A film that perfectly captures the true spirit of Christmas. Somewhere in the vicinity of Kennedy airport, two lost souls, trapped in a web of obscenity and loathing, play out their terminal lives. All that divides the couple is the little problem of sexual difference, which of course drives the male into psychosis and leads inevitably to a destructive climax. Oblowitz charts their drift through a twilight zone of motel rooms, highways and bars in beautiful black-and-white, but pays equal attention to the sound-track, a dense collage of voices adrift from bodies, music and demented radio stations - an ice-pick for the viewer's ear. It's very funny and deeply moving, and Oblowitz's association with New York's 'New Wave' thankfully counts for nothing. Think instead of Glen or Glenda, Throbbing Gristle and Eraserhead. What the latter did for one-parent families, King Blank does for nice heterosexual couples.