
5 miles south of the Canadian border and 12 miles west of the state line, Twin Peaks is an insular logging community in Washington that seems innocent, almost quaint on the surface. But then the body of a young girl washes up on a riverbank, covered in plastic.
Welcome to our Summer TV Club coverage of Twin Peaks, a show which probably needs no introduction but indulge me. In 1990, when Twin Peaks’ movie-length pilot aired, the highest rated show was Cheers. Matlock and L.A. Law were still attracting lots of viewers and we were just a few months away from the debut of Cop Rock. At the same time, whether by coincidence or fate, Twin Peaks and The Simpsons debuted. While I wonder what a world in which Cop Rock captured the imaginations of the public would be like, instead it was Twin Peaks that would go on to become one of the most influential shows on TV. Everything from Lost to Northern Exposure can claim a kindred spirit with David Lynch and Mark Frost’s weird, cerebral program. Which makes it all the more embarassing that, until this week, I had never seen it. Given how confusing this show can be, it might be better to have a guide who knows where the story is going. I’ll be doing my best, though, to make sense of it all. Feel free to chime in the comments if I have it all wrong though (just try to clearly mark spoilers as such).
So, Twin Peaks? We start with an opening credit sequence that looks and sounds not unlike a town’s promotional video (with plenty of footage of lumber being cut), but with a slightly sinister undertone. As a first-time viewer, “Pilot” introducted us to the large cast of characters who will be in play while wallowing in the bizarre atmosphere of its title environment. The tone shifts wildly, points are raised and dropped, the line between reality and dreams is blurred, and genres are combined. Its one thing to have this kind of thing in Blue Velvet, playing in a few hundred theaters to the art-house crowd; its quite another to have it on broadcast TV.
The rather deliberate pacing of “Pilot” stands in stark contrast to most modern TV shows, which try to hook the viewer as quickly as possible. Instead, after the police discover the body of Laura Palmer, things take on a dream-like quality as we move through the town of Twin Peaks and meet its residents. There’s Laura’s grieved parents – in an episode that veers wildly between comedy and tragedy, the scene where Sarah and Leland are informed of their daughter’s murder is devastating – her assorted friends and neighbors, and the surrounding community, all of whom seem to come to a stop. But there’s also indications that Laura wasn’t the innocent prom queen she appeared, and that there some sinister corrupting forces at the heart of this town.
Into this environment comes Special Agent Dale Cooper (played by Kyle Maclachlan, best known for Showgirls and Desperate Housewives) (Oh yeah, and Blue Velvet), all pie-eyed enthusiasm and all-American wholesomeness (at least, at first glance). He’s psyched for the Douglas firs and relaying his thoughts on a tape recorder for the sake of “Diane,” a device that works because of how much insight we get into Cooper’s mindset. Cooper is a Lynch hero through and through, a mix of Jeff Beaumont and Betty Elms (sure, the latter is still a decade away) and I’m very excited to see how he interacts with the good people of Twin Peaks. Already, I’m really digging his interplay with the town’s sheriff, Harry S. Truman.
But for me, two scenes stand-out the most after a first viewing. There’s Cooper and Truman’s examination of the body, with its unsettling, flashing flourescent light (apparently an accident that Lynch wisely decided to keep). The light is a small moment but it serves as an incredibly effective reminder that something here is not right. Then there’s the ending, which trades on “Leader of the Pack” doomed-teenager imagery as it finds James and Donna, confessing their love in a dark, barren forest. And Truman and Cooper’s surveillence. And Donna’s father’s odd reaction. And that creepy coda.
“Pilot” keeps its cards close to its chest; its not trying to beat you over the head with a battery of mysteries. Instead Twin Peaks creates a mood, a mood that anyone who’s driven around a small town at night can empathize with. The mood that, underneath the gentle facade and behind the woods, there’s something very wrong.
Jonah’s Score: 90
TUIW Grade: A
David Lynch Tweet of the Week: “I have applied the hands to the holes.”
Sorry about the formatting; I’m not sure what the problem is but I’m working on fixing it