But unlike its jittering cameras, flashing lights, billowing smoke and ambient whooshing and whirring, its emotional foundations were rock solid. Twin Peaks: The Return was a dazzling work of filmmaking. Sure, Big Ed Hurley may have gotten his happy ending with Norma Jennings, but his forlorn face several episodes earlier as he contemplates the wreck of his life could well be the face of the whole season. Even America itself is still paying for the sins unleashed by the bomb, itself just the most symbolically resonant manifestation of the country’s power to destroy. And her mother Sarah … well, God only knows what’s been eating away at her (or through her) all those years. (The Thin White Duke would probably be delighted to discover his character Philip Jeffries spending eternity as a gigantic steampunk teapot.)īen Affleck’s ‘Air’ Rocks SXSW, Receives Long Standing OvationĮven as an older, living woman, Laura Palmer is forever linked to the house of horrors where she grew up. Davis, Jack Nance, Frank Silva and, of course, David Bowie. Coulson, Warren Frost, Michael Parks, Frances Bay, Don S. And the litany of cast members who died between then and now is long and heartbreaking: Miguel Ferrer, Catherine E. Both in the story and behind the scenes, the people of Twin Peaks have grown old the men in particular, from Bobby Briggs to Deputy Hawk to Big Ed Hurley, have grayed and weathered like stone. That description fits The Return like a magic ring. Most importantly, the film is about aging, and the vast gulfs of space and time we don’t realize we’ve traveled until circumstances force us to confront them. Its story of an elderly farmer who travels by tractor on a multi-state odyssey to reconnect with his dying brother shares with several Lynch-pins with the series, namely a love of the road, western America’s scenic beauty and Harry Dean Stanton. Yet in a roundabout way it too provides a key to understanding what made Twin Peaks Season Three so strong. To backtrack a bit (“What year is it?”), The Straight Story may be the anomaly in Lynch’s past quarter-century of work, in terms of narrative flow, tone and his usual interest in horror and sex. Jacoby’s Spray-Painted Shit Shovels Would Work Much Better Using the Netflix Release Model” feel … a little small? Like, even smaller than usual? After “This is the water and this is the well,” didn’t every article you came across with a title like “Lucy Brennan Proves David Lynch Has a Receptionist Problem” or “Dr.
#TWIN PEAKS IDRIVE SERIES#
And how cool to see a series so gloriously unsuited to the era TV takes, too.
How refreshing to watch a show wholly alien to the debates that consumed the final seasons of even the most truly wonderful dramas, from Mad Men to The Leftovers. (It’s like giving Stanley Kubrick a shoutout for resisting the temptation to create the Kubrick Cinematic Universe.) Still, even if this wasn’t on the filmmaker’s mind, as seems likely, it certainly was on ours. Good television, like good cinema, can be made in any number of ways Twin Peaks Season Three will become a textbook example of how a truly movie-like approach can pay off.Ī side note here: It feels goofy to praise David Lynch for not participating in the usual back-and-forth between showrunner and viewer about the need for answers, closure and a finale that “sticks the landing,” which the conclusions of The Sopranos and Lost have rendered a seemingly permanent part of the TV discourse. This isn’t just about treating the season as “one film broken into 18 parts,” as Lynch put it, though that’s a welcome rejoinder to the voguish notion that any showrunner who thinks of their series in these terms is a pretentious doofus. Crucial to the show’s success was Lynch and Frost’s insistence that it wasn’t a TV show at all, but a film. To explain why, it’s worth digging deeper than the obvious ways in which the season broke ground: its wild shifts in mood and style, its avant-garde editing and effects, the atom bomb of an hour that was Episode Eight. What we just witnessed was unmatched in the medium’s history. But just as the original Twin Peaks inspired visionary showrunners from David Chase to Damon Lindelof to create the New Golden Age, the show’s revived third season may have leapfrogged them all.
#TWIN PEAKS IDRIVE FULL#
We’ll submit a third candidate, one that the just-concluded third season of David Lynch and Mark Frost’s supernatural murder-mystery masterpiece has marked for permanent retirement from the critical vocabulary: “Like nothing else on television.” The TV landscape remains full of singular, spectacular shows, Peak TV fatigue be damned. “Damn good coffee” is one “Gotta light?” is another. When some phrases pass through the prism of Twin Peaks, you can never hear them the same way again.
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