As a David Byrne fanatic, trying to curb curiosity of how exactly he would combine with an ageing goth rocker floating through life in Ireland, was a difficult task.
Fortunately the eccentrically brilliant front man did not disappoint when it came to giving a distanced Cheyenne (Sean Penn) a sounding board for his past guilt and despair.
Mascara’d to the max and seemingly disconnected from the world following his hellraising years in the musical limelight Cheyenne has made house out of the spotlight with his loyal, honest, and unassuming wife Jane (the amazingly witty Frances McDormand)
He would sweep the board in a Robert Smith lookalike contest - that or first place in a gothic scarecrow festival.
Cutting a slow, lost figure in the malls of Dublin or in his lavish mansion he drags a wheeled shopping trolley more fitting to the look of a pensioner to particularly comic effect.
His big break for redemption of a clearly chaotic past is to head across the pond where his father, who he has not uttered a word to in 30 years, has died.
Upon arrival his mission becomes apparent - to avenge his father’s humiliation at the hands of a tormenting German officer at a Nazi concentration camp during the Second World War.
Soon it transpires that this journey will give Cheyenne the chance to set his own soul free from his personal unhappiness - albeit through unusual sources that act to reintroduce him with the real world he has trained himself to forget.
The confiding in musical maestro and old friend David Byrne is stand-out powerful as their shared eccentricity bounces off each other.
Then there is the waitress with the child struggling to overcome his own humiliation of his fear of water and the old timer who invented the suitcase wheel to name other influences that expose and educate Cheyenne’s worldly naivety.
Visually, the film basks in a dreamlike surrealism, with Ireland’s backdrop set against dusky scenes from New Mexico, while as a plot it teeters on the edge of reality often swinging between the logical and the hallucinatory.
Witty, odd and emotionally powerful when it strips back the layers.