Cult films don’t get much cultier—or, paradoxically, appeal to a wider audience—than the David Lynch masterpiece Blue Velvet. In this ass-clenching exploration of the filthy underbelly of Reagan-era suburbia, a Hardy Boy-esque Kyle MacLachlan discovers a severed ear and tumbles headlong into a mystery that turns darker and uglier by the second. An emotionally broken femme fatale, a gas-huffing sexual sadist/crime boss (never order a Heineken in front of this man, by the way), freakish dandy Dean Stockwell, icky visuals of bugs and the robins that eat them, and a sweet-as-pie Laura Dern as the embodiment of true love make this flick just as fun as when it first blew your mind way back in 1986. Good times!