The Lingering Promise Of Carole & Tuesday

At last, completed Motonobu Hori & Shinichiro Watanabe's musical anime series, Carole & Tuesday, and truly enjoyed most of it. Particularly its world, characters, and overall lighthearted tone regarding the role of the artist, even in the colonized space of Cowboy Bebop. The show's greatest strengths being its appealing leads, and the often incredible soundtrack spinning a tale of a pair of starcrossed musicians who create a unique analog musical bond in a world where pop music tends to be enhanced via technological means. It isn’t hard to see where this affection for popular music through the ages sits within the heart of Watanabe, who’s classic 1998 series was nothing if not in itself a gargantuan solar system spanning poem regarding art’s influence upon our often ephemeral relationships with one another.

Where the show does stumble, is of course toward the final stretch with too many overbearing plot threads introduced far too late, and a finale that feels far too pat for the show's length. In truncating the end, the show never figures out how to properly address some awkwardly inserted timely elements, taking the teeth out of what could have been an emotionally powerful closing. Come episode 21, it had become alarmingly clear that every subplot that had been introduced in the wake of C & T’s overnight success, was about to get the compression treatment, and it wasn’t more evident than in the pacing of their musical rival, the talented and feisty Angela. A choice that only further hurts the more political themes the show was bravely hewing close to as the story pits artists versus the changing, and often manipulated sentiment of a public on the brink of an anti-immigrant platform on the coming election. An election that features a candidate closely related to a member of our duo.

Another reminder of the importance of knowing that your producers have your back to make good on these themes before, and during production. Because from the looks of how the show plays out, it seems like something happened resulting in a season shortened from the classic 26 episode order to 24. What we get, is a sorely missed opportunity for anime to spin a potent allegory for the current moment, and more a sweet-intentioned , and occasionally rousing ode to music set amidst a compelling sci-fi backdrop.

Still, I would have loved to have followed these characters through more adventures, making new friends and allies between planets alike. They are a charming, cheerworthy pair that the show almost forgets to explore further. In a way, C & T, for all their charms fall into the background as the meaty complications around them begin to pile up. Their spirit and music shine for sure, but we really deserved that beautiful seven minute miracle, and everything it purportedly changed.

But in order for that to happen, we probably needed those last two episodes.

Life Post Netflix

It’s almost like a long delayed breakup..

And yet, this was a choice that has probably been on the block since 2017. My only excuses being the piling on of originally produced content ( that reached almost crushing pressures come 2018 ), the will to cut the red cord has been a dear friend for some time. So when I was finally out from beneath the thumb of not only the streaming debut of Neon Genesis Evangelion, as well as The Irishman, and yes, even The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, coupled with the reality that with such a ubiquitous service in the hands of loved ones, there was a diminished passion on my part to continue. Especially in a Disney +, Amazon, Hulu, etc. landscape. (As for my latest leap back into the D pool, we can discuss soon, promise.)

To be completely honest, this feels right. Feels a solid ten pounds lighter. Especially true when my weekly Netflix diet largely consisted in background noise choices rather than actual sit down and watches. I’ve since joked that a large portion of the service’s content now sports a specific aesthetic, and almost lackadaisical attitude for works initially meant to function like your classic serialized material. It’s to the point that the riches often undercut a certain dramatic effectiveness. Much like the Marvel model, “just good enough” is baseline, rendering much of it disposable. It feels like qualitative purgatory.

And yet, Louis Leterrier’s long-awaited collaboration with the Hensons could not be a better sendoff.

Worth the wait in every respect, The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, is the streaming service’s equivalent to legacy sequels/prequels that stand alone as shining examples of merging the familiar with the urgent. And grandeur to boot. Throughout, I have been repeatedly kicking myself for putting it off for so long. It’s also that rare prequel where despite what we know is to become of these characters, it remains impossible to wander away from. Nothing short of a visual and thematic feast that loses none of the strange charm of Jim Henson’s hopelessly radical 1982 piece. (My memories of seeing for the first time that opening weekend remain vital ones to this day.)

So sure, there’s a part of me that will miss being able to finish Carole & Tuesday’s second half at home. But the possibilities that have opened up in its stead remain hopeful. There’s still a ton of material to explore with my remaining options, including oodles in my years-old queue. There’s just something liberating about knowing what lies ahead, without the additional baggage of what remains online, and what could just as easily be removed tomorrow.

And then there’s my ever lingering physical media watch list that never seems to end.

See? We should be fine.

That said, oh my goddess this rules.

The Final Hours Of Twin Peaks The Return: A Singularly Blazing Black Out

I don’t believe in escapism.

This is something I have grown to understand, and accept with age.

That my own personal enthusiasm for culture, and in this case, film and narrative, come from a place where the real intersects with our dreams. The wishes we impose on the public. A way in which we can explore our relationship with daily realities, much less contradict them. And in that way, effective filmmaking, is a lot closer in presentation to a prism by which we perceive and digest the real world. So when I continue to hear others beat the drum that they read books, watch movies, and go to shows to escape reality, I cannot help but wince.

Because reality will always win.

And this isn’t because the rift between realities and our greatest dreams are at any true odds with one another. But rather that after a good session of dreams, we have the capability of being renewed, inspired, possibly even enhanced by them. Reality may win, but this is wholly due to how we allow the mind to breathe through our most difficult of times.

Which brings us to the final two hours of Twin Peaks The Return, which not only lives up to its authors’ intent of closing a book that originally began twenty-seven years ago, but seeks to endlessly dispel notions of safety, comfort, fan appeasement, common logic, and expectation. And despite this, and having survived such a situation before, it remains something to be cherished and mulled for years to come.

When we last left our friends, all points seemed to be razor fixed on what seemed to be a shared destiny between a great majority of them. Mr. C, was seen heading toward Peaks along a darkened highway. Cooper, along with the Mitchum Bros & Candee, Mandee, and Sandee, are on a flight to Spokane. Word following their harrowing altercation with “Diane”, ends with them at last being notified of the recent history of “Douglas Jones”, as well as his current run north. All while Naido, the blind woman, remains in a cell beneath the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Station with a shifty Chad, the Mocking Man, James & Freddie. Come the start of this hour, destiny intervenes, allowing Mr C. to enter the Sheriff’s station with poor Andy, believing that he is indeed our Cooper. And what follows could only be described as one of the most overwhelmingly suspenseful sequences in the entire history of the series.

But what comes in the wake of this inevitable confrontation, is where our greatest deliverance begins.

After what seems to almost resemble a climactic convergence, and Naido has indeed been revealed to have always been the true Diane, hidden away while her tulpa duplicate walked the Earth with the Blue Rose Society, we are granted an overlapped, real time close up of Cooper’s baffled stare. As if to suggest that what we have been seeing all along, was but one dream of several. Almost as in flashback. What happens in these moments, may be crucial toward deciphering everything that follows. Which is where I admit to all of this being too fresh to completely digest. But what follows throughout this stunning emotional reunion of old friends, and meeting between generations, is a suggestion that Cooper has something big in mind.

“Now, there are some things that will change.”

“The past dictates the future”

Speaking, as if to say goodbye, Cooper has also placed the ring on the finger of his fallen, darker self, sending him back to the Black Lodge. All things seemingly in their place.

Having retrieved the old Great Northern Hotel room key from Sheriff Truman, another plan seems to very well be under way. The superimposed image of Cooper’s face, a reminder that perhaps none of what has happened had to. Emboldened by these events, the moves he makes beyond this moment, perhaps serve as but another possibility. Potential outcomes, being the ultimate blood that flows through the veins of the entirety of the Twin Peaks phenomenon, at last have become the objective focus for what follows.

However, none of what follows will play toward more casual, ardent, and traditional fans of popular culture. And this was the precise same feeling that overcame fifteen year old me the evening of June 10th, 1991. An hour remained, and by the dramatic shift in tone, and distension of quiet, it came clear to me that this was at last Lynch, unbridled by network, fan, or even co-writer expectations. We were in uncharted territory, tethered merely by the hope that everything would turn out something resembling fine.

Only it didn’t.

Viewers, are already expressing their lack of belief that Lynch and company would take their favorite characters , character threads, and sense of goodwill into such a dark, melancholy, nightmarish place, yet these are some of the same viewers that either didn’t experience that night I did twenty-six summers ago, or truly believed that so many threads could truly be tied in eighteen hours. The first hints that this was an improbability, came about throughout much of the Las Vegas sequences. The very thing that caused some to billow about the slow nature of said moments,  failed to consider that all of this has been deliberate from green light. That this was the Lynch we were going to experience should have been emblazoned on every scene following. The very nature of Lynch’s entire involvement with Twin Peaks, has been that of misdirection, and misalignment. His interest, isn’t solely that these beloved characters earn their happy endings, which echoes a bit of our scene a few hours ago with Ed and Norma. Moments like these remain idyllic, but falter in the face of the daily struggles we must endure to even earn such moments of transcendent peace. A depressing thought? Sure. But not a thought without merit.

Back to Cooper. Who we have learned, has been gathering revelations from the start, and seems primed to do the unthinkable;

He wishes to undo history by way of saving Laura Palmer.

“We live inside a dream”

Like Orpheus attempting to take Eurydice through and out of the underworld, the forthcoming hour presents to us both a man revived, and yet disconnected from the reality that so many have grown to accept. That the power of undoing the fabric of time and space, may be no domain for any mere person, let alone a well-meaning, hopelessly good man like Cooper. He wishes no pain on those he cares for. Yet, like many of Americans in this fractured era, he lacks the hindsight that we persist. That we move forward despite the heartbreak. That none of what came in the loss of Laura, was wholly bad, let alone unhealthy for the universe. He gambled on a sort of invasive surgery into the lives of those he held dear, and has now possibly broken it beyond repair. And by undoing the world we knew, he may very well have opened it to something far, far worse.

Hour Eighteen of Twin Peaks (2017), is that voyage beyond the voyage. A journey into the outer worlds of not only what we had already experienced, but deeper into the wants of even its most inspiring protagonists. Even they have bouts with selfishness when confronted with the ability to do great good for the world. Universal balance, meaning that the threads that interconnect and help define our lives, often do so without us knowing that the best possible path is already under way. He tried to escape. He tried to undo the pain. He tried to save her. And in doing so, redemption might be further away now.

It’s a truly shattering notion to end a series on. Let alone a series that has gone on to inspire a feature film, several books, and a fandom that remains ardent despite the often frayed relationship some may continue to have with it. With a denouement which ends with a horrific scream, a startling blackout, and a slow-motion visual callback during the credits, this is a wholly intentional reminder that none of what we have today is to be taken lightly. That life persists, and that this means potential for change going ever forward.

We don’t have to escape.

But we can confront the future in whatever way seems fit for more of us.

Twin Peaks The Return Hour Sixteen: All Stars Aligned

Nearly a week later, and I'm still in a total daze.

Special Agent Dale Cooper is back.

I just find myself giddy saying that.

Special Agent Dale Cooper is back.

But before this, we must also soundly clock all the amazing moments that preceded, and followed this most anticipated event. First we catch up with Mr.C, and Richard Horne, driving deep past the woods, and into a clearing where a large rock watches over the several acres. Having been given three sets of coordinates throughout the series, and only two matching, C hands Richard a tracking app to home in on the source of a beep. This is all while the eternally lost Jerry Horne watches from a distance through inverted binoculars. C, seemingly unfazed by what happens next, once and for all eliminates Richard from this mortal plane, and seals it that Mr C, has absolutely no care in the world for the human shields he creates and unleashes into the world, even his own seed. They are all simply means to an end.

Next, we are shown that Cooper has been rendered into a coma in the wake of his antics last week with an electrical outlet and a fork. And this is strangely fortuitous as Chantal & Hutch, have at last arrived in a van waiting outside of the Jones' home. From the still searching feds, to a pesky Russian agency man, our oddly charming fast food duo at last meet a simultaneously blazing, and tragicomic end. All while the also just arrived Mitchum Bros. look on with jaws agape.

"What the fuck kind of neighborhood is this?"

Rest In Peace, Chantal & Hutch. Somehow, I never found myself capable of utterly disliking this pair. Even in the moments before it all blasted apart, their passion for greasy food, polyamory, and regret thinking about past debts, made them into somewhat likable marks. They too, game pieces working for a cold, calculating king in black leather.

Not only does the subtitle of this new season at last come to full clarity, it also defines the very arduous and challenging road it took to get here. And it doesn't skimp on allowing viewers to feel just how difficult it was to allow the stars to align in such a satisfying way. In an hour that now seems far more deliberate than previously wondered, we are at last capable of looking back at the Chaplin-esque adventures of a half-aware Cooper, living the life of a construct. The episode inevitably lets us in on that fact. Cooper, has always been here. He was here every step of the way, while inability hindered his body long enough for him to live the life of a seemingly simple man. The scene where he at last awakens as Janey and Sonny Jim are out, and he confirms the score with the One Armed Man, now back at 100%, so much emotion began wracking my body. The calm efficiency in which our favorite Fed gives out orders, and in such a soothing manner, reminds me of why so many of us wanted to follow him in the first place. As he gets Bushnell to help, and soon hops into a car with "Wife and Child" in a car, tearing through a sunny freeway as "Falling" plays loudly as emotional compliment, the show has at last fulfilled one of its great promises.

Now able to obtain help from the ever sweet Mitchum Boys, Cooper now has access to a flight to Spokane. But first, his goodbyes to the family he had for a time called his own, becomes one of Lynch's most classically human moments. When he still cannot properly explain what has happened, and what has happened to their Dougie. Sonny Jim's cries of him being his father hit like a brick to the chest. Still short on time, Coop has to reaffirm to them that one way or another, he will return. Aware that not everything is wholly clear, Janey's last kiss and passing words, "Whoever you are..Thank you." All while our hero races against time to put an end to everything, it is probably this moment that has hit me the hardest throughout this new series. Ordinary people, caught in a maelstrom of something beyond comprehension, being torn away by embers of truth that have at last come in from the edges, is a powerful story move if done with care. And Lynch completely sends it home.

This is where it must be said, I absolutely adore the work that both MacLachlan and Watts have done throughout this Twin Peaks experience. I'll admit to not being sure about Watts initially, but once it came clear to me what kind of person would be so tough, yet so vulnerable to such a lug as Dougie, she soon became one of my favorite Lynch characters. And the work MacLachlan displays here in various roles, and often within the same hour, between edits, the end result is nothing short of magic. There is no hyperbole when I say that their work must be recognized come awards season. Like everything else that works here in Twin Peaks, it all comes together because of this sense of family, something both these performers carry with them beyond their past roles for the director. They understand the world they are in, and have no compunctions about making these roles theirs.

But what comes immediately after this spat of euphoria, brings with it some new jolts of their own. Especially in the form of Diane, who's receipt of Mr. C's cryptic post Richard fry text of...

";-) ALL" With expressions that range from hypnotic to panicked, to resolute, she at last steps from the bar, seemingly ready to kill her Blue Rose comrades with a gun neatly packed away in her purse. But what follows, offers not only a stunning bit of performance on Dern’s part, but also grants us a window into our worst fears regarding Mr.C, and ultimately, who (or what) Diane truly has become. A climactic moment ensues, leaving us with naturally greater questions, but also deep implications as to what has happened to the real Diane. Could she be split into multiple tupla? Is she gone forever? And what’s her connection to Naido; the blind woman now at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Station. If she wasn’t her, then what has happened?

And then, there’s the Roadhouse finale, serenaded by none other than Eddie Vedder, and an acoustic track that underlies one of the show’s great questions regarding one of Lynch’s greatest obsessions; identity.

I stare at my reflection to the bone

Blurred eyes look back at me

Full of blame and sympathy

So, so close

Right roads not taken, the future's forsaken

Dropped like a fossil or stone

All while Audrey and Charlie at last enter the venue. The very heart of the series, this location, and possibly the unheralded heart of the series itself. Still seeking Billy, the two reach the bar. And it isn’t long before the announcer follows up Eddie’s prophetic song by introducing a familiar musical interlude. Only, the jukebox of the RR is but a memory, and even the song, Audrey’s Dance, a truly meta moment among a project awash in meta ideas and crossovers, is met with applause as the jazz ensemble hits a familiar slinky rhythm. Spotlight dawns over Audrey, with her in an almost Pavlovian response, beginning her dazed movements as the song fills us with memories of a precocious teen we once knew. One might also not be blamed for expecting credits to roll at this moment, but we linger with Ms. Horne, until she overhears more drama from near the bar. And in a panic, she bolts over to Charlie, imploring that he gets her out of here-

FLASH. Light. Light, everywhere. And a less kempt, breathless version of her is seen gasping into a circular mirror.

We’ve all be taken for a ride. Not unlike last hour’s moment with Charline Yi, The Roadhouse is a conduit of sorts for so much of Peaks’ people and their individual pockets of distress, drama, and despair. A cross-section of people, still living in a Shadow of loss many current patrons have little to no care about. And yet, we’re here. Many truths on the cusp of being revealed. Something terrifying about the real that keeps us enraptured by the dream.

“But who is the dreamer?”

We may at last know who it is. But does this also mean the same for everyone? And what of the viewer? Lynch & Frost’s special alchemy, has long been that of being true to the notion that film is little more than a series of expressed dreams, with its viewers as paying dreamers. Where do we go, when we at last wake up? It’s something I often think about when watching, talking about, and writing about the film experience. That we ourselves are continuing the process by allowing these dreams to pass through us. And said process does not end the moment we leave the darkened theater, or favorite chair at home. The gift that Twin Peaks The Return offers to us, is the chance to delve further into why we watch the things we do, and consider what it is we are truly seeking, vicariously living through the lives of fictional characters, concepts, and environments. It has been a strange, beautiful, eerie, and funny ride being able to experience this. And something tells me that it will be years before we are ever granted anything quite like this again.

Not since Fury Road, have I felt such a cathartic connection with a filmed work. But unlike many, I do not lament its passing. Like all wonderful things, it is not meant to stay. And as such, I’m very grateful that we even had a chance.

Hour Fifteen Of Twin Peaks: A Symphony Of Triumph, Terror & Tragedy

Beginning the hour with what feels like a short dedicated to the series’ most distended, frustrating love triangle.

A bright, shiny morning in Twin Peaks.

At last inspired by the piss and vinegar speeches of none other than Dr. Amp, Nadine at last comes to clarity to tell Big Ed that he could at last move forward.

It’s a huge gimme to longtime fans, one that feels a bit on the easy side. But considering how long this triangle has suffered from day one of the original, it seems like Frost and Lynch, know that this is as bright a moment as we could possibly have before matters proceed. It’s vindication for sweet ol’ Ed Hurley, and a much needed wake up for Norma, as she seemed almost ready to waver on everything she has held dear with the RR. Sure, her arc lasted no longer than an episode, but her lack of confidence about going full franchise should have been a glaring hint.

That protracted shot of Ed at the counter, eyes closed, feels like something our creators had long envisioned. There’s true catharsis in clocking McGill’s age, and the use of Otis Redding in the background as a certain hand reaches out for him. It’s a moment many fans have waited for, and it is well-deserved.

The climax has begun.

Through the darkened highway, mere miles from Peaks, Evil Coop has at last come to Washington where he finally arrives off the path to the fabled Convenience Store. Heralded by several of the soot covered men we know and fear, his walk from his vehicle, deep through numerous stairs, doorways, and courtyards, we also see what seems to be the motel Leland Palmer once used to spend time with Teresa Banks. A darkened, dusty, nightmare world rendition of the place in easily what is one of the most unwelcoming in Lynch’s entire film history. Penderecki’s Threnody For The Victims Of Hiroshima, erupts again, signaling that we are at last reaching the belly of the beast.

Mr. C’s reason for stopping by is simple; he needs to meet with Philip Jeffries.

A meeting that I admittedly have been awaiting since the voice reveal of the character in lieu of the painful passing of one David Bowie.

But before that, the man at the switch..And the being in the red mask. Sarah Palmer? Again, imagery we have only seen in FWWM. At last, this is all coming together? The meeting itself between Mr C., and Jeffries plays out in what I can only describe is the last motel vacancy in hell. Their face off is comprised of questions that C can’t seem to gather any answers to, further frustrating our villain as his one time comrade seems to have taken on the guise of a giant coffee kettle, complete with steam billowing out, not to mention further puzzling statements. Power cuts in and out, electric humming switches from on to off, and a phone rings, further leaving Mr. C, and us to more fervently ask, “Who is Judy?” After all, Judy was someone Jeffries refused to talk about back in Philadelphia in 1989 with Gordon and Albert present. We were going to keep her out of this. But now, C has to see her himself. And has been granted some coordinates. (Similar to ones previously shared? Or..The Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department?)It is hard to describe the utterly uncompromising nature of this entire sequence, as it is the epitome of one filmmaker’s ability to render an entire environment into an unsettling statement in atmosphere. When thinking of the influence Lynch has had on popular culture over the years, moments like these are why the Silent Hill game series at the start left such a deep impression. And even that franchise pales in comparison to what is presented here. Evil Coop’s return is something that sticks to the back of the mind days after we leave it. Just as soon as he leaves, and at last comes to meet possible son, Richard Horne, taking him along for the remaining ride, the Convenience Store, and all of its denizens, back into non-existence.

Then we’re whiplashed back to daylight, where a desperate, and horribly strung out Steven is ready to commit the unthinkable with almost as wired Gersten Hayward in tow. A misty morning suicide jag, isn’t what a lot of us expected, but here it is. So this, is what has become of Becky’s husband. Becky, daughter of Shelly and Bobby. It’s a wrenching scene considering how little screen time we actually had with him. It’s confirmation again that Peaks, in the wake of all that has happened, has become this desolate place where desperation consumes families, and leaves so much potential dead in a ditch. There was one witness to this seeming awful, pathetic ending(Hey, is that Mark Frost?), but what this means to the rest of our friends in town, remains to be seen.

Back at the Roadhouse, we get our first real look at the Hand Of Justice in action as silly James walks over to gawk at very married Renee, which only naturally ends in disaster. And Freddie, being the spry pal he is, unleashes the power of his White Lodge given new power a spin. And it is a scary wallop to witness. Yikes. Hope he didn’t kill anyone.

Meanwhile, in Vegas..

FBI continues to seek out Dougie Jones, but to little success while Chantal and Hutch begin to close up loose ends in killing Duncan Todd(Patrick Fischler), and his assistant. Apparently, they’re down to one last target? Dougie? Again, the hands seem to be reaching a clock’s ultimate toll with this accelerated narrative. There’s an almost Terminator-eque race to see who will reach our hapless golden boy in time-

And yet, nothing this amazing episode has already dished out, can compare with a pair of bombs designed to amp the emotional stakes to the highest possible plateau. I’m of course speaking of the passing of the one and only Margaret Lanterman, also known as The Log Lady. Her final words piercing numerous levels of reality, thereby proving that Peaks above all else is a direct, personal interaction between writer and director and performer and audience. With her words to Hawk that she is moments from death, and the warning that follows, her ascension is akin to the intense sunlight of the hour’s beginning being quietly snuffed out. The vigil in the sheriff’s station afterward, is a moment we are all invited in sharing. It’s a strong blurring of the lines between real and fiction, that finally sets the stage for a three-hour finale that could at last close a book twenty seven years in the reading. It’s an unbelievable amalgam of time, life, and creation regardless of the bumps, and pauses along the way.

The second? As recently hinted at in interviews, the final hour of half-present Cooper in Dougie’s shoes, may at last be at an end. Please. For the love of Pete, never do what he did. As basic a home safety tip as that has always been, few things are as nerve-rending as seeing a curious party approach a power outlet with such curiosity. It’s the scratching away at a most domestic of horrors, and yet perhaps the charmed life he had indeed been living was more than enough. Poor Janey. Poor Sonny Jim. Welcome to reality.

A stunner of an hour that feels a little late in the earning, but survives by way of sheer love for these characters, new and old. (Okay, maybe not Steven), and a deep need to remain an outlaw piece of surreal cinema. It's a gift that only has three hours left, and with that, I choose to enjoy every remaining second.

Parts Twelve & Thirteen of Twin Peaks The Return, A Needed Rest Stop?

Are there enough words to properly describe what a gift Lynch and Frost have granted this world with Twin Peaks? Even when this new rendition finds itself grinding gears in the name of a few supplemental plot points, there's always that feeling that despite its problems, you'll still never guess where they'll take us next. This also applies to the very nature of time itself. The more closely one looks at the events unfolding, there's little here happening in any fashion that remotely resembles earth time. The world of the show, and its characters seem to exist outside of traditional time and space, and as such it is hard to get a handle on whether or not this is all intentional. In any case, the tales both intertwining and happening parallel sink into an almost placid mode with these two hours, making them among the least propulsive, and possibly most frustrating episodes yet.

From Tammy's (And later, Diane's) induction into the Blue Rose Society, which was founded in the 1970s after a mystery involving one of our agents here, to the startling, and ultimately stymie-worthy reveal of a fan favorite. They are a collection of moments that feel less like the current series, and more a supplemental heavy rendition of some of the more seemingly aimless latter episodes of Season Two. Which isn't to say that they are bereft of astonishing moments. Beginning with a stretch of minutes, catching up with Sarah Palmer(the ever terrific, Grace Zabriskie), who's stressful trip to the market is followed by a visit by Hawk, in a series of scenes that heavily evoke Fire Walk With Me. Moment of pure, distended unease and crippling terror. What is established here, is a series of scenes that take an unusually prolonged amount of time to get occasionally nowhere. But these scenes with Sarah, underlie something potentially central to the finale of the story. 

We also gather more Ben Horne in the aftermath of the latest wrath of his now confirmed grandson, Richard. What begins as an assessment of the damage left in his wake, becomes a classically Ben tangent regarding his treasured childhood bicycle. Perhaps reinforcing that a previous generation's values often were whittled down to items they possessed. A remnant of a world quite alien from the youth of not only those with less, but of even those with more today. Meanwhile, Brother Jerry remains out in another dimension out in those woods.

But episode twelve's most startling section heralds the return of Sherilyn Fenn's Audrey Horne, who now seems inexplicably trapped in a situation, and in turn, so is the audience. Near frantic in the search for her lover, the once before mentioned Billy, the once plucky and mischievous Audrey is locked in a quandary with a little man who claims to be her ineffectual husband, Charlie (Clark Middleton). His unwillingness to take her seriously, let alone help her find Billy, is both one of the most demanding and ultimately frustrating moments of the series to date. Demanding in that it isn't readily apparent what seems to actually be taking place, and frustrating in just how protracted the scene becomes. It perhaps is only made more painful when considering this beloved character, seemingly in an emotional prison of sorts as Charlie opts to make a phone call to a mysterious, unseen Tina (whom we will soon come to realize is another invisible player, ala Billy). The scene, like many in hour twelve, seem to exist in a space firmly planted between functional plot, and individual shorts built on absurdist foundations. After a while it becomes hard to tell whether it's mere padding, or outright trolling. But where the scene's most compelling notion is that dreams are again regarded as a window into a larger reality. Which could also inform the larger implications of Peaks as a whole; a world shattered in the days following the death of one young girl. There will always be mysteries, but the scene, like Eraserhead alone seems closest in tone to that film in the way that conversations have a specific cadence and air that recalls some of our most baffling dreams as they seem to loop endlessly. 

Or Lynch, is simply parodying the very nature of this elusive narrative event. Maybe there is no carrot. 

Let us also consider the awaited hit on Warden Murphy, a seeming complete repeat of Doc Jacoby's show and sales pitch. Framing the heart of the show as something wholly concerned with America as a nation on an economic precipice. It's a refrain that has grown louder and louder since the series began. With history being made in the real America at this very moment, the show can also be seen as a somewhat more innocent summation of what led to this specific moment in time. Either way, all signs continue to point toward northern Washington for a final culmination. 

The meetings at the Roadhouse, continue to offer up clues as to who these unseen characters in the periphery of the story are, and how they may very well play into the finale. Clark, Angela, and now Trick, all continuing on like a cast of characters we will never truly meet. Never truly know. Like real life, and it's many transient conversations that might even involve something tangential to our own lives. Perhaps a reminder that we all share the same seemingly endless story.

Part Thirteen, continues in this placid realm where we are granted further shades of what is building up on all sides. We have the next big moment in the Vegas story with the Mitchum boys, conga lining with "Dougie", and the girls thanking Mr. Bushnell Mullins at Lucky Seven Insurance in lieu of Part eleven's charming twist of fortune. Not to mention, the glow on Janey E's face at the revelation that this little victory also included a new car, and an absurd beyond absurd backyard gym set for little Sonny Jim! Such the turnaround for the wife who was ready to lay down laws with Batman-like deal but a few hours ago. "Dougie's" license become a cheery mirror to every encroaching darkness at the corners of the story, and he isn't even wholly there. What Frost and Lynch are saying here, should lead to some interesting debate for some time..

Meanwhile, what serves for me as the reason this episode truly exists, is the scene that follows, where Evil Coop at Las arrives in Montana to catch up with Ray who left him for dead back in Part Eight. Only, he has to get through this compound of pure wickedness and it's imposing leader to get to him. Which mounts to an arm wrestling match that not only displays just how out of their depth this criminal organization is in dealing with this man, but in just how in control of the situation he truly is. It's easily the most compelling section of the hour, only made better by the presence of Frank Collison, as the kingpin's right hand(sic) man. The confrontations here remain as surreal as anything else in this world, but the outcome grants a seething amount of dread for what's come. Evil Coop, is in control. Evil Coop, will get the information he needs. He is now aware of Philip Jeffries, and the conspiracy against him. This includes the ring that was supposed to be put on him post his "murder". He also is in possession of those much wanted coordinates.

Now, Evil Coop has an army.  

Worse? Our suspicions as to the identity of Richard Horne's true father might just be on the money. 

Meanwhile, back in Vegas where police make one dollar bets on paper baskets while utter horrors adorn the halls of the station, rattled cheat, Anthony Sinclair caves in after being pressured to take care of the Dougie problem once and for all, leading to a charming and again impressively funny "confession" at the insistence of both Dougie and Mr. Mullins. With Dougie Coop, so easily mapped via his predilection for coffee, again evades death by merely being a silent comedy protagonist. 

Never underestimate the power of coffee and cherry pie. 

And speaking of coffee and cherry pie, the revelations that love in the Peaks universe seems reserved for the wholly innocent, the reveal of what became of Norma and Ed, is further bruised by another appearance of that dreaded refrain. Couple this with the moment Nadine meets her idol in Jacoby, and the melancholy heart at the center of this grand opus remains inescapable. Not at all unlike Sarah Palmer, seemingly trapped in an endless loop of the same conflict time and again, and not unlike Audrey, still unable to leave to search for Billy. Fearing that she is someone else. That she, like each and every one these characters are trapped. Endlessly bond by an inexplicable gravity. Spiraling ever closer toward each other yet irrevocably apart.

 "What story is that, Charlie?"

Then there's James.

 -Wait, what?

-Oh, and the less we talk about the French woman with a mother who has a turnip farm, the better. And those last moments, while beautiful in their own right, make me worry for good ol' Ed.

There's Fire Where You Are Going: Some Words About Twin Peaks Part Eleven

Looking back to the start of this new chapter in Lynch's increasingly monumental work, it's coming quite clear that none of what we ever imagined will come to pass in Twin Peaks. At almost every turn, the eighteen hour event has presented us with near collisions with expectation, only to dash them time and again with an assured hands. It's almost become something of a game for me to discern where the swerves will appear as the story becomes more linear. And yes, since part eight's stunning artistic and thematic mic drop, the larger narrative has opted for a more traditional format, and has been settling in with ease ever since. And what a difference a broadening of the scope with exteriors, varying locations, and a tapestry of new characters makes in lieu of a show once restricted by simple sets and budgets. More and more, Peaks feels like a full fledged novel of deep horrors, absurdist musings, and pointed personal commentary.

And through his characters, boy have he and Frost brought to the proceedings some serious ammunition, and in some of the most unexpected ways imaginable. From Becky's vengeful run against her junked out  guy, Stephen (who by the way, is also spending time with GERSTEN HAYWARD? - Alicia Witt, from a memorable moment in the original series, and little sis to the long lost Donna Hayward.), to the heart crushing aftermath, continuing the Ballad Of Bobby Briggs. In what amounted to an emotional rollercoaster of a first half, we not only discover that the now dutiful lawman with a troubled past, indeed fathered Becky with Shelly(Madchen Amick) of the RR. But we also learn definitively, that Becky indeed takes after a mother, who truly hasn't learned the lessons of the past. For those unfamiliar with Bobby, as the often insufferable little jerk who was hopelessly smitten with Laura Palmer, despite his own affairs, not to mention his own hand at a murder that only she knew about, it is helpful to know just how much of a 180 his life has truly undergone. Coming through the tunnel of restless youth, and back to the man his father always knew he'd be, it's incredibly tragic to witness the revelation that Shelly, has indeed run from him during this transformation, and is apparently now very much in love with Red(Balthazar Getty), the clearly dangerous criminal magician who Richard Horne seems to frighteningly admire. Let's also keep in mind, such an ardent fan of a psychopath, hasn't done much for his own ability to tie up loose ends.

Then there are Gordon, Albert, and the rest following up on Hasting's directions to Sycamore street out in Buckhorn, where matters further manifest into the deep weird. With Gordon, almost being taken by a spontaneous vortex in the sky during broad daylight, and another appearance of The Woodsman, which Albert calls, "it". Followed by the sudden, horrific death of Hastings, seemingly at the hands of the dark specter itself. A vision shared by Diane, who never mentions it, soon to the suspicious gaze of Albert. Her role, ever more unclear as an outsider to the group. A reality further displayed by her seating in the aftermath with everyone as they recap these events over a reliable pot of coffee. The coding of the moment, couldn't be more glaring; she isn't a part of them, and has aims of her own, further bolstered by her need to smoke.

But the real hard left of the segment comes in the form of Good Coop's adventure with the at one point murderous Mitchum Brothers. With a sequence that plays like a comedic riff on Mulholland Drive's "Dream Of Winky's" scene, a dream undoes all tension, returning Coop's life to the almost loveable cinematic clown tale that it has largely been from the start. It's almost as if Vegas, has become something of a reminder of the possibility of redemption in even some of the most dire situations. It borders on a Buster Keaton, or Chaplin film where happenstance, and luck conjure up unexpected friendships in a world so often misunderstood. At this point, Cooper's life has become a refreshing antidote to much of the show's displays of humanity in America, as stretched beyond it's ability to hold life together without animosity, duplicity, or avarice. While women scream about their own ability to get across town, and children dress like their survivalist dads, further bolstering both Lynch's penchant for doppelgangers, and notion that we are inextricable from our parents in both our best and worst ways, here are a pair of powerful crooks, who somehow find it in themselves to communicate well enough to not murder, and in turn welcome a once sworn enemy into their circle of trusted friends. In a scene that qualifies among some of the most disarming of the series, the boys play a game of "what's in the box", only to defuse that particular bomb due to a dream. And the body language of one James Belushi, as Bradley, is among the most surprising in not only this show, but in the man's thirty year career. It's like a spark awoke within the man, and it's a moment of palpable joy that is so well rewarded, that everything that follows, is rife with an awkward charm, and reminder that planted information may be no match for a well-considered pause. 

Further rewarded by a reappearance by the once homeless woman our Mr. Jackpots once helped. It's a deeply affecting moment, which again reaffirms that this is indeed our Cooper. He's definitely in there, reaching out ever gradually. Nodding to Rodney's celebration of good drinks and astonishing cherry pie.

"Damn good."

Back with Hawk & Truman, make no mistake, something huge is on the horizon. But it could come at great cost. Where all of this will come to a head, no one can truly say. And that remains the most singularly exciting thing about this. But on the other hand, the reality that we only really have seven hours of this remaining, is nothing less than a little depressing.

Dougie Jones' Strangely Charmed Life: Twin Peaks The Return (Episodes 5-6)

 "When this kind of fire starts, it is very hard to put out. The tender boughs of innocence burn first. And the wind rises. And then, all goodness is in jeopardy."

  -The Log Lady

As we delve further into the bottomless Chinese box Lynch and company have been devising for us, it again grows ever clearer that the boughs of innocence extended far beyond the youthful visage of whitebread American goodness in Laura Palmer, but in everything we grew to know as familiar within Twin Peaks' particular town limits. For sure, the weird has always been a pervasive element. But never before has it been captured with such an ominous set of oils. On the surface, it may look like classic Peaks. But gone is the bonkers humor or reaches for sheer camp. On top of this, these last two episodes seem ready to keep us at bay for any real answers for quite some time. 

Six hours in, and the story continues to spread across the country, yet seems ready to ease itself defiantly in Vegas as long as Lynch and Frost feel comfortable challenging the average viewer with extended and crushingly awkward moments of Dougie/Cooper, continuing his voyage back to total selfhood. And why not? So much of his reactions to the world around him, and the in turn utter confusion and exasperation from everyone else seems to be playing hard against the very gawking audience that pushed the original series into an early grave. But what such viewers may be missing , is both the cackling humor of it all, coupled with some truly touching moments as Kyle MacLachlan patiently and often brilliantly delivers hints that things are coming together. Whether it's his fascination with a classic statue of a dutiful lawman, or uttering terms like "case file", pieces seem to be coming back for our favorite G-man. It's a singular and affecting performance that a television show, let alone a feature film could rarely deliver. 

He's in a dazed. Probably not too different from how Lynch himself views the contemporary landscape. Like anticipating a return to an almost infant state as age takes hold. It's both a distressing and hilarious feeling that almost renders parts of the series hard to watch. 

But. Take heart.  

Just going to up and say it, Dougie Jones is one lucky guy. Yeah, sure he seems to have a gambling problem.  The mob seems to be hot on his tail. He has extramarital concerns. He doesn't even seem to exist anymore. But through the eyes of a dazed, half alive Special Agent Dale Cooper, we are host to the man's world, a host of both the hyper-ordinary, coupled with extraordinary circumstance. He's no simple Las Vegas insurance salesman. Heck, just take one good extended look at his family life, and take in the fact that despite all the drama surrounding him, he's just damned lucky to have run across a morally upright, understanding firebrand like Janey E. She'll meet with potentially deadly thugs out in a public park, talk shop, and end a threat with some common sense based on current percentage figures as per her job at the bank, and end it with a solid counter offer. The kind with the kind of rare authority, that even said thugs have to step back and admire it. This together with their amazing child, Sonny Jim, it almost seems terribly tragic that very soon, they may come to realize that Dougie, is indeed gone. 

I bring this all up at the very beginning, because It seems important to highlight the complications that are mounting in lieu of the events that are now swirling well beyond the town limits of the show's titular community. Even as Evil Coop has been in a cell in South Dakota, pieces are moving about wildly, ever glacially drawing events closer to where it all began. Unfinished business is at the heart of Twin Peaks: The Return, and it seems ready to tease matters out as far as possible. Not at all unlike a novel. With the author savoring every opportunity to bask in these moments with characters one clearly has affection for. 

Hawk, after some dogged investigating, has stumbled upon what could be a nuclear revelation connected to the events of twenty five years past. And it wasn't among the mountain of case documents and articles left behind during the Laura Palmer case. Wilder yet, it may very well have been hinted at in a dream she had days before her murder. 

Albert, has at last found who he and Gordon were speaking of a few episodes back. Red herring edit to the Bang Bang Bar aside, we are at last somewhere in New York where we meet the never before seen Diane(Laura Dern!) before cutting away. 

Meanwhile, we at last have who will likely become a central figure in this 18 hour saga. And we get it within the most familiar of Twin Peaks locations, the Double R with Shelley Johnson revealed to still be working for Norma, being approached for money by her teenaged daughter, Becky(Amanda Seyfried). This is not long after being introduced to Becky's loser boyfriend,  Steven (Caleb Landry Jones) who has been struggling to get work in between hits of coke. The stage seems to be assembling for a repeat of history, while events thousands of miles away seem to be ever gravitating closer to the origin point. 

Couple this with the fact that some of Dougie's Vegas pursuers have been killed by another party by mistake. The ensuing chain reaction, has activated what has become one of the series' most utterly baffling characters. Ike the Spike, who's diminutive stature and accompanying hip-hop theme music have done in three minutes what takes most horror films 90 minutes to make frightening. This is no joke when I unpack just how genuinely scary and milk spitting hilarious this guy is. It seems to come completely out of nowhere, and will be a character worth watching out for. Especially since Dougie seems to be next on his hit list! One can only hope that Cooper wakes up soon enough to put his long neglected boxing abilities to the test. Because in his current state, we'd be lucky to get a sprint out of our hero. 

And let's not wind down without considering Peaks' next generation of pure sociopaths in Richard(Who may very well be a Horne), who's allegiance to the clearly psychotic magical gangster Red(Balthazar Getty, doing a mean Frank Booth) is being tested by being endlessly called "kid". Richard, also in record time, has gone from being wholly detestable to outright pathetic monster as his mission to traffic a Chinese designer drug hits a speedbump in the form of a child in the street. A scene that again melds sheer horror with over the top cackle fuel. Thankfully, Fat Trout manager, Carl (Harry Dean Stanton) witnesses the whole awful event with what seems to be a reassuring epiphany. 

And all of this as we have yet to find out just who Linda is from the Giant's message at the very beginning. "Two birds, one stone", he said. Whether this means incarceration for the duo, or a straight up hit list, remains to be seen. 

Which brings us to what seems to be gnawing at the corners of the entire series for me this far. Not unlike Margaret's troubling words in Fire Walk With Me, the bugs had only begin to infect the community of Twin Peaks during the days of the Palmer investigation. While the powerful were feuding over the fate of the Packard sawmill, and Ghostwood, these were elements that invited small time thuggery as extension. In the past, elements like th3 Renault brothers, were but a fixture on the outskirts of town. But what seems to be bubbling up now in lieu of economic uncertainty, is both an arms race of entropy and apathy. This is exhibited by a deputy, who's not only an openly cruel human being, but a man on the take. Janey E's impassioned retort to the gangsters, and ultimately the former Doctor Jacoby's nutbar InfoWars conspiracy/marketing scheme show. Let's also consider the show equating the gangsters with the bank Janey works for, not to mention Dougie's job at an insurance company rife with the adulterous, and venal side by side during group meeting. The world of Peaks, has gone full opportunist vampire. The show seeming to suggest that in the years since the disappearance of Dale Cooper, and the emergence of Bob/Coop, the ensuing moral chasm that appeared in the wake of these events threatens not only some of our beloved friends in the north, but of America as a whole. It's a vision of a society aimlessly longing for an illusory past, despite considering the world so vibrantly passing them by. Too many find themselves in planted denial. Unyielding. Thereby inviting the classic Lynchian bugs that once thrived beneath Lumberton, North Carolina. And while we really should be pacing ourselves with any semiotic reading since this is much closer in form to a feature film than a series, it could be way too early to hone in on what exactly Frost and Lynch have in mind for the series thematically. But even at six hours, its ambitions cannot be underestimated. Here's hoping a long neglected slumber is about to come to a well-earned end. 

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..