‘Twin Peaks’ Midseason Report: A TV Revolution in Nine Episodes, Via David Lynch and ‘Dougie’
If Twin Peaks was an actual mountain range with two scalable peaks, well, congratulations. You’ve reached the top of hike No. 1.
David Lynch‘s 18-hour sequel season has aired nine “parts,” and anyone who’s stuck with it week-to-week, through all the cube staring, floor sweeping, and skull-crushing ghost hobos, knows it’s already been quite a trip.
But are you ready for more? Are we, as a society, prepared for another nine-hour climb through the dense forest of Lynch’s dreams?
When this journey started just seven weeks ago, no one knew what to expect. The secrecy implemented by Showtime and Lynch was unprecedented. There were (and are) no screeners for critics. Advertising was stripped of all images from the new season. Interviews were scarce, and stars weren’t allowed to say anything anyway. Plus, this is “Twin Peaks”: Any kind of guessing game as to “what’s next” was the ultimate exercise in futility.
To a large degree, it still is: The mysteries in “Twin Peaks” aren’t really the driving force of Lynch’s surrealist canvas. It’s about the reaction; the stimulus; the impact. So, now that we’re mid-way through, it’s pointless to guess how “The Return” will end. Instead, this is an assessment of what it’s already done and what it’s capable of doing; what we, as a culture, have drawn from it and whether, collectively, it’s worth watching nine more hours. (Hint: It is.)
To help each prospective hiker come to a decision, we’ll look at Season 3’s critical responses to better understand how audiences are watching “Twin Peaks.” We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again: Lynch is teaching us to watch TV differently with his new season. But what have we learned from him? Tomorrow, in Part 2 of our midseason report, we’ll dig into how ratings play into the equation, but now, as we prepare to ascend the season’s second mountain, this is what we know.
Critical Reaction, Then and Now
To say “Twin Peaks” had a critical fandom heading into its third season is a bit of an understatement. David Lynch’s two-season 1990s phenomenon survived to see a sequel because of its devoted followers: Critics, creators, and other industry veterans credited the series for inspiring everything from “Lost” to “Hannibal” and “Top of the Lake” to “The Leftovers.” It was ahead of its time. It was prestige TV a decade before people talked about prestige TV.
But critics are a fickle bunch. There was no guarantee the new offering would live up to its predecessor’s acclaim; not as it entered a landscape “Twin Peaks” helped shape 25 years prior. Early “Twin Peaks” reviews, when grouped together, read like a combination of nostalgic adoration and modern skepticism: Per RottenTomatoes, 94 percent of “The Return’s” initial reviews were positive and only dipped to 88 percent among top critics. Metacritic showed more conflict (as always), summing up the initial reaction with an average score of just 74. That’s nothing to sneeze at, but it’s well below the top-reviewed seasons of 2017. (“The Leftovers” holds the top spot with a 98, and six more scripted seasons scored above 90.)
What’s the bottom line? Is the new “Twin Peaks” as good as the original? Or, to ask a better question, is it as meaningful? That’s difficult to answer, given how divisive the show (like all of Lynch’s work) has been since the start. Though the drama caused quite a stir when it debuted on ABC in 1990, there’s still no consensus as to where it fell off, if it fell off, or how it stacks up among iconic TV shows. In terms of challenging viewers to see TV differently, the original “Twin Peaks” set the bar. Today, there’s mind-boggling TV no matter which way you turn. But if you look at the positive and negative arguments about Season 3, its overall significance becomes clearer: Like it or loathe it, the show made an impact.
The Lovers and The Haters
Vulture, led by critic Matt Zoller Seitz, recently anointed “Twin Peaks” as the best show on TV and did so even though the choice violated its pre-established rules. Typically, limited series are disqualified from Vulture’s TV Awards and ongoing series need to complete their current season before being considered. That “Twin Peaks” tops the list despite defying both stipulations illustrates just how highly Seitz thinks of Lynch’s early episodes, and his adamant support of “The Return’s” first half means even more given he believes the original seasons “proved unable to sustain that initial burst of freshness” seen at the start. Seitz knows nothing is guaranteed, yet he’s already fully behind “The Return.”
“Twenty-seven years ago, the meteor of ‘Twin Peaks’ hit television. It didn’t wipe out all the dinosaurs, but it did make them aware that they were dinosaurs, and that itself was remarkable,” Seitz writes, noting how the series defies traditional criticism as much as it makes the best entries in our evolved golden age of television look tame in comparison — how “even showrunners whose triumphs are built on Lynchian foundations are in awe of it.”
“‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ feels like another moment of reckoning for the medium — another meteor. Where do we go from here?”
An Alternate Assessment
Plenty of critics tend to agree with Seitz, if with less adamant verbiage, including Uproxx’s Alan Sepinwall, Variety’s Sonia Saraiya, Vox’s Emily St. James, and yours truly at IndieWire. In this regard, the series has already left its mark on the medium. Every week, there are new thoughts, new arguments, new theories, and new revelations. Anyone who thought “American Gods” was hard to follow or found “Sense8” a little too chaotic need to find new words to describe what Lynch is up to every week.
Critics have gone so far as to say Lynch declared war on recappers, but that’s not a complaint: It’s a fact. “Twin Peaks” isn’t a show that can be summed in words so much as it’s one that demands to be analyzed by emotional patterns, visceral reactions, and again we say, impact. No other TV has demanded such assessments be made, even if transcendent series like “The Leftovers,” “Mad Men,” and “The Wire” have invited and inspired unprecedented critiques. As IndieWire’s Chief Film Critic Eric Kohn writes, Lynch “draws you in, mystifies you, bores you, terrifies you…and leaves you with the sense that no matter what it all means, the experience has been meaningful.”
But there are unwavering naysayers; those who aren’t buying what Lynch is selling, even though they’re keeping up with the season. To condense these nuanced opinions to a single argument would be a disservice to their critiques, but we can learn something from a common complaint in multiple reviews: “Twin Peaks” features an expansive story that too often strays from the narrative.
In his review of the first two episodes, Time’s Daniel D’Addario writes, ‘The show, which derived its power from the aftermath of trauma in a small community, has chosen to tell a story that’s odder and bigger — so big, in fact, that it has so far choked off what made ‘Twin Peaks’ work all along. […] Lillard’s story has none of the charge of the killing of Laura Palmer; were it not airing under the ‘Twin Peaks’ banner, I wouldn’t keep watching that show.”
The comparison to the original series is notable. D’Addario, like many, saw the new “Twin Peaks” through the old “Twin Peaks'” lens; a fair jumping off point, especially for this review of the season opener, but one that’s proven useful only for spawning fan theories and tracking plot points through nine episodes — not assessing the overall Lynchian experience. THR’s Tim Goodman, however, remains unmoved through eight episodes: “Not all of what Lynch is putting on the screen is creepy and creative at the same time. Sometimes it’s just, well, weirdness as affectation. […] I’m finding Lynch’s many indulgences trying at this point but will keep watching to the end, even though it has rather aggressively been a show I find a chore to watch.”
TVLine’s Michael Ausiello also uses the word “chore” in his “Twin Peaks” review (to describe his frustration with the latter half of Season 2), but his distaste for the premiere (and presumably the rest of the episodes) goes much further. “To say I was disappointed by the revival’s indulgent, incomprehensible, taxing opening act would be a towering understatement. I won’t even attempt to break down the central storyline because, well, there is no central storyline. There are five or six narrative threads that are randomly intercut throughout the two hours featuring mostly new and uninteresting characters played by actors as wooden as the nightstand drawer pull in which Josie was trapped, and scenes that dragged on for what felt like eternity.”
Two Coopers and Two Kinds of TV Viewers
The difference in opinion seems driven by the criteria under assessment. Those who praise “Twin Peaks” tend to argue the series is an individual artistic endeavor standing out in a sea of shows too adherent to what’s come before. They’re excited by Lynch’s unpredictable vision, even when it vexes them. Other series break free in minor ways, pushing against the expected by breaking one or two rules, but “Twin Peaks” is playing an entirely different game — and to these viewers, that’s good. They’re looking to be challenged by the medium, not just the narrative within it.
That’s a different kind of expectation and appreciation than we’re used to seeing on TV. Recap reviews are based around spotting plot holes: When recapping what happened in an episode, if something doesn’t make sense, that’s bad. But if something doesn’t make sense in “Twin Peaks,” that’s often the point. Even when the original “Twin Peaks” aired, there were traditional charms that made it easier to embrace. The cast was charming, the quirks were grounded in reality, and, of course, the death of Laura Palmer needed to be solved. Only later did the otherworldly elements present themselves, and when they became too extreme, plenty of viewers bailed.
Take, for instance, the New Cooper: not the Evil Cooper, but not the Good Cooper, either — not yet. Many viewers have commonly come to refer to the real Cooper as Dougie, the name of his decoy constructed by Evil Cooper to help keep the doppelgänger from being forced to return to the Black Lodge. At this point, it’s clear he’s not Dougie, but it’s easier to refer to Cooper’s prolonged arrested development by the identity he’s been assigned and remains incapable of refuting.
Still, it’s more than an irksome shortcut; it’s a problem. If we just decided to call him Cooper that would be fine, but incorrectly calling him Dougie implies a temporary status, as in, “I know he’s not Dougie, but I’m just going to call him that until he snaps out of it.” “Dougie” has been largely mute, slow-moving, and unable to perform simple functions (like writing his name or taking himself to the bathroom). Many critics, including those who are into the new episodes and those who aren’t, have expressed frustration with “Dougie’s” ongoing presence. They want the real Cooper back. The Good Cooper.
Well, it’s been nine hours and “Dougie” is still here. He’s not snapping out of it. He may never snap out of it, but even if he does transition back to his old self next week, “Dougie” is the new version of Dale Cooper. He’s not Evil Cooper, who’s roaming through South Dakota. He’s not Good Cooper, either; he’s not the guy we remember from Season 1 who was so full of pep it was like he was on a constant caffeine high. (Wait a minute…) This “Dougie,” nay, New Cooper is the man we’ve spent half the season watching, and he’s going to be a major part of what we remember about “The Return.”
When the season began, New Cooper was reaching the end of an experience that profoundly changed him. Sitting in the Black Lodge for 25 years will do that to a guy, just like waiting 26 years for “Twin Peaks” to come back means we should expect a change in the series itself. It’s a New Cooper for a new “Twin Peaks,” and neither is going to go back to “normal” — not entirely.
All this is to say you know who you are: “The Return,” unlike the original season, isn’t trying to appease traditional TV fans or cater to expectations associated with the medium. It’s here to blow the walls off the set and make you appreciate Lynch’s vision as an indefinable art form. If that’s not for you, now’s the time to hop off.
Tomorrow, Part II in our midseason report: The Ratings and How They Define the Future
IndieWire’s Episode Reviews: Parts 1 – 9:
Parts 1 & 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
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