Twin Peaks Out of Order #1: Episode 29
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2015 7:29 pm
Re-watching Twin Peaks from my least favorite to favorite episode...
Previously: Episode 14 (http://www.dugpa.com/forum/viewtopic.php?p=44338#p44338)
There are many great things about this episode: it contains the motherlode of Twin Peaks mythology, it retcons Cooper's dream into something more than a cryptic clue system, it brilliantly fuses the disparate first and second halves of the show into an intuitively cohesive whole, it manages to deliver on the Windom Earle, Caroline, Lodge, and Annie stories despite their previous weaknesses, and it completes the transformation of Cooper from a heroic guide into the narrative to the tragic subject of the narrative far more effectively than we might have expected. But the greatness of Twin Peaks’ final episode (for now) transcends its beneficial connections to the rest of the show. This is just absolutely brilliant filmmaking full-stop, up there with Hitchcock, Welles, Kubrick, whichever titan of cinema you want to name. Lynch was handed a disappointingly banal script - not up to the standards of the writers' previous highs - and transformed it into a masterpiece of avant-garde cinema, a Meshes of the Afternoon or Blood of a Poet splashed across prime-time network television, all while remaining true to the core of what that muddled teleplay attempted to convey. Every scene is paced perfectly (if often perversely). The performances are bullseyes. The camera movement, composition, movement with the frame, and shot structure are delivered with the masterly flourishes of a painter who knows how to improvise and exaggerate while remaining true to the human form. If we had nothing else to thank Twin Peaks for (and of course we do), we could be grateful that it transformed Lynch into this filmmaker, a sharp stylist returned to his original Eraserhead mode while employing an extended repertoire and more expansive vision. What's amazing is that this beautiful little masterpiece, as accomplished an hour of television as has ever been produced, was slammed back-to-back with one of the worst episodes of the series, stuffed into the cheesy Monday movie-of-the-week spot on ABC, and lost out in the ratings to reruns of Northern Exposure. Imagine flipping the channel in 1990 and winding up in the Black Lodge! The episode is brilliant as a standalone and it is also brilliant for improving the rest of the series, especially its second half, by association. Without it, Twin Peaks would feel immeasurably more incomplete and it's hard to imagine the same demand would exist for its return. All that 29 "lacks" (and it feels foolish to use that word, as it describes a flaw rather than a choice) is the overt empathy and humanism of Fire Walk With Me - at least after the equally defiant and distanced Deer Meadow prologue. Lynch still cares about these characters because the over-the-top delivery of the soap-opera cliffhangers is coupled with, as always, a naturalistic eye for sincere gesture and expression. But he also seems to be filled with a rage he would never quite cop to, a sense of betrayal and disgust at Twin Peaks' wayward path and perhaps his own culpability in allowing this decline to occur. Lynch's arch, dry sense of absurdity barely skins over a cold viciousness in his approach (for instance, Dell Mibbler's glasses soaring into the trees in lieu of a serious engagement with the possible deaths of Audrey and Pete), and this fury is in turn motivated by a sense of compassion and sorrow. Those deep emotions would be released (if not accepted) once Lynch finally delved into Laura Palmer's story, even offering her an angelic redemption by way of apology. Yet the rest of the town has been trapped in amber for a quarter-century, frozen in a series of grotesque, mute grimaces like Windom Earle squirming in Bob's grasp, conscious but helpless until the creator returns. How's Annie? How's everyone? We'll find out soon.
EDIT: Mostly because my blog has several upcoming pieces on Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, for which I would prefer to give the film a fresh viewing, separate from the series, I won't be covering it in this rewatch.
Previously: Episode 14 (http://www.dugpa.com/forum/viewtopic.php?p=44338#p44338)
There are many great things about this episode: it contains the motherlode of Twin Peaks mythology, it retcons Cooper's dream into something more than a cryptic clue system, it brilliantly fuses the disparate first and second halves of the show into an intuitively cohesive whole, it manages to deliver on the Windom Earle, Caroline, Lodge, and Annie stories despite their previous weaknesses, and it completes the transformation of Cooper from a heroic guide into the narrative to the tragic subject of the narrative far more effectively than we might have expected. But the greatness of Twin Peaks’ final episode (for now) transcends its beneficial connections to the rest of the show. This is just absolutely brilliant filmmaking full-stop, up there with Hitchcock, Welles, Kubrick, whichever titan of cinema you want to name. Lynch was handed a disappointingly banal script - not up to the standards of the writers' previous highs - and transformed it into a masterpiece of avant-garde cinema, a Meshes of the Afternoon or Blood of a Poet splashed across prime-time network television, all while remaining true to the core of what that muddled teleplay attempted to convey. Every scene is paced perfectly (if often perversely). The performances are bullseyes. The camera movement, composition, movement with the frame, and shot structure are delivered with the masterly flourishes of a painter who knows how to improvise and exaggerate while remaining true to the human form. If we had nothing else to thank Twin Peaks for (and of course we do), we could be grateful that it transformed Lynch into this filmmaker, a sharp stylist returned to his original Eraserhead mode while employing an extended repertoire and more expansive vision. What's amazing is that this beautiful little masterpiece, as accomplished an hour of television as has ever been produced, was slammed back-to-back with one of the worst episodes of the series, stuffed into the cheesy Monday movie-of-the-week spot on ABC, and lost out in the ratings to reruns of Northern Exposure. Imagine flipping the channel in 1990 and winding up in the Black Lodge! The episode is brilliant as a standalone and it is also brilliant for improving the rest of the series, especially its second half, by association. Without it, Twin Peaks would feel immeasurably more incomplete and it's hard to imagine the same demand would exist for its return. All that 29 "lacks" (and it feels foolish to use that word, as it describes a flaw rather than a choice) is the overt empathy and humanism of Fire Walk With Me - at least after the equally defiant and distanced Deer Meadow prologue. Lynch still cares about these characters because the over-the-top delivery of the soap-opera cliffhangers is coupled with, as always, a naturalistic eye for sincere gesture and expression. But he also seems to be filled with a rage he would never quite cop to, a sense of betrayal and disgust at Twin Peaks' wayward path and perhaps his own culpability in allowing this decline to occur. Lynch's arch, dry sense of absurdity barely skins over a cold viciousness in his approach (for instance, Dell Mibbler's glasses soaring into the trees in lieu of a serious engagement with the possible deaths of Audrey and Pete), and this fury is in turn motivated by a sense of compassion and sorrow. Those deep emotions would be released (if not accepted) once Lynch finally delved into Laura Palmer's story, even offering her an angelic redemption by way of apology. Yet the rest of the town has been trapped in amber for a quarter-century, frozen in a series of grotesque, mute grimaces like Windom Earle squirming in Bob's grasp, conscious but helpless until the creator returns. How's Annie? How's everyone? We'll find out soon.
EDIT: Mostly because my blog has several upcoming pieces on Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, for which I would prefer to give the film a fresh viewing, separate from the series, I won't be covering it in this rewatch.