealisticly shallow and cardboard cliche, for example).
On the other hand, if you have a taste for the offbeat, you may really enjoy this collection of anecdotes and vignettes. Because of a "this is my song, and I'm going to sing it my way" attitude, it's more interesting than a lot of big budget studio pictures.
A very eclectic cast
