Recently, visionary filmmaker and general artistic genius David Lynch made the bold claim to his belief that cable television is the new arthouse. This statement rings particularly notable when one considers that Lynch himself played a pivotal role in the development of television from merely being the realm of mindless comedies and predictable procedurals, and while his greatest contributions to the artistic world have undoubtedly been in cinema, his forays into television have been nothing less than notable, and perhaps his greatest achievement is Twin Peaks, the television show he developed alongside Mark Frost, and the very first television show that I have ever reviewed in such a way. There are a number of reasons for my decision to break with tradition and review a television show, the first being that Twin Peaks is not exactly a television show or at least a conventional one at that. Like many people, I consider this show to be one continuous entity and considering the show followed the same loose story throughout its twenty-nine episodes, it only makes sense to look at it as something singular. The second reason is that as one of the most fervent admirers of Lynch, it would not make sense to review his more conventional works and leave out arguably his greatest achievement, and even if he only directly helmed a small handful of episodes of this show, his influence lingers throughout, and while it would be cannier to consider Twin Peaks the brainchild of a beautiful collaboration between Lynch and Frost, we can see some of the most tremendous work from Lynch trickling down throughout this show, with his own episodes being amongst the most impressive work of his career. The third reason for reviewing a television show is quite simple: why not? Twin Peaks was a fascinating, alluring and fascinating television show, something that was inherently cinematic, and carrying a tremendous amount of meaning. In the end, I have quite a bit to say about Twin Peaks, and instead of just keeping it to myself, I’ll defy my own self-imposed restrictions and just articulate my thoughts in what will undoubtedly be one of the most difficult reviews of my career, but more on that further on.

(Just a brief side-note: this review will strictly cover the original two seasons of the show, which aired from 1990 to 1991, and for ease of convenience, and to abide by the idea that this was a single entity, I have chosen to categorize it as a single 1990 film. This review will also be entirely separate from the other Twin Peaks projects – the film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me and the rebooted Twin Peaks: The Return, as well as the multitudes of books and other media created around the show, are not considered here, but will most certainly be subjects of their own individual reviews eventually). The prospect of writing a review of Twin Peaks is simultaneously terrifying as it is exciting, and while this review will undoubtedly not be able to fully discuss everything that this show attempts to say (because not only is this a television show, it is also a television show created by David Lynch, and it is scientifically impossible to be able to give a thorough, complete analysis of anything by Lynch). However, we will endeavour to explore this extraordinary piece of work to the best of our abilities, because something as iconoclastic and idiosyncratic as Twin Peaks cannot be ignored or neglected.

There is an inherent difficulty with reviewing Twin Peaks, because I am normally used to reviewing films of normal feature length, whereas Twin Peaks roughly equates to twenty-three hours of filmmaking, and thus there are many details, storylines and concepts that are present here (assisted by the serialized nature of the show), which would otherwise be entirely neglected by an attempt to fit everything into a single feature-length film (and the idea of Twin Peaks as a film is almost inconceivable, but it could have been possible, but with extremely diminished effect). Therefore, while attempting to find a direction that this review can take, whereby I can articulate the complex thoughts I have on this film can be made without losing my way and rambling on, we’ll start in a very conventional way: with a brief outline of the story. The basic concept of Twin Peaks is almost folkloric, as it is widely-known, even by those who have yet to see the television show. Twin Peaks is a small logging town in the state of Washington. The tranquil nature of the town is disrupted by the discovery of a dead body, belonging to a local young woman, Laura Palmer. As a response to this shocking discovery, FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper is dispatched to investigate the murder, and what seemed to be a straightforward case of tragic homicide is revealed to be much more than that, as Cooper realizes that this peaceful town hides many secrets, and there is a sinister presence of malevolent evil shrouding the town. Over the course of his stay in Twin Peaks, Agent Cooper comes to realize the supernatural elements that haunt the town, which prove to test him, both as a law enforcement officer and as a human being. Many other small stories are woven throughout this show, creating a rich and varied tapestry of storylines that contribute to some grander narrative, of which the central mystery of the death of Laura Palmer is only one pivotal element.

Perhaps the best way to approach this review is to look at Twin Peaks in terms of what it actually is, a mosaic of storylines and genres, composed of several parts that work together or in opposition to create the complex, nuanced and cerebral experience that the audience undertakes when venturing into this mesmerizing, hypnotic world. More than anything else, Twin Peaks is composed of four very different “threads”, all of which are used to sew together the central fabric that makes up Twin Peaks. Unfortunately, unlike a film, the television format of the show means that some of these threads are inferior to others, and therefore some storylines work far better in isolation than they do with others. The main thematic components of Twin Peaks are as follows: the central theme, which is the murder mystery, which is directly aided by the supernatural elements that imbue this show with a strong sense of horror. This is followed by soap opera conventions, whereby brutal betrayals and romantic desires are heavily present in the lives of all of these characters. The final theme is the one that ties the entire television show together and serves to be my favourite aspect of Twin Peaks – as a darkly comedic, often extremely heartfelt portrayal of small-town life and the mentalities that exist within. I will be considering each of these individually because even if the show itself may be the result of collaborations with many different individuals behind the camera, which leads to some questionable moments throughout the show, these central themes persist throughout, and are what holds the show together and make it consistently great. Thereafter, we’ll talk about the performances (a prospect that daunts me endlessly, for reasons I will explain at the time).

Very simply, Twin Peaks is a television show centred around a murder and the social and judicial responses to that murder. It is essentially a classic whodunnit mystery (and as was pointed out to me, the resolution of the central mystery was a direct homage to Agatha Christie), and much of this show is driven by the aftermath of the death of Laura Palmer. Roughly half of the series is dedicated to investigating her murder, whereas the remnants may drift away somewhat from focusing on that particular story, but rather examining the effects of the incident on the town and its residents. Twin Peaks is not only a murder mystery (as we will see in further discussions below), and to categorize it as such is a tad reductive. However, we should not neglect the fact that even on a purely surface-level gaze, Twin Peaks is effective, because there are very few television shows, long-form or episodic, that is as captivating as this. The audience becomes solely invested in the storyline, and we accompany Dale Cooper and the Twin Peaks law enforcement department as they investigate the horrendous crime, and there is a rare sense of total, relentless investment in this story on the part of the audience. We are not merely spectators – we are fully participant in the solving of the crime, and thus we are taken on the same metaphysical journey as our protagonists. This show may find its true success in other facets, but we should not neglect the fact that the spark that set off this incredible show, the storyline that jumpstarted it, was extremely effective and entirely satisfying, and while there are a panoply of other themes present throughout, the core of this story satisfies our very human desire to find answers, and while the resolution to this show may not be the most particularly pleasant, one cannot deny the sheer power the mystery itself has over the audience.

Intrinsically related to the murder mystery is the sense of the supernatural. David Lynch has never been one to avoid shocking imagery or storylines that cause sleepless nights, but he and Frost may have outdone themselves with Twin Peaks. While not entirely dependent on the supernatural (in the same way as its contemporaries such as The X-Files were), there is a strong sense of something being amiss, and as Agent Cooper becomes more integrated into the town, the more he starts to notice the otherworldly undercurrents that pulsate throughout this small and quaint town. The ways in which Twin Peaks oscillates between the mere suggestion or outright display is masterful, and there are moments of lingering dread, as well as sequences of sheer terror that would leave even the hardiest of viewers utterly shaken. From the first sinister moment of this show to the horrifying conclusion, the viewer is taken on a relentlessly shocking journey, one that is brutal in execution and perhaps the most unsettling work Lynch has ever done. Many other films and television shows have tried to replicate the same success as Twin Peaks, blending the mundane with the supernatural, but nearly all of them lack the key element that Twin Peaks thrived on – the ability to create tension through suggestion in one moment, and then be a cacophony of dread and extreme horror in another. It finds the most serendipitous balance between the two, and the result is something truly extraordinary. In a way, the central mystery and the overt horror are closely linked, and the one thrives with the assistance of the other.

I did not want to write about the romantic subplots in Twin Peaks. There is a reason I refuse to watch daytime television, mainly because of the incessant, ridiculous and unnecessarily bad romantic storylines that are as artificial as they are cliched. Twin Peaks, for all of its glowing merits, is ludicrously bad when it comes to romance. I learned two lessons while watching this show – never assume a character is actually dead unless you see their body, and do not expect any character to not be in love with another character. These soap opera conventions that run throughout this show are unnecessary and useless, and the only flaw that exists throughout this otherwise remarkable achievement. The question remains, what is the point of mentioning this romantic subplot if I clearly did not want to write about it? Firstly, its an opportunity to air my frustrations, and secondly, an enormous portion of this show (roughly a quarter of it, if not more) is driven by the effects of some romantic subplot. Yet, for all of its flaws and the fact that it took up valuable time in exploring a romantic storyline that could’ve easily been ignored, there was a purpose: so much of Twin Peaks is driven by one grand concept (perhaps the meta-narrative I alluded to earlier): love. Love in its various incarnations persists throughout Twin Peaks, being the moral compass for many characters. This isn’t necessarily romantic love, but also friendship and companionship, and the bonds we form with other people, especially after a tragic event. There is an overt sense of Eastern philosophy present throughout the course of the show, with many direct references to Buddhist teachings, and the central tenets of peace, compassion and love run strongly through the show, even in the presence of bleak, horrifying concepts that challenge the concept of love. Yet, the fact that the audience had to endure a multiple episode-long arc involving perhaps the most expendable character from the show and his exploits outside the two is almost unforgivable (emphasis on almost, because for every fault, Twin Peaks outnumbers it in merits).

A murder investigation, horrifying supernatural elements and even more terrifying romantic storylines all converge into one single theme that informs the show as a whole, and as mentioned previously, this was the theme that I adored the most about Twin Peaks – the exploration of small-town lives, and the trials and tribulations of the residents of an obscure hamlet that are struck by tragedy. David Lynch is a filmmaker that has always found a way to be absurdly entertaining in many of his films, finding the darkly humorous side to every situation, most notably in projects such as Blue Velvet and Wild at Heart, films that were both fascinatingly surreal and outrageously comedic in some instances. Beyond its captivating crime storyline, or the terrifying flirtations with the supernatural, or the soap opera conventions that threaten to ruin the show, there is a delightful and endearing representation of small-town life. Diversions into unrelated storylines are truly what left the most indelible impact on me as a viewer and ranging from unsettlingly sardonic to endearingly adorable, the examinations of the residents were truly what sets Twin Peaks apart from any other television show. It is a show that may be reliant on terror, but it is never enveloped by it, and rather balances out the terror with genuinely lovely explorations of the town itself and the quirky, eccentric residents who exist within, and this is what allows Twin Peaks to flourish extraordinarily. There is a powerful warmth that resonates off this show, and the balance between the sacred and the profane is extraordinary.

I am reluctant to talk about the performances in Twin Peaks, which is certainly uncharacteristic of my reviews, whereby I normally relish in the opportunity to look at the performances conveyed by the cast. The problem with Twin Peaks is that it is simply brimming with talent in every direction, and to mention one performance will mean leaving out another. Over two dozen regular characters come and go throughout the course of the story, and nearly all of them are tremendous, and I found great performances coming from some of the most unexpected places. Kyle Maclachlan leads this show as Special Agent Dale Cooper, and he is the true embodiment of a great leading performance – charismatic, endearing and equal parts goofy and adorable as he is serious and competent at his pursuit of the truth (both professionally and personally). The show is centred around Cooper, and his leading performance is truly incredible. Michael Ontkean (who is consistent as the gentle but firm Sheriff Harry S. Truman, only failing in his attempts at anger), Harry Goaz (playing one of the most lovable characters television has ever seen) and Michael Horse are all terrific as the protagonists of the story. I could continue to ramble off name after name, with everyone (even those that were not particularly great) giving memorable performances that were pivotal to the story. Standouts in this extensive cast include Lynch regular Jack Nance (who steals every scene he is in), teen icons Russ Tamblyn and Richard Beymer (both of which give impressive performances), newcomers Sherilynn Fenn and Dana Ashbrook (two of the only youthful characters that are not excessively awful, with the exception of Sheryl Lee in a dimished performance) and Lynch himself (who once again proves what an astonishing actor he is in addition to being an artistic genius of celestial proportions), as well as the likes of Ray Wise, Everett McGill, Peggy Lipton, Don Davis and countless others. It feels strange to not detail exactly what makes each of these performances so astounding, but to analyse them individually is an impossible task – Twin Peaks is one of the few television shows that has an enormous cast and knows precisely how to utilize every member of the ensemble in a way that is entirely memorable. Twin Peaks has a terrific story, and it captivates the audience through sheer audacity alone, but it is the cast, composed of veterans and newcomers alike, that makes the show worth watching.

Here is the question I want to ask: what makes Twin Peaks different from any other show? What precisely is it about this particular television show that drove me to break tradition and review it? It extends far beyond the involvement of David Lynch, and I suspect what drew me (and many others) to this show was how sheerly cinematic it is. There are some clear influences drawn from innumerable sources (such as Kill Baby Kill, a film I was not particularly fond of, except for one sequence in particular that I adored, and to my great delight was replicated somewhat in the final episode), as well as a strong technical prowess, with production values that exceeded that of any other show, not only in terms of budget, but also in terms of using a cinematic mentality in the making of the show, with innovative cinematography, unique editing and some of the most endearingly hideous CGI I have ever seen. The storyline of Twin Peaks may be strong, and the performances are terrific, but what lingers on the mind of the viewer is undoubtedly the imagery, sometimes exceedingly beautiful, often extracted directly from the most terrifying and warped nightmares. Who can forget the stark blend of colours between the real world and the supernatural? Or the way in which suggestion was buttressed by lingering dread in regards to visual cues, such as BOB’s first horrifying appearance? Very few television shows put this much effort into the small minutiae of production, but Twin Peaks is astonishing in this regard.

So, when all is said and done, I feel like there is an endless amount that can be said about Twin Peaks. It is a complex and fascinating world, and David Lynch and Mark Frost created something extraordinary here. If this review seems paltry or not worthy of the towering achievement that is Twin Peaks, just note that anything by David Lynch is inherently difficult to write about, and it’s more about the experience. However, in spite of that, Twin Peaks has spawned (as we all now) a feature-length film and a rebooted television show, so I am confident that I’ll be able to develop many of these ideas in the reviews for those projects. Twin Peaks is an astonishing achievement, with a truly tremendous story composed of different genres and conventions, some of which work better than others. The performances are incredible and the production values put into this show was otherworldly. As a whole, Twin Peaks was fascinating, complex and utterly thrilling, a hypnotic adventure into the hidden nuances of small-town society, and the interactions between the natural and the supernatural was something to behold. What was achieved with this show was unlike anything done before, and Lynch and Frost deserve every bit of acclaim for what they accomplished here. I simply cannot wait to see what’s next in store for the quaint and sinister little town of Twin Peaks, and judging on what we have seen here, it will doubtlessly be nothing less than extraordinary.