Reading some of the other reviews of this quirky little movie, I was amazed at how much I have apparently missed the twenty or so times I've watched it. Either that, or these other reviewers were stoned. I suspect the latter. Having a puff or two before watching 'True Stories' isn't a bad idea, though, as it seems to make one more receptive to the experience. I disagree with the other reviewers mentioned however; I find nothing 'deep' about 'True Stories.' It's a sophisticated new wave New Yorker's look at eccentric Texas rubes, alternately snide and endearing, with no greater meaning than that, intended or observed. Byrne, who directed and co-wrote, has crafted a funny little flick that tries just a bit too hard to be bizarre about very mundane matters but does display a wickedly silly wit at times. It's full of Byrne's Talking Heads music too, which is a perfect fit. The story, such as it is, concerns about a half-dozen residents of Virgil, Texas; their everyday lives and the town's preparation for its celebration of special-ness. There is the lonely guy who advertises for a wife; a woman who never gets out of bed; a conspiracy-minded preacher; another woman who never tells the truth about anything (and who is appropriately named 'the lying woman' in the credits); one of the town's leading couples, who never speak to each other (directly, anyway); and an old psychic of sorts, who is hired by the lonely guy to cast a spell and find him 'someone to love.' The film is really a series of barely-related vignettes and musical numbers. Byrne is both the narrator and a featured player. It's never clear why he's in Virgil, other than to make comments that are by turn, bland, nonsensical, and just plain odd, all delivered dryly with a straight face. Highlights include a strange fashion show (though it's a bit over-the-top, even for this movie), a church service set to a great Talking Heads song 'Puzzling Evidence,' karaoke night at the local bar, and a take-off of commercials, again set to a Heads song, this time 'Love For Sale.' The reason I call this a 'self-parody' is that 'True Stories' ends up being far more a spoof of Byrne himself, his attitudes and sensibilities, than of the intended spoofees. One can almost picture him and his collaborators snickering between takes at the clever little potshots they are taking at all the hicks and rednecks. Good performances, particularly by John Goodman, Spalding Gray, and great old Pops Staples, infuse 'True Stories' with a good deal more oddball warmth than I suspect Byrne ever intended. But in doing so, they tend to disprove what seems to be the film's central premise, that these people are loonies who 'don't want freedom (or) justice.' Crazy, maybe so, but they're doing just fine, even if they are a couple of thousand miles from New York City. 'True Stories' is one of those rare movies that is better, and funnier, than it was supposed to be.