#1) Twin Peaks: The Return, by David Lynch & Mark Frost (2017)

 WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Twin Peaks in the 90s was a subversion of TV wasteland, an introduction to avant-garde storytelling in a world where cozy marketing was top priority. Twin Peaks shook viewers out of their normality, into the strange & mysterious. The style and attitude are a testament to its time. Today, we're spoiled with a landscape of cinema-style shows Peaks gave rise to, so when it was time for The Return, Mark Frost and David Lynch broke all the rules and introduced an entirely new form of storytelling never before seen. If there are seven kinds of stories, The Return introduces an eighth, an evolution of mythmaking with shades of classical voyage and rebirth story structures. Written and produced as a 17-hour movie, Dwayne Dunham’s had the unenviable task of chopping this up into 18 cohesive episodes. Already, episodic structure was evolving; instead of looking at episodes, we were looking at fragments of a bigger movie. Week after week, viewers were treated to something unexpected; bizarre contortions of form, stitching two parts into one movie, airing two parts separately back-to-back, mini-concerts, abstract art, road tripping, eventless quietude, and then, suddenly, glimmers of familiar. There were episodes that had fan service, like the lovable Part 16, and some that completely halted momentum, like the frustrating Part 12. And then there’s the acclaimed Part 8: Gotta Light? It’s the single most talked about episode of any show this decade. It breaks conventionality to such a degree that it makes some angry, and then they’re clamoring to see it again, trying to figure out what sparks their curiosity, what moves them.

Plot – “My log has a message for you…” –Log Lady, Margaret Lanterman

Twin Peaks exists in a shared dream between the murdered Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee), the FBI investigator Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan), the director of the show and FBI David Lynch [as Gordon Cole], and the audience (you and I). Cooper represents the ultimate good, a young agent who earnestly strives to rid the world of evil and live comfortably in the blissful backwoods of small-town USA. Laura’s death is at the hands of an entity called Bob (Frank Silva), “the evil men do,” according to Agent Albert Rosenfield (Miguel Ferrer). But Bob inhabited a vehicle, Laura’s father Leland Palmer (Ray Wise), who sexually abused her through adolescence, then murdered her in her coming of age. Cooper invested himself so deeply solving her murder, he became a permanent resident inside the Black Lodge, a dimension of metaphors, doppelgangers, and backwards action played forward. His evil doppelganger Mr. C was inhabited by Bob and together, they escaped the Lodge. Laura tells Cooper she will see him again in 25 years. Meanwhile… and that’s where we begin The Return.

The Return means so many things. Cooper is returning to the world from the Black Lodge. He is also on a journey to return to Twin Peaks, as are Lynch and the audience. It’s the return of the series to television, and in several ways it’s a return to the past, which may be the ultimate point of the series. Mr. C is a powerful underworld criminal, but his time is running out, he has to return to the Black Lodge to exchange places with the real Cooper. There’s a plan to prevent this from happening, and Cooper has to go out another portal, arriving in Las Vegas where he takes the place of his tulpa, Dougie Jones, who is married with a son. But his return renders him catatonic, making his interactions limited to mere infancy. He learns simple words all over again, mimicking other people’s gestures, and has to have his wife Janey-E (Naomi Watts) make most decisions for him. Yet it goes by relatively unnoticed since the original Dougie is a bit off himself. Cooper is followed by some protective force, shoten zenjin whenever he needs it. Whether it’s bending over to avoid a bullet, having the intuition to play winning slot machines, or getting help with his homework, Cooper is protected. Meanwhile, Mr. C is on the hunt for coordinates that will lead him to another mystery, but he's picked up by police and held in prison for incriminating articles. FBI agents Cole and Albert, accompanied by new blood Tammy Preston (Chrysta Bell), know there is something off about Mr. C. They begin investigating who exactly he is and where he comes from. But at the same time, in Buckhorn, South Dakota, they’re investigating another puzzling mystery: the appearance of Major Garland Briggs’ corpse, who died 25 years ago in a fire when Cooper disappeared. The age of Briggs' body is from that time.

That’s the national news. Locally, in Twin Peaks, the 25 year-old case of Laura Palmer is opening up again after the Log Lady (Catherine Coulson) prophesizes to Deputy Hawk (Michael Horse) that something’s missing regarding Agent Cooper, and the way he’ll find it has to do with his Native American heritage. Twin Peaks is exactly where any lumber town nestled in the woods might be a quarter of a century later: much of it the same, but with a new generation walking over the past. A new drug has come into town called Sparkle, threatening the sanity of a society lost in isolation. The new generation is troubled, whether it’s Shelly’s daughter Becky (Amanda Seyfried) strapped for cash with a deadbeat abusive husband, or Ben Horne’s grandson Richard (Eamon Farren) selling drugs and looking for trouble wherever he goes, there’s an overall feeling that we are looking at the fallout of the American Dream, an empty promise that has reached the end of its cycle, coddled too long by overprotective elders. The darkness in those woods has spread out across the nation, and it’s coming back inwards. David Lynch says the original series is about wood, those ancient witness trees containing spirits and information of the past. Fire Walk With Me is about electricity, the transmission of spiritual entities across a vast network. And The Return is about the fusion of wood & electricity, as expressed when the Log Lady says, “my log is turning to gold,” an electrical conductor merging with an organic prophet – everything out there is coming back in here.

Mystery – Tremond & Chalfont

There’s always a sad but funny feeling in Twin Peaks, the duality in all things. Dougie/Cooper’s infancy is pathetic, but each helpless beat makes us laugh - yelling “helllloooo” when he wins a jackpot, or his innocent plead, “call for help.” He picks up words at the end of other peoples' sentences, which are taken as honest replies. And that’s the point, ignorance. In Buddhist philosophy, which Cooper champions, ignorance tops of a 12-linked chain of causation, the most fundamental darkness. It’s everywhere: a mother blind to her daughter’s abuse, a society built upon the blood of Natives, builders of an atomic bomb, a town asleep to Bob entering the world, a girl screaming on the floor of the Roadhouse, even Cooper’s naive belief that he can change the past as it relates to a TV audience reliving revival nostalgia. It’s my belief that ignorance is the answer to one of the show’s key questions: who is Judy? It’s likely Judy is the female counterpart of Bob, which you can hear more about in 'Found a Job' by Talking Heads. Many have suggested that if Bob is father Leland, Judy must be mother Sarah Palmer (Grace Zabriske). “The horse is the white of the eyes,” says the Woodsman (Robert Broski) – white eyes represent blindness, a white horse is what Sarah hallucinates before Bob strikes. Bob/Leland may be the aggressor, but Sarah lives in denial, allowing his crimes to occur. Judy lets Bob into the world, which we literally see when the Experiment spews out an egg containing Bob after the first atomic bomb test.

An even greater mystery may be: who is Laura Palmer? Like the Buddha, she is an expedient means, a source for society to abuse and then reflect upon. In the Lodge, she says “I am dead, yet I live.” Her spirit is very alive in the world - her death leads to the pursuit of Bob. Laura is planted after creation of the bomb, the result of all man’s lust for power. Her coming of age is during the Reagan-Bush years when America is at the height of profiting on its dominion over the world. Her prophecy of reawakening the story 25 years later is in perfect accord with the country’s trajectory, right at the onset of Trump’s presidency, when man’s darkest ambitions will come to fruition as they attempt to rescue a failing economy, not unlike the rise of Hitler. In the years before Hitler, German expressionists made films from the collective unconscious that prophesized the direction of their country, much as Lynch delves deep into this subconscious ocean through Transcendental Meditation, catching ideas that already exist and following them to conclusion. Such artists function more as vessels than creators, and are the most important to listen to if we are to gain a spiritual understanding of ourselves in this time and place. Sheryl Lee is credited as Laura Palmer for every single episode of Twin Peaks: The Return, despite the fact that we hardly ever see her. This show is still about her. Laura said we would see her again in 25 years, so in some ways, this is how she dreams it. When the opening credits roll, her eyes loom over Blue Pine Mountain, and everything that follows is related to the fallout of her murder, which has left a ghost in Twin Peaks. Three missing pages of her diary have been recovered, and there may still be a fourth – who carries this page? Carrie Paige?

The Show – “Shovel your way out of the shit!” –Dr. Lawrence Jacoby as Dr. Amp

Each story beat is a microcosm of a larger brushstroke and macrocosm of a thousand realms. There are loose ends, unanswered questions that you can make whole stories of – “is it about the bunny?” There are bunnies in front of Sarah Palmer’s TV, and this is a show about the viewer’s relationship with TV. You could write an essay on any given frame. But Peaks is not afraid to settle down, stop the plot, live and breathe. Sheriff Frank Truman (Robert Forster) is the idea of no country for old men, a hero who realizes the plot is less important than life, even if the world says otherwise. He refrains from telling his cancer-stricken brother about the Laura Palmer case so he can focus on his health. Frank will stop and have a chat with 90 year-old Doc Hayward (Warren Frost), ask how he’s doing, how the fish are biting, but ironically over Skype – old meets new. Carl Rodd (Harry Dean Stanton), also in his 90s, is less worried about receiving rent money and more concerned that his tenant not hurt himself making it. When a boy is tragically struck by a car, his compassion eases the mother’s heartbreak, and he can see the soul rising from the body. Ben Horne (Richard Beymer) is continuing his goodwill ambassadorship, though not without the temptation of an office affair, something he’d never pass up before. Dr. Jacoby (Russ Tamblyn), who may have corrupted his young patients more than help them, is painting golden shovels for people to "dig themselves out of the shit." The elderly are all racing to rectify the world they've left broken for the youth.

Pilot cinematographer Ron Garcia says Lynch emphasized grading Peaks "very yellow," a color associated with the pain and sorrow of garmonbozia (creamed corn). Peter Deming goes further to stress the point in Return. Dougie's office has a yellow hue; a yellow spirit emits from a dead boy; a yellow lamp separates Dougie and Janey. Lynch pokes at the American nuclear family ideal, depicting a loveless marriage that exists for the sake of existing. What it really says about their marriage when she’s taken to another stratosphere during sex, unaware she's with another man. Through Cooper, they experience material gain, an ominous joy overtaking them; having things creates ‘happiness.’ The American Dream is having that share of pie where one was always short changed. Even that sweet, heavenly cherry pie is tainted, one of several indulgences in Peaks, along with coffee and donuts. Sweet treats and fancy toys built America, keeping people happily ignorant. Philip Mike Gerard (Al Strobel) and Man From Another Place (Michael J. Anderson) say, “I want all my garmonbozia” – pain & sorrow are something to live with, not escape from, or there can be no enlightenment. Creamed corn is processed food, manufactured and distributed for convenience, as one might find in a convenience store. The room above the Convenience Store is where Lodge entities gather. Convenience is another illusion of the American Dream, that we’ve bombed our way through this world to have quicker access to resources. The consumer receives convenience without any idea of the blood that’s been sacrificed. Assassins Gary & Chantal Hutchens (Tim Roth & Jennifer Jason Leigh) have a diet of Cheetos and cheeseburgers. Sarah is greatly concerned about a new line of turkey jerky. Norma (Peggy Lipton) faces the threat of swapping organic ingredients for processed ones so she can expand her diner franchise more cost-efficiently. Dr. Jacoby is paranoid that the ingredients in mass-produced waffles, muffins, and frozen children’s treats are causing cancer. Processed foods exist to keep consumers lazy and ignorant of their food supply. Joseph Campbell observes that the rituals for honoring food and harvest are gone, creating a lack of awareness or appreciation for our nourishment.

Journey - “May the road rise up to meet your wheels.” –Sheriff Frank Truman

The westward journey has been used in various stories to search for some kind of Valhalla, a haven for nobles to live out their lives in peace. J.R.R. Tolkien established Valinor as a heavenly land west of Middle Earth where gods and Elves dwell. Columbus sailed west discovering the Americas as Europe sought to expand their empire. Lewis & Clark went further, opening the pathway for westward expansion, journeying through the Northwest Passage that would be Twin Peaks’ founding. Now, it’s Wally Brando (Michael Cera), born shortly after Cooper’s disappearance, who has grown from infancy these last 25 years, journeying back to rediscover the roots of Peaks’ people, much like the show itself. For him, the road is dharma. Brando sees beauty in the relationship between inside and out, like Lynch searching inward for ideas that go out to the world. 

Who are Richard and Linda? Fireman (Carl Struycken) tells us to remember them. The first Linda is described as a poor handicap war vet living in a trailer park, fighting with the government to get a wheelchair for her services. The other Linda might be Diane (Laura Dern), who worked for the government but faced abuse in her tenure. With this information, warning us about Linda may simply mean to be on the lookout for government abuses. There are certainly enough corrupt officials in Cooper’s way, from Las Vegas police, to Deputy Chad (John Pirruccello), to at least some version of Philip Jefferies (David Bowie). What about Richard? The first Richard is the bastard son of Mr. C raping Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn). Later, Cooper is left with a letter addressing him as Richard, who has now fused his good Dale and Mr. C personas. Perhaps it’s a warning about his own innate darkness, the thing that drives him to fix what’s unfixable, that got him stuck in the Lodge to begin with. He may now be trapped in a worse kind of eternal hell, or total darkness itself.

Lights Out

For all the questions Twin Peaks asks, it offers few answers. But I equate it to the Lotus Sutra, in which the answer lies is in the mystery of the question: what is the cause of this? Religious scholar Burton Watson says of the Sutra what Lynch would about film: “the highest truth can never be expressed in words, since words create distinctions that violate the unity of emptiness. The Sutra can only talk around it, leaving a hole in the middle where truth can reside.” This quote could easily reference the emphatic cut to black Peaks ends on. That one seeks answers is itself an evolution in the viewer. Like meditation, you may come out unaware of what exactly caused any change; you only know that experiencing it caused an awakening. It takes inspiration from Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, a film which acts as it’s subject, the mysterious monolith, which brings enlightenment to early cavemen, triggering evolution as mankind reaches for the stars. Like 2001, there are infinite interpretations through repeated viewings. In Peaks, we reach for the unknown, but it requires rebirth. Cooper awakens as Dougie into his most primal functions: eating cherry pie, drinking coffee, digesting, going about the world mindlessly, and sleeping. He follows spiritual guidance, communicates through his own form of hieroglyphs; he’s been reset, like the viewer has from their expectations. In this way, he’s pure and innocent, earning our compassion like the Buddha, ‘hero of the world.’ As we’ve been reborn, there will be many questions that lead us through the show, many mysteries we will never understand. It’d be unsatisfying to get explanations for questions like: who is Judy? Who are Richard and Linda? What function do Tremond’s/Chalfont’s serve? What does Laura whisper to Cooper? What happened to the last page of Laura’s diary? And what year is this?

After a long journey, we are back to where we started: the Palmer residence… or is it? The tension building up to this is incredible – we’re not sure what the intentions are. It culminates in one age-defining, blood curdling scream that chilled audiences to the core. I was personally rattled out of my conscious self when I first saw it, left pondering in an existential crisis for weeks. And yet, to this day, no one can precisely explain it. Fans puzzled over it, trading theories, posting videos and essays, not unlike previous Lynch works inspired. But there’s a price we’ve paid for going back in time. For one, TV will never be the same again. We’ve reached a euphoric climax, and now we’re challenged to move on from it. If we’ve learned anything from this show, it’s the importance of moving forward, ever-evolving, ever-creating, capturing the wonderful world of ideas swimming in that vast ocean. The original series opens on Pete Martell (Jack Nance) about to go fishing, until the body of a dead teenage girl wrapped in plastic stops his pursuit. We all stopped and got lost here for awhile, driven by obsession. But if there’s anything Lynch is trying to tell us, it’s: don’t stop fishing.

From Showtime. Directed by David Lynch. Written by Mark Frost and David Lynch. Produced by Johanna Ray, Sabrina S. Sutherland, and Christine Larson-Nitzsche. Edited by Dwayne Dunham. Cinematography by Peter Deming. Music by Angelo Badalamenti. Starring Kyle MacLachlan, Laura Dern, Naomi Watts, David Lynch, Miguel Ferrer, Robert Forster, Michael Horse, Harry Goaz, Kimmy Robertson, Dana Ashbrook, John Pirruccello, Madchen Amick, Al Strobel, Don Murray, Eamon Farren, Catherine Coulson, Robert Knepper, Jim Belushi, Tim Roth, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tom Sizemore, Richard Beymer, Russ Tamblyn, and Sheryl Lee. Rated TV-MA.