The One-Armed Man

Another great installment, filled with classic moments to overcome a not that rounded episode. But a great, engaging one though. Funny, bizarre, interesting and intriguing.

In this episode and the next one, the number of conspiracies that have been revealed around the mill starts to get a little bit excessive, particularly around Benjamin Horne. Is there no character that he isn't double crossing? It all makes sense by the end of the show (if you don't think about it too hard), but looking back at it all, particularly in these early episodes, many of the plots and double crosses do seem far more elaborate than they needed to be. It brings to mind a quote from my favourite episode of Community, which I have put in the tag line of this review.

Aside from these conspiracies, the episode focuses mainly on the Laura Palmer investigation, which finally starts to pick up some steam. This leads to the first extended appearance of the one-armed man, and Cooper's stare down with a llama. Overall, the episode finds a good balance between the exciting new developments and strange details in the Palmer case, even if the plots and conspiracies do start getting a little out of hand.

"The One-Armed Man," the fifth episode of Twin Peaks' first season, directed by Tim Hunter and written by Robert Engels, stands as a crucial installment that deepens the series' intricate narrative and atmospheric complexity while paying homage to classic television and film noir traditions. This episode is often regarded as underrated, yet it skillfully balances character development, plot progression, and stylistic innovation, marking a distinctive moment in the show's evolution. The episode's title references the enigmatic figure of the one-armed man, Philip Michael Gerard (played by Al Strobel), whose presence is both a narrative pivot and a symbolic conduit, linking Twin Peaks to the legacy of The Fugitive and Lynch's fascination with the grotesque and mysterious.

The episode opens with a palpable sense of tension and foreboding, as Agent Dale Cooper, Sheriff Truman, Hawk, and Dr. Jacoby embark on a search through the woods for Jacques Renault's cabin, only to stumble upon Margaret Lanterman's (the Log Lady) home instead. This scene exemplifies the show's deft blending of the mundane and the uncanny, as Margaret's cryptic warnings about the owls and her log's visions introduce a mystical dimension to the investigation. The use of small, intimate sets and long depth-of-field shots, inspired by Otto Preminger's Fallen Angel, enhances the claustrophobic and eerie atmosphere, while the dialogue's staccato rhythm during the log's "testimony" adds a ritualistic, almost hypnotic quality.

Narratively, the episode advances several key plotlines. The parole hearing for Hank Jennings, a small-time criminal with a penchant for playing dominoes, is a masterclass in subtle storytelling, where the ordinary proceedings are imbued with unease by the recurring motif of the single domino, symbolizing the lurking threat beneath everyday appearances. This grounded, procedural element contrasts with the more surreal moments, such as the introduction of Gordon Cole (David Lynch himself), whose booming voice and eccentric mannerisms inject humor and a sense of meta-awareness into the series. Cole's arrival signals an expansion of the FBI's involvement and adds layers to the investigative framework.

The episode's climax, a reception at the Great Northern Hotel for a group of Icelandic guests, is a standout sequence that captures the show's unique tonal blend. The scene oscillates between lighthearted social interaction and simmering undercurrents of tension, with characters like Margaret and Catherine Martell maneuvering through personal and political intrigues. The use of a Dutch angle in the final shot-a directorial choice permitted only to Hunter-visually unsettles the viewer, hinting at the instability beneath the town's surface. This stylistic flourish underscores the episode's thematic preoccupation with duality and deception.

Performances throughout "The One-Armed Man" are uniformly compelling. Kyle MacLachlan's Cooper continues to be the emotional and narrative anchor, his calm, intuitive approach contrasting with the more volatile personalities around him. Al Strobel's portrayal of Philip Gerard is particularly noteworthy; Lynch's insistence on showing Gerard shirtless, despite network objections, humanizes the character and adds to his unsettling presence. Strobel's performance balances vulnerability and menace, embodying Lynch's fascination with the grotesque as a site of both fear and empathy. Sherilyn Fenn's Audrey Horne shines in scenes that reveal her manipulative charm and youthful rebellion, while Piper Laurie's Catherine Martell exudes a simmering, calculated intensity.

The episode's cinematography and editing contribute significantly to its impact. The use of split diopter lenses allows for simultaneous focus on characters at opposite ends of a frame, emphasizing the emotional and psychological distance between them. This technique is evident in scenes such as the tense exchanges between Audrey and Richard Beymer's Benjamin Horne, enhancing the narrative's layered complexity. The pacing is measured, allowing moments of quiet tension to build organically, though some viewers may find this deliberate rhythm challenging compared to more conventional procedural dramas.

Thematically, "The One-Armed Man" explores motifs of identity, deception, and the elusive nature of truth. The character of Philip Gerard/Mike serves as a liminal figure bridging the natural and supernatural realms, embodying the show's ongoing tension between reality and metaphysical mystery. The episode's homage to The Fugitive situates Twin Peaks within a broader televisual tradition, while simultaneously subverting expectations through Lynch's surrealist sensibilities. The motif of the domino, the cryptic messages from the log, and the interplay of light and shadow all reinforce the series' exploration of hidden meanings beneath the surface of everyday life.

Culturally, this episode exemplifies Twin Peaks' role in redefining television narrative and aesthetics in the early 1990s. By blending elements of noir, soap opera, supernatural thriller, and dark comedy, the series challenges genre conventions and invites viewers into a world where ambiguity and contradiction are central. The episode's political subtexts, including the power struggles within the town and the federal investigation's intrusion into local affairs, reflect broader anxieties about authority, community, and identity in late 20th-century America. Scholars have noted how the series, through episodes like this, critiques the myth of small-town innocence and exposes the fractures beneath.

Despite its many strengths, "The One-Armed Man" may test viewers' patience due to its episodic pacing and the layering of cryptic clues that resist immediate resolution. The episode demands active engagement and rewards attentive viewing, but its dense symbolism and tonal shifts can be alienating for those expecting straightforward narrative progression. Nonetheless, these qualities contribute to the series' enduring mystique and critical acclaim.

"The One-Armed Man" stands as a richly textured episode that encapsulates Twin Peaks' unique blend of mystery, character study, and surrealism. The episode's careful direction, atmospheric cinematography, and compelling performances coalesce to deepen the show's mythological and emotional resonance. By weaving together procedural investigation with symbolic imagery and complex character dynamics, it advances the narrative while expanding the series' thematic scope. This episode exemplifies how Twin Peaks transcends conventional television to become a profound meditation on the nature of truth, identity, and the shadows lurking beneath the surface of community life. It invites viewers to embrace ambiguity and reflect on the interplay between seen and unseen forces shaping human experience.

The girls get together to make plans and investigate what happened to Laura. I'm not sure what Audrey's intentions are, but I'm sure she's up to no good. Bobby finds out about the bloody shirt and he decides he will eliminate Leo. Leo has become a small time drug dealer but the results of his activities are getting a lot of attention. There is also the matter of testimony at a parole hearing and the implications of a return to society. Meanwhile, Cooper is made aware of a secret society that Harry Truman and the rest of the law enforcement guys are involved in. Off the wall and wonderful.

In the first season, each episode seems to be piling more and more crazy plot twists than the last, and, although this is actually more than halfway through this season, plenty of new characters are continuing to be introduced. There's the first appearance of Hank Jennings whose role has been overshadowed somewhat over time, but he was an essential character in both the latter half of the first season as well as some of the second. Philip Gerard was seen earlier in the Pilot, but only as a mere absurdist visual gag, and his doppelganger was shown in Cooper's cryptic dream in the second episode directed by Lynch, but his character wasn't properly introduced until this episode. All of the scenes with him are great, and I still feel a sense of investment whenever he's on screen, even if I already know, and have known for well over a year now, what eventually is to become of him.

There are also a few other important and iconic scenes scattered throughout the chapter, including light moments like a humorous and profound conversation about love between Cooper, Andy, Hawk, and Sheriff Truman and the classic, if incredibly brief comedic moment between Cooper and a llama, as well as darker moments such as Hank's pleas for a second chance that are soon disproven by a final moment that serves as a massive twist. Conspiracies and unexpected interrelationships plague this episode, making the viewer feel both intrigued and slightly worn out by the end of it. And on top of all this madness is the beginning of a whole new subplot surrounding the beautiful and charming Miss Audrey Horne who desperately attempts to solve the ongoing mystery of Laura Palmer's tragic murder with the hope of winning over Special Agent Dale Cooper. If only her plan had succeeded...