If I may use a duck metaphor.....

David Lynch once compared filmmaking to a duck (he did, honest). Just as you see certain uniform things with a duck, so you do with films. Parts of it are like the beak, smooth and hard in texture, parts of it are like the legs, parts like the feathers, head etc, and what Mr Lynch is always searching for is the one duck's eye, or the jewel, as he calls it. That one magic moment, that must be placed in the absolute correct position on the film/duck's head.

I have no idea what he was on about. He is clearly demented. Films are in no way comparable to ducks. The man is mentally ill. And bagsy not being the one to point out to Dave that ducks actually have two eyes.

Nevertheless, in my pseudo-intellectual, moronically enthusiastic way, I'd say that in Mr Lynch's own work, the duck's eye in Mulholland Drive would be the scene with the lady miming to a recording of 'Crying' in Spanish. In the Elephant Man, it would be the moment when the missphapen-headed hero is finally treated like a human being to be interacted with, rather than a freak to be gawped at.

In House of Sand and Fog, I think the duck's eye moment comes about an hour in. It's all very greek tragedy, and you can sympathise with all the characters, as it is not their fault they have been thrown into confilct together, it is merely because the sadistic gods on Mount Olympus have been prodding them around on their divine chessboard to amuse themselves. Then Jennifer Connoly, who seems to have cornered the market in playing distressed, downtrodden lovelies who spend whole reels of film perpetually on the verge of tears, pulls her car up in front of the eponymous house that's the cause of all the bother. Drunk, abandoned and, if we're honest, a bit of a big girl's blouse, Jen decides to top herself. She uses her policeman boyfriend's handgun, but the daft bint doesn't know to take the safety off (a lack of education that could be easily rectified in american high school curriculums, one feels). Saint Ben Kingsley, the other principle player, spots Jen's car through his window, and stomps out to give her some gyp about continually parking her tanks on his lawn and getting all up in his face. Then he realises what's going down, and makes a decision. He decides to help her. I loved that. I really did. It's a stunning moment. The characters have been at each other's throats for the whole film, and despite everything, they come together for this one, duck's eye moment. Ben takes the gun off her, scoops her up like a 6 year old, and carries her blubbering ass into his/her house like he was her dad. Even though you know that nothing is going to work out for any of them, Mr Lynch and his ridiculous duck metaphor were what popped into my head at that point.

It's a good book too, kept me amused for an entire transatlantic flight.