A Return To Dreamland: Impressions Of Twin Peaks: The Return (1-4)

"My dream is a code, waiting to be broken. Crack the code, solve the crime."

-Special FBI Agent Dale Cooper

Fewer words were more inviting of the authors than this piece of dialogue from David Lynch & Mark Frost's almost legendary crack in the fabric of broadcast network time and space back in 1990. It's suggestion that none of what we see will be as it seems, and that normalcy is but a petty illusion we grant ourselves is at the dark, somber heart of Twin Peaks. A television event so singular in execution, generations of longform storytellers have been sampling Promethean fire from it ever since. The quirky, occasionally disturbing revelations beneath the veneer of a quiet northwestern American community in the wake of the brutal murder of the town's misunderstood high school sweetheart, became the kind of lore that inspired ceaseless discussion and debate. Also inspired many a Twin Peaks party as far down as my own small desert community just south of Palm Springs, California. Coffee and Pie, as simple price of admission to becoming part of what became one of the briefest, yet intense pop culture phenomenons I have ever had the good fortune to be a part of.

And to think, that this largely came from the mind behind one of the most jarring cinematic experiences of my youth, Blue Velvet(1986).

The demise of Twin Peaks, was as aggressively swift as the show's overnight success. The kind of network meddling that once made many a filmmaker steer clear, and more discerning viewers avoid broadcast television for years. Being forced to reveal that ever present, driving core question of, "Who killed Laura Palmer?" became one of the great crippling decisions that render creative teams rudderless, and as such the show was never quite the same again. That is, until a harrowing season finale signaling the return of Lynch to help rescue the show after a several months absence. History, naturally borne that more than a little late as time slots went from barely manageable to outright impossible, thereby quashing much hope of the show being saved via life support. Thankfully, the season finale, which became the show's original death march, went into history as one of the most indelibly bizarre, nightmarish, and utterly frustrating endings ever made. I vividly remember gasping in utter astonishment as the credits for Frost & Lynch came up on the screen as our central hero suddenly reveals himself to be overtaken by the evil forces behind some of the stranger goings on up in those mountains. Special Agent Dale Cooper, is trapped in the Black Lodge, while his evil doppelganger walks the world we live in..triumphant.

The finale left me angry, befuddled, even depressed. The show had so clearly drawn the moral cartography with such clarity with this character, and here we were, ending with goodness. possibly in a fate worse than death. In many ways a good analogy for the show itself. An almost magical confluence of elements that could easily be manipulated into a cage of its own destruction.

Thankfully, in the decades plus since the demise of the series, and the subsequent and inexplicable booing at Cannes for Lynch's film prequel, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, it seemed that despite all signs to Peaks being among the many casualties of myths that burnt out far too soon, here we are where creators, fans, and artists prevailed, granting David Lynch the utmost freedom to come back to a creation, and characters he so clearly still loves. The Showtime release of Twin Peaks: The Return, is not only another return to the success pool that so many filmmaking legends have. Rather, it is the kind of singular form of artistic revenge that only lands once or twice in our laps in a single lifetime. Much like a certain George Miller, what I've seen so far is reminiscent of his own vision unleashed. It is a wildly strange, unflinchingly Lynchian,  caustically funny, and occasionally terrifying opus of ideas that must have been percolating since 1991. Gone is the often screwball nature of the original series, but also not as tonally grim as the 1992 feature. What we have here, is the natural extension of all of Lynch's art spanning from as far back as his experimental films, not to mention ERASERHEAD(1974). 

 Opening within an enigmatic space of pure monochrome, a slightly aged Dale Cooper has now been within realms beyond the feared Black Lodge, and has been informed by The Giant, that the time to leave is nigh. Speech remains in eerie reverse, but the color has been completely bled out, perhaps implying that the show we had previously watched over the years had indeed entered the world of classic vintage television. We are also introduced to various characters from New York City to even Buckhorn, South Dakota, where matters have undertaken less the episodic, and often goofy feel of the original, and taken an almost novel-like structure. A school principal dreams of murdering a co-worker, only to awaken and be arrested for a similar crime. A woman with faulty memory, helps the police discover a murder victim with the wrong head on its shoulders. A young man, is tasked with watching a glass box in a city skyscraper that may or may not be a transportation device for alternate dimensions. Meanwhile, a man in black leather who bears a bizarre resemblance to Cooper is on a mission to obtain information, and kill a few along the way as his help might very well be in the process of betraying him. As new revelations that seemingly come from other Lynch worlds expand themselves into the larger story, it rapidly becomes clear that the tale of Peaks has bled out across the country.

All of this, as Sheriff Tommy "Hawk" Hill(Michael Horse) is given a call by Margaret (The Log Lady, played by the late, wonderful Catherine Coulson) that some new puzzle pieces have suddenly come to light. Little by little, it is indeed happening again. And whether or not anyone is ready, it seems like The Return, is not only a sober, more adult Peaks, but it's also something of a liberation from the confines of network broadcast. An existence that ultimately sunk the original show. Frost, makes good use of the lore he has helped hone over the years, helping Lynch further ground his series in a way that we had only been hinted at with Fire Walk With Me. The range is certainly lighter than that excursion into the bleak, but it is no less unsettling when Lynch goes full horror show. And not unlike 2001's Mulholland Drive, the tonal shifts somehow find even keel weaving an endlessly fascinating new life for a show that at one time captured the minds of many in its vision of a Rockwell dream gone malignant. Oh, for sure, innocence remains strong within Peaks, but it has begun to waver with the loss of Cooper, and Major Garland Briggs. Andy and Lucy(Harry Goaz & Kimmy Robertson), are good and well as they could ever be as fixtures in the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Office. And while we do not have Harry Truman who's apparently ill, we have his brother in Frank (Robert Forster!) taking care of the law enforcement family alongside Hawk. 

And as hours three and four have unveiled themselves, it rings louder than ever that Lynch has a fire within that even I though had long been diminished. It's the kind of creative fury that only the right producers and supportive entities could have allowed. In hindsight, this so easily could have flown completely off the rails, and yet somehow, even the most bizarre events of these two episodes seem perfectly in keeping with the world presented. No matter how insane things get, it's always in support of Cooper's journey toward not only the home of his beloved deep black joe, and pie, but himself. Playing at this point, three roles is easily the best work Kyle MacLachlan has ever executed on film. Years of describing him as something of Lynch's visual analog couldn't be more fitting as he traverses between worlds and personalities with the precision and trust only collaborating friends could ever conjure. And this is but one blip among a wealth of performances that further offer a depth that the show had only hinted at in the past. Sure, there are a few that hit those strange notes (Chrysta Bell, instantly comes to mind), but considering the universe of Peaks as something that exists in a plane not quite ours, it never milks the camp factor beyond tolerance levels.

But the real surprising juice comes in the form of elder Gordon Cole(Lynch himself), and fellow agent, Albert Rosenfeld(The late, great Miguel Ferrer) who upon receiving cryptic information about the long lost Cooper, venture out to meet a captured man, only to wonder who exactly they have behind bars. It's a truly mesmerizing final few minutes in this series of episodes that both sells the utter eerie nature of old events returning to haunt old friends, as well as their loyalty to their fellow agents. The final scene hued in a deep shade of blue, brings to the forefront revelations that harken to both the original series as well as FWWM, hinting at something both men had been troubled by for years. No, none of this feels normal at all. But maybe there is someone we know who can help. It's a bang-up way to leave us hanging. Needless to say, I am probably just as hooked now as I was back in 1990. Perhaps even moreso. Like Albert and Gordon, a part of me had lied dormant. Ever resigned to the idea that these forces would forever be ignored, leaving threads eternally neglected. And despite knowing of this project for over a year now, I never expected it to be rekindled with such energy and sincerity. It's the kind of return we rarely to never receive. At last, we have Twin Peaks as a complete story. Whether or not this is truly Lynch's great goodbye to narrative filmmaking, I'll be there with many others, savoring every delicious moment.  

14 hours remain..

 

     

 

 

Ghost In The Shell (2017) Film Thoughts

And as the lights go up, and the crowds exit the theater, my chlorine vision saturated eyes, heavy they hang, underlying a distended sense of relief. Not that Rupert Sanders' fool's errand had indeed exceeded all expectations. But rather that years of speculation and debate could at last be put to rest knowing that it was all valid noise. His adaptation of Shiroh's influential creation bears little resemblance to the source, unless one believes that random, occasionally slavish visual callbacks implies synchronicity. The end product being something far less interested in the world it is painting, and far more victim of its own marketing potential. Another film pitted against itself so early in the game, that the afterthought of merely choosing a straight procedural story must be echoing between many lips at this very moment. But as it is, Ghost In The Shell, succumbs dead on arrival as a story of stolen pasts and identities at odds with a reality that all but Hollywood has seemingly surpassed. 

In this rendition of the universe, Mira, aka The Major (Scarlett Johansson), is seen awakening for the first time after being told she was just rescued from near drowning after a terrorist attack. Dr. Ouélet (an oddly cast Juliette Binoche), informs her and in turn, the audience that Mira is indeed granted a new cyborg body in what would become a bold new standard for HANKA Robotics' and the world's increasingly cyberized population. Behind closed doors, Dr. Ouélete, is informed by the company's chief, Cutter(Peter Ferdinando), that Mira is to be stationed as a government operative for the anti-terrorist strike force, Section Nine as an imposed demonstration of Mira's intended function: as a weapon. Flash forward to one year later, and suppressed memories come calling as The Major and her cadre of cybercops run up against renegade cyborg, Kuze(Michael Pitt), who has begun to infiltrate minds of machine and human alike in a plot to expose HANKA, and break this new world down to its foundations.

You read correctly, 2017's Ghost In The Shell, cops that age old crutch, the origin story, and undermines the entire mythology in the process. One of the great delights of Masamune Shirow's original work, and most of the subsequent media that followed tossed the reader/viewer forehead deep into an increasingly blurred world of cyborgs, political intrigue, and morphing philosophical concepts. We were suddenly privy to the obsessive minds behind each incarnation. With each new exchange rendering us occadionally scrambling to keep up. Much like the way I used to have to re-read to better digest the early works of William Gibson, there is a tactile nature to the world of Ghost that is dense, and simply thrilling because of said density. It's a universe that rarely to never did apologizes for what it was, nor was terribly interested in longform explanations about who our characters. They simply were. 

 

With Sanders'  film, this simply won't do. And as such, the entire piece seems hell bent on undermining any potential question regarding who Mira is, and what she represents to those who value her. By laying out virtually everything in expository dialogue early on, we are granted little to no mystery for the characters,  let alone us to discover. A mother/daughter subplot that again undermines a huge amount of what makes the franchise so inviting. A choice that in a way kneecaps a lot of what makes The Major, such a unique being who is an expert at what she does, but rarely reveals a vulnerable side to anyone but squadmate Batou (an adequate, yet equally undermined Pilou Asbaek) It almost seems to be written under the sexist assumption that a woman cannot be this vulnerable to a male lead without it dovetailing into love interest territory. To compound problems further, Mira is rarely given much evidence to even prove her worth as a team leader, and is more spoken about by others. Her actions are often undone by others, and occasionally rendered ineffectual. It's a superhero film where the superhero simply doesn't do very much that emphasizes the super. Johansson, does what she can with the role, but the page and direction simply have no weight to encourage more than a furrowed brow, or a dropped weapon. This Major, is simply useless.

Worse yet, are the choices that follow, especially pertaining to Cutter, and his intentions for Mira behind the scenes. The greater conspiracy that has created her never culminates toward anything beyond a raised eyebrow, and one has to ask why would a major robotics corporation pawn off one of their most advanced creations to a government unit that is deeply entrenched in such complex cyber terrorism, and intelligence gathering. The plots would have no problem intersecting over time. At least with RoboCop's Murphy, his ignorance in an increasingly blue collar style police force supports this notion of information walls that border on some form of full proof protection. But with Section Nine being who they are (here, a largely faceless group of ragtag police, granted little to no real screen time) it just feels like granting Mira a timed gimme. The ultimate revelations tend to fall into our protagonists' hands with each dive, not to mention a scene near act three that seems to have been completely edited out. (Pay close attention, or one may miss it.) The film simply opts for an on-wheels experience, punctuated by the occasional uncanny image. 

Which brings us to the presentation, which ultimately comes up short. For all that Sanders attempts to inject into the presentation, there is a strange, almost limited scope that seems to run out within the first half hour. Almost as if the film seems ready to give up on presenting much new to the world save for an almost early 1990s Mind's Eye era techno poster sheen. A lot of style, but little in the way of optical protein that Ghost is often known for. After a while, the look of the city, the people, and the animated ad campaigns looming over the proceedings become less than impressive. There are plenty of visual shout-outs to Oshii's two films (especially INNOCENCE) throughout, but even so, it becomes distracting when so very little is actually occurring on screen. It's definitely a handsome production, but certainly one that leaves a limited impression. 

Then there's the issue of casting none other than Takeshi Kitano in the role of Section Nine head, Aramaki, who comes off as expected; as a J-cinema legend collecting a paycheck. 

So in all, the western Ghost In The Shell finds itself through the looking Glass of controversy and speculation, and now on the other side perhaps worse for the wear. A project that so easily could have sidestepped certain issues of racial identity and economic choices, opts to lean head on into them, only rendering the entire project as something of a troubled message come the denouement. Without spoiling the film, the story does go full bore with the origin story in such a way that implies that this is just how things are, and that it's perfectly fine. Forget the past, understand its role, and think nothing of the implications. It's a quietly toxic choice that simply didn't have to be. There is great potential within the universe of Ghost to at least imply a wholly new regional continuity. A fresh take on an increasingly dense, politically charged creative playground of digital intrigue. The choices we get here pretty much quashes much hope of progress. Not that the mother-daughter element didn't help, but talk about a rosary of needless suffering on a slab of shallow posturing. No reverent, loving bouquet. More a burger, medium Coke, along with a basket of cold, unsalted fries.

Once again, the road to adapting Japanese media into the global mainstream finds itself at odds with the tentacles of moneyed interests, cultural hegemony, and ultimately an indifferent attitude to story. If this is the best a major studio can do with something like this, then it's no wonder Japan stays away. About the only positive here is that for a more palatable take on such occasionally challenging material,  Stand Alone Complex exists. At long last the debates can proceed with actual ammunition. 

 

Thank goodness.  

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When People Complain About Pop Star Quotes Sans Context..

You bet I'm disturbed.

 

I'm disturbed by the fact that nearly every single White house appointee, is as follows..

 

An Attorney General candidate, whom has long been considered far too racist, and unacceptable even by previous Republican standards, and has had much trouble at the hands of both Dr. King and his wife and with good reason.

 

A Secretary of Education nominee that lacks even the minimum required education to even consider presiding over the lives of the young, let alone a religious bias that undermines separation of church and state. Worse yet. Has no concept of how to deal with diversity of culture, as well as neuro diversity.

 

A Secretary of housing and urban development nominee with no prior experience in this field, was once a surgeon, but now lacks the cognitive ability to handle complex living ideas, let alone his beliefs in the pyramids and the use of grain. The videos are proof enough of incompetence to even garner much more argument.

 

Disturbed, that a powerful oil magnate would be given the keys to high office when it has grown ever more crucial and acceptable to harvest new, and cleaner forms of energy, with more in the wings. This is ultimately worse than the Bush family and their ties to foreign oil.

 

I'm disturbed that a press secretary would not only lie about the role of himself and his administration, but that he would be so bad at it. It's bad enough that it's clear that he looks forced into every word leaking out of his mouth, with bloodshot eyes filled with mortification, but that he doesn't have the stones to even think that there is such a thing as “alternative facts”. (Hint: there isn't)

 

I'm ultimately disturbed by the senior counselor appointment of a man long known as a political “news” raconteur, with dreams of being a Leninist, hoping with baited breath to “destroy the state”, and aligns himself, not only against other races, but women, and just about everyone but a racist, nationalist base. His connections to a drunken, broken minded misanthrope kraken like Alex Jones only furthers the mud from which he has arisen from.

 

I'm disturbed by one’s assertion that the people being placed into high office are less dangerous than imaginary leftists who wouldn't even think of doing the things Drumpf’s cabinet are intent on doing, which largely comes from the Putin playbook of “destabilize and deligitimize “ everything from the truth to the offices of American government. They are attempting a bloodless coup, and largely because of one man's massive, yet fragile ego against a world that has left him, and possibly others behind.

 

I'm far more disturbed by these revelations than any muddle of words one Brooklyn pop legend can possibly spout. They are a greater offense to the White House, because they possess no respect for the system in which they inherit. It's anti-Federalism fueled by deep resentment, and powered by dirty pool. Their racism, sexism, anti-intellectualism, and means to harm and stifle research and information thrives because it fears what so many of us already know.

 

I'm disturbed..

 

Because the enemy is already inside the house. Infection has taken hold, and that body you see before you may look familiar, but there is nothing beneath that skin that will ever be the party you once new. The Republican party you and I knew growing up, is dead. Within the visage of its shambling corpse, is an organized international puppet show disguised as white rage revenge against a President who was doing all he could to level a playing field in dire need of it. Certain people couldn't fathom this, belted out in desperation, and decided to burn the board. Hell, fyi: A lot of the so-called “leftists” you speak of, voted for your man because it would hasten this longed-for destruction. That's right. They saw this coming, and opted for the big burn. They were right next to you, complicit in all of this.

 

How much is one's soul worth to undo generations of progress, and belief in impartial systems in the name of some imagined past where everyone was happy? This “again” speaks of something wholly imaginary, and at best, only for one persuasion of skin color. Nostalgia, is merely that; a balm for reality.

 

Being afraid of violent factions have been rendered moot since this administration has openly decided to declare war on reason. The moment that happens, all bets are off. Shots have already been fired. America, is already under siege. The shockwave will be felt around every corner of the planet. And only a few of us will remain to rebuild what had been destroyed. Make no mistake, it will affect all of us. Women, children, the elderly, immigrants from the world over, seeking the beacon of light we do our damndest to promise.

 

And this includes the many who voted for him. They too will feel a sharp sting of betrayal in time. The “left” will likely not have to lift a finger.

 

I'm disturbed that a small minority found itself terrified of a more pluralized world, and opted to shun the possibilities inherent. And if they are more bothered by what one artist said in jest, as opposed to all of this, would prefer that we remain docile and complicit as the very fabric of who we are and what we can be are torn asunder in the name of something that is in no way sustainable, nor respectful of nature itself. That blocks, cuts, kills, offers no long term solutions or goals outside of a warped retread of pasts better abandoned while the world moves forward, leaving us a shell of what we once upheld to be self-evident.

 

This is disturbing to me.

 


 

YeshCast 004: Bubble Memories of Laundry Past

Greetings, all.

And welcome to the first in what I hope will become something of a ritual here at YeshPro HQ. Some pancakes and syrup are in order, and so are a great many words regarding the recall power of flavor, exhibition ideas, and PURE-CAT-POWER! Join Eileen and I as we attempt to grant fellow listeners into our special brand of banter, with some very telling diegetic sound. The headquarters is continuously alive, especially in the morning, and it only felt right to share this on this, a new way to experience an intimate podcast!

 

First in our Backyard Breakfast series!

First in our Backyard Breakfast series!

YeshCast 003: Beneath The Roman Sky

What better way to properly christen these hallowed young walls of digital space, than with a companion podcast? Having initially launched somewhere on Tumblr, YeshCast is something of an all-purpose life, art, travel and reflection audio diary often featuring us YeshPro chickens. 

 

This time, co-conspirator Eileen and I hit up the Santa Monica pier for a brief bite followed by a dreamy visit to the harder to reach Getty Villa up in Mali-BOO. Awash in all things ancient and civilized, we consider the parallels between then and now, and also find some laughter and hopefully wisdom along the way.

 

A brief, yet enticing hint of things to come! 

The Stomping Grounds Expand..

 

Well. Better late than never, yes?

Don't mind the mess. The movers haven't completely finished bringing every article over, and what's in these boxes do no good all over the floor, so let's just lie on the floor for a bit and get acquainted.

Hello one and all, and welcome to what will hopefully be a busy new home for all things no budget and mischievous. I'm Mike, and I've spent several years writing and creating under several banners over the years. Whether it be via sites like Anime Diet, or The Wandering Kaijyu, the time spent toggling between these sites, not to mention the endless carnival that is social media, it always felt inevitable that all endeavors would find themselves in some consolidated form or another. As for the time I have been between working across town or school, this new home also helps eliminate so much unnecessary fumbling about. This new project may also find within it room for other voices looking for a means to play between many corners of everything from cinema, to anime, to local art, food, and various musings outside of what many may call consistent. Wandercreature, is where the mind has a chance to play it loose, seek out wisdom instead of geek cred, rummage for the unexpected, and embrace the internet as a spiritual butterfly net. After several years of this, the very idea that we had to get way past Variable Zero, and offer up a place where all these little pieces of incremental creativity had to function beneath a solid umbrella.

In time, content will offer more than blogs. We're also looking into reviews beyond merely film, podcasts, homebrewed music and video, the two-person publishing project that's been happening since 2013, YeshPro, and a great deal more. So go ahead and bookmark away. I'm always open for suggestions, questions, and stories.  (Oh, I love those!) Take up a pillow, and relax a bit. All I ask of you is to be civil, offer up your best ideas, and breathe in the moment.

Your best ideas might be just around the corner.