Picks up 25 years after the inhabitants of a quaint northwestern town are stunned when their homecoming queen is murdered.
episode 17: ok maybe it all makes sense
episode 18: fuck off
me: :(
twin peaks:
* ☕️ . * . * . *
. * . . * * 🍩 . . *
* . * . 🚓 * . * . * . 🌲
🦉 . * . . * 🔥 * . * .
. 🏔 * . . * . * 🙍🏼♀️ .
me: :)
"Is it future or is it past?"
"We live inside a dream."
Spending an eternity trying to fix what was broken. But was there ever a time when it wasn’t broken? Where exactly are we now? Are we even the same people anymore? Genuinely think the final scene of this will haunt me forever.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Doesn’t get much darker than those last 5 minutes. I just wanna leave it there for now and go curl up in a ball.
/:
loved the part where david bowie was a giant steaming hunk of metal
TWIN PEAKS SEASON 4 PREDICTION: DAVID LYNCH IS GONNA COME OUT OF MY TV AND KILL ME.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
What makes Lynch so fascinating is that he’s a conservative whose aesthetic tendencies (unerring empathy for/centering of his female characters, a proclivity for exploring dysphoric relationships between persons and their bodies/bodies and the world, and an affinity for the cynical epistemology of the noir) constantly undermine his nostalgic and otherwise regressive gestures. Nowhere is that more apparent than in The Return, a colossal moral reckoning with the willful failure of each and every available institution (cultural/political/social) to reckon with trauma. Lynch’s disillusionment with post-millennial America reaches back through time to point the finger not so much at modernity itself but at specifically American iconography and mythology, an inherited cultural history which enshrines the moral purity of dead women and creates…
one of the greatest artistic accomplishments I’ve ever experienced. the final shot will haunt my memory from now until the day I die. words cannot explain this.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Was there another image that perfectly encapsulated the experience of living through 2017 than Charlene Yi dragging herself across a bar floor, slowly breaking down until she unleashes a primal scream that eventually fades into nothingness? Twin Peaks was less film or television, but moreso something born of alchemy. A tragedy written in a holy text that reshaped our conceptions of what cinema could be while circling back to the life of the girl whose death is where it all began. If Fire Walk With Me gave the cinematic dead girl a voice then the newest incarnation of Twin Peaks made her a deity. Despite all its grandiose moments, and there were many, Twin Peaks is the story of one…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
“Through the darkness of future past
The magician longs to see
One chance out between two worlds
Fire walk with me.”
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON’T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN “TWIN PEAKS: THE RETURN”
In the original run of Twin Peaks David Lynch and Mark Frost were never going to say who killed Laura Palmer. Only after pressure from executives at ABC did they reveal the murderer. Lynch called Laura Palmer’s death “the goose that laid the golden eggs” and when you look at the history of episodes that immediately happened after, it’s clear there’s no bullshit there. The ship was righted by the Season 2 finale and we were left with a cliffhanger that promised a…
It would take an entire monograph to be able to remotely tackle the vastness of this project. How it manages to filter the original through Lynch’s subsequent interest in TM and various Buddhist arcana. How it perpetuates Mulholland Drive’s half-prankish, half-generous doling out of “clues” that are as absurd as they are genuinely important. How it both parodies and adheres to the legacy of serialized mystery that the original show helped to pioneer by stringing out its narrative to the point that even its own characters can only say “Finally!” when things fall into place in the end stretch. How Lynch responds to the increasingly frantic, constant motion of our entertainment by holding compositions for agonizing stretches, demanding that we…
