Twin Peaks 2017

Naomi Watts and Kyle McLaughlin in Twin Peaks

David Lynch's Twin Peaks, an 18 hour reboot of the cult series, represents the director at his most disciplined and unbridled. Because he has countless hours to expand the series he and Mark Frost devised in 1990, Lynch can indulge his quirks and fantasies and indeed, he does. Everything irritating about the original series is here in spades, not least of which is an expanded role for Lynch's character, a hearing impaired FBI man. The hearing aid humor is still tiresome, but Lynch's FBI "Director" allows him to comment drolly on the casting couch when his character orders a comely agent to exit a room so he can watch her sashay away like a model. Similarly, the presence of zombified pink clad showgirls attending to the needs of two cartoon thugs is a cheap effect that culminates in a conga line, but it also functions as a comment on the commodified roles known as jobs available to women in our rapaciously capitalist culture.

Lynch continues to utilize his favorite axiom of the cinema, Kyle McLaughlin, as Agent Dale Cooper. McLaughlin does double duty as both Cooper and his evil doppelgänger for reasons too wearying to explain. The evil Cooper exists in a noir world of violence and revenge, the Coop is a tabula rasa much like Chauncey Gardner in Being There. Lynch amusingly plays off the stolid Cooper against the twitchy energy of his screen wife, Naomi Watts. Watts is able to present a master class in screen acting here, much as she did in Mulholland Drive (a film with numerous doppelgängers), where she played off similarly impassive players like Chad Everett and Laura Harring.

Miguel Ferrer and David Lynch

Lynch's storytelling is relaxed and indulgent. This sometimes results in twee mugging, particularly by the denizens of the Twin Peaks Sheriff's station, but, more often than not, results in heartfelt performances of grace and empathy. The number of name actors willing to work in bit roles in this series attests to the respect Lynch's oddly principled career has engendered. Lynch obtains heartfelt performances from Lynchian vets like Harry Dean Stanton, Miguel Ferrer and Laura Dern, but also exciting contributions from such Lynchian newbies as Amanda Seyfried, Caleb Landry Jones, and Eamon Farren. Added poignancy is gained from knowing that this is the last we will see of not only Messrs. Stanton and Ferrer, but others who have passed on such as Don Murray, Henry Silva and the log lady herself, Catherine E. Coulson.

What is most impressive about this series is how much Lynch has poured himself into this epic project. Themes and motifs from his oeuvre recur throughout the series to galvanizing effect: the industrial grunge of Eraserhead, the dark side of the American Dream in Blue Velvet, the search for identity in Mulholland Drive; all are present and amplified here. It is gratifying to see the visual and sonic energy on display here by Lynch who directed all eighteen hours. He will always be a surrealist, a bit outside the mainstream yet unconsciously reflecting upon it. The new Twin Peaks touches deftly upon both gun violence and the rise of Trump without Lynch breaking stride. It confirms his status as the most avant-garde of the major American commercial directors. (5/31/18)