Twin Peaks, what are you trying to do? No, really – what is your endgame here? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve lost the plot.
I’m sure all of this meandering and plot-thickening is leading somewhere, but I’d like us to get there a bit quicker, if you don’t mind.
Judge Sternwood: “Mr. Cooper, how do you find our little corner of this world?”
Agent Cooper: “Heaven, sir.”
Judge Sternwood: “Well, this week heaven includes arson, multiple homicides, and an attempt on the life of a federal agent.”
Agent Cooper: “Heaven is a large and interesting place, sir.”
Heaven on Earth. Hell is other people. Twin Peaks is doing a damn good job of being an example of both those adages.
One of the dangers when embarking on a First Watch of a show (or film) that has been out for quite some time is that no one else thinks of it as something that can be spoiled.
I clicked on a link this past week that led to a story that sounded interesting. I was not expecting to see Twin Peaks pop up in the opening paragraph, nor to have one of its plot points discussed in detail. Though I attempted to skip past any mentions of the show, the damage was already done. In truth, the very title of the piece, combined with seeing the italicized name of the show anywhere in the article, was enough to be a spoiler.
Alas, I shall push it from my mind and take comfort in the fact that at least I don’t know the when or how or why.
Meanwhile, things are still afooting at pace in our beloved little town full of crazies.
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.
It’s baaaaaack!
Personal life, holidays, and forgetfulness have delayed the return, but here we find ourselves again, dear friends, discussing the journey that is Twin Peaks. I’m sure the three of you that actually read this were sorely troubled by the absence but never fear – we’re back on track.
Apparently my time away was needed, because I’m refreshed enough that the endless stream of investigation doesn’t bother me the way it had started to by the end of season one. Mind you, season one is much, much shorter than season two, so there’s no telling how long this enjoyment will last. But for now: YAY!
The Slow Boil. It’s a difficult thing to do. Go too slowly, you risk boring your audience. Mess up the timing, and plot threads are left dangling. Pull in too many threads to flesh out a stretched narrative, and the complexity of the story can lose people. The Slow Boil. It can be at turns annoying and exciting. The slower pace means you get time to really savor the build up, the gentle construction of a world and a story. But that pace can also make the story drag and leave you thinking, “C’mon, already!”
So far, the boil of Twin Peaks has had its share of both sides, though the excitement has outweighed the annoyance. The opener of season two – all 94 minutes of it – is on the excitement side.
The thing about shows built around singular mysteries is: how do you keep them going? How do you keep a show centered on one question – “Who killed Laura Palmer?” – viable for longer than a season? Such a premise can only be built upon for so long before it becomes stretched too thin for even the most forgiving of suspended disbeliefs. And you can only hold back answers for so long before the audience starts getting antsy.
Well guess what, show. I’m there.
The question of who killed Laura Palmer has been eclipsed by the question of why. Close behind is the question of how everyone figures out the why, as our three sets of detectives – Cooper, Harry, and the Twin Peaks sheriff’s department; Audrey; James, Donna, and Maddie – each pursue their own leads to discover Laura’s murderer.
Cooper and Harry have uncovered enough evidence to place Leo and Jacques at the murder scene, but not enough evidence for why they would have committed the murder. Audrey’s quest to figure out the connection between Laura’s job at Horne’s department store and her job at One Eyed Jacks leads Audrey down the same path – and into an interview where Audrey displays her talent for tying cherry stems with her mouth. James, Donna, and Maddie cook up an elaborate ruse to get Dr. Jacoby away from his office so that it can be searched for a missing tape recording.
You know, sometimes it’s hard to turn off your inner critic. I’ve discovered recently that I tend to have a million questions running through my mind when I watch a show, from where it was filmed to how much special effects might have cost to who the guy is playing the second extra from the left. That kind of inner monologue can be distracting and can even ruin the viewing experience.
The kind of thoughts you want to have while watching a show are more along the lines of: why did that character say that? What is the significance of that item? Whodunit? And, boy howdy, I’ve been having lots of those questions with Twin Peaks.
“Harry, in the heat of the investigative pursuit, the shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line.”
Oh, how the narrative of Twin Peaks weaves and winds. Characters becoming connected to other characters, plot threads finding one another and twisting into new and more complicated stories – we are getting the tale of Laura Palmer’s murder, but we’re taking the scenic route. And along the way, we’re picking up tales for everyone else in Twin Peaks, it seems.
Relationships, relationships, relationships.
Our lives are one big puzzle composed of various pieces that constitute the various relationships we have. All our relationships are interconnected in a social-structure version of Six Degrees of Separation and by interlocking them, a picture can be created of who we are and why. Such connections are the building blocks of all character-driven stories.
Relationships. Who has them, what kind they are, where they are going, where they have been, how they are related – more than a murder mystery, Twin Peaks is a show about relationships. Laura Palmer’s murder – and the solving thereof – is inextricably wrapped up in who these characters are, how they came to be that way, and what they mean to each other. The significance of character interactions has been so drilled into me by the first three episodes that when new characters were introduced and old characters finally given face time in this episode, I automatically suspected that they would become important.
