Monsters of Television

Is saying “The plot, it thickens” redundant with this show? YES, YES IT IS.

Basically, Twin Peaks is doing everything it can to juggle as many different stories as possible. For the very most part, it succeeds wonderfully. This particular episode might be considered filler, but anyone who knows this show knows better than to think that. “Coma” doesn’t do much for resolution of any established plot threads, but it does set up for some major developments in the (hopefully near) future.

Donna gets started with Laura’s Meals-on-Wheels route, and makes a possible connection with one of Laura’s “friends.” A one-sided phone call is all we get, but we know a meeting has been arranged with a Mr. Smith. Donna also meets Mr. Smith’s neighbor, a delightfully cooky old lady and her dead-eyed grandson. Nice to see that there’s no generation gap for the crazy in Twin Peaks. Also: creepy kids – still creepy.

Audrey is still missing – way to go, Family Horne, not noticing she was gone until two days after the fact – and in a heap load of trouble. Girl’s got cajones, charming and demanding her way into a room with her old buddy, the perfume counter manager, so that she can forcibly extract information from him. Too bad he turns her over to Blackie who, as we’ve seen, is quite literally cracked out and, therefore, a special brand of crazy. Audrey’s tearful, terrified phone call to Agent Cooper is cut short before she can tell him where she is, mostly because she’s too busy being vague and schoolgirlish with him. Hot damn, Audrey, how can you be so awesome and yet so silly?

Cooper is quite understandably concerned and will not doubt figure out Audrey’s location using his mad detective skills and the fact that she mentioned having seen him in his tux.

While we’re talking about Coop, I want to take a moment to appreciate the continuity of his shooting injuries. Ginger movement, winces, soft grunts of pain – well played, sir. Well played. (This moment of joy brought to you by Continuity Isn’t Hard™.)

Oh, Ben Horne, with your crazy socks and the random bag of marshmallows in your desk just in case you felt like toasting some. Why do you have to be so damn evil?

This episode seems to exist solely for putting pairs of people together in such ways as to delight me. First we get Albert and Cooper at breakfast, with Cooper regaling Albert with tales of Tibet. Then he shares what his plans are for the Laura Palmer case – “Has anyone seen Bob on Earth in these past few weeks?” – and suddenly I get the feeling that Albert might be my new favorite. YES, ALBERT. Right after Andy. And what a strange pairing that is, eh? (Also: Agent Earle? COLOR ME INTRIGUED.)

Then we have Daddy Briggs and Log Lady. It’s adorable, this interaction, in all its nonsensical suspension of disbelief ways. And then, Daddy Briggs goes and does something that made me grin like a little girl.

As Log Lady’s log knew, Daddy Briggs had a message to deliver. And that message was for Cooper. Daddy Briggs repeats, as he often has, that he cannot tell Cooper the nature of his work (Daddy Briggs’s work, that is) because it is classified. He can, however, reveal that part of it entails deep space monitors and “various communications” from space. SO BASCIALLY, Daddy Briggs just admitted to being General Hammond, the end. (Deep space monitors = deep space telemetry. Classified = ridiculously top secret. Daddy Briggs is taking care of the Stargate. I KNEW IT.) The message he has for Cooper was picked up from those deep space monitors, a message among the gibberish: “THE OWLS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM” and “COOPER”.

Y’all, things just got real.

One last thing from this episode and – fair warning – there will be lots of capslock for this one. You ready? Here we go.

OH GOD. ANDY WITH HIS SCOTCH TAPE CURLICUE AND HIS SPERM BANK DONATION BECAUSE OF CIVIC DUTY AND HIS LOVE FOR WHALES AND THINKING THAT “STERILE” MEANT “NO MORE BATHS!” WHEN IT REALLY MEANT “NO BABIES” AND GOODNESS GRACIOUS LUCY. Andy is just too adorable, you guys. Too. Adorable.

Notes:

• BARBERSHOP QUARTET. There is a haggard looking barbershop quartet in the background during Cooper and Albert’s breakfast and it is officially the BEST. THING. EVER.
• I hope something suitably horrific happens to Hank.
• Dear ladies: Shelly Johnson is a prime example of why you should never look for happiness (etc.) in someone else (i.e. boys).
• In the scene with Leo, Shelly, and the Doc, there is a mirror between the latter two that allows Leo to be seen even when the camera is on them. All I could think the entire time was: “Huh. Methinks one Mr. Martin Wood took notes during this.”