Twin Peaks

What a fascinating case of mass self-delusion this has been. It's truly amazing and disgusting how heavily people are stroking themselves over their ability to force themselves to choke down something that is so very poorly executed just so they can reach that oh so "clever" hidden story within.

Look, I know that it must be very comforting to keep talking down to people about how they just don't get the weirdness and complexity of it all (because WOW, use of metaphor and non-linear storytelling in the video medium? UNHEARD OF!), but that's really not the problem here. It's the absolutely abysmal pacing and structure. Yes people, we get it. Lynch likes to pull the same old thing out of his bag of tricks that he always has, where he tries to artificially induce unease by drawing scenes out well past their welcome, except instead of the handful of times spread out across a 2-3 hour movie we are now treated to 45/60 minutes of this filler in each episode of an 18 hour saga, leaving very little room for any actual worthwhile content. You don't need to be a mathematician to see that the ratio between the two is incredibly uneven.

But OK, yippee hooray for ARTISTIC INTEGRITY! He has such complete free rein to spew out completely unfettered streams of consciousness that no one at all will dare to tell him that maybe things like having a confused old woman talking to the police about who has the keys to a door for 10 straight minutes is an absolute waste of film, and none of you will dare admit that this pile of slop is in dire need of editing because you're too busy preening about what an artistic genius Lynch is, and how open-minded and avant-garde you are by extension for being able to wrap your heads around a plot that's literally been done a hundred times before in superhero comic books.

A big slow clap for you all.

I can't quite gather all my feelings and emotions and put them into words, but simply put: I have an emotional connection to Twin Peaks.

First things first - if you asked me, "What is art to you?" my answer would be Wajdi Mouawad or Peter Brook's plays, cinematic visions like Mulholland drive or 2001 : a space odyssey , Dostoevsky's novels, or Mozart's music. I would never mention a TV show.

Then came Twin Peaks: The Return - and now, I consider a series to be one of the finest pieces of art I've ever experienced, perhaps even surpassing many cinematic works. David Lynch reached the peak of creativity with this.

I started watching it nearly a year ago, and for me, Twin Peaks became a companion through my lonely days and nights. Every character felt like a family member over these months, and I'll never forget any of them.

Maybe it's the finale that shook me the most - it disturbed me in a way I wasn't prepared for. I felt confused, even a little lost. But that confusion is exactly what makes it so unforgettable. It's haunting because it refuses to give you closure. It forces you to sit with questions that don't have easy answers - questions about identity, time, reality, and whether we can ever truly go back to anything. The whole season slowly unravels into something deeply existential, and by the end, I realized Lynch never intended to comfort us. He never offers answers - he just holds up a mirror and dares us to look. That, to me, is what makes The Return so profound.

When I watched Twin Peaks: The Return, I felt like I was witnessing a director working at the absolute height of his creative freedom. David Lynch didn't just make a sequel - he made a statement. This wasn't about fan service or wrapping things up neatly. It was about transforming the medium itself, about what television could be if it weren't bound by convention. I genuinely believe there's no other show like it. The Return is something closer to a moving painting, or maybe a dream you keep having but can never fully understand.

What makes Lynch's directing style so brilliant - and so frustrating to some - is that he embraces ambiguity. He isn't concerned with clarity. He chooses to focus on mood, texture, and raw emotion. There's a confidence in the way he holds on a shot just long enough to make you uncomfortable, or lets silence fill a room until it becomes its own character. He doesn't spoon-feed you anything. And somehow, it works.

Visually, The Return is stunning. He uses darkness like no one else. Shadows dominate scenes - both literally and metaphorically. And when there is light, it's often cold and surreal, or violently artificial, like the flickering neon in the Bang Bang Bar. His framing is deliberate, almost painterly, with so much attention given to the awkwardness of space and distance between people. It all adds to the unease. Even the digital cinematography, which some might find jarring at first, feels like a deliberate choice - a way to show the world through a warped lens, to blur reality with fiction.

Narratively, The Return is a maze. Lynch completely subverts the idea of nostalgia or resolution. Instead of giving us Dale Cooper as we remember him, we get Dougie Jones - a hollow version of him for most of the season. And somehow, that absurd, frustrating choice becomes brilliant. It forces us to feel the weight of lost time, identity, and purpose. When Cooper finally returns, it's euphoric - but even that moment doesn't last. Lynch is constantly reminding us: "You will never go back to how things were."

The themes of Twin Peaks as a whole are so profound that I still don't think I've fully unpacked them. Identity, trauma, duality, the nature of evil, the illusion of time - it's all there. Laura Palmer isn't just a girl who was murdered. She becomes this symbol of suffering, of purity corrupted, and also of resistance. Lynch doesn't treat evil as something that can be easily explained or defeated. It's everywhere - in the woods, in our homes, in ourselves. And then there's Judy, or Jowday, this metaphysical force of pure malevolence that's never truly seen but always felt. You can't fight it head-on. You can't even fully understand it.

And then there are the absurd fan theories - which I love. Some people think Cooper is trapped in a time loop. Others say Laura is actually the dreamer, or that the whole thing is playing out in some alternate dimension within her mind. There's the idea that The Return is a meditation on art itself - Lynch literally creating a world and then trying to save his own creation. And of course, Monica Bellucci's dream - "We are like the dreamer who dreams, and then lives inside the dream" - is maybe the most cryptic, and most revealing, line in the entire show. That moment hit me hard. It felt like Lynch wasn't just telling a story - he was questioning the very act of storytelling.

What makes Twin Peaks: The Return a masterpiece in my eyes isn't just the complexity or the visuals or even the sound design (which is incredible). It's the feeling that David Lynch is operating on a frequency most people can't hear. He's not trying to impress anyone. He's just being, expressing something deeply personal, something raw and often uncomfortable. It's not always fun. It's not always entertaining. But it's honest. And in a world full of media that's trying so hard to be palatable, Lynch's work feels like a scream in the void - haunting, beautiful, and impossible to forget.

A quarter of a century after it ended, Twin Peaks gets a season 3. That in itself is part of the weirdness of Twin Peaks; it's not a reboot, or a remake, it's just ... season 3, picking up just where season 2 left off.

No one but David Lynch would do that.

I suspect whether you will love or hate this series return (and people seem to do one or the other) will depend on what you liked about the original Twin Peaks. If you liked the quirky soap opera aspect of things in plot threads like the lumber mill, well, this might not be for you. If, like me, your favorite scenes were the really weird ones like the hotel scene that began episode 2 and the amazing scene of the kid and the creamed corn, and if you didn't understand while people didn't appreciate the utter brilliance of Fire Walk With Me, then you'll probably like this.

The series begins with the weirdness turned up to ten and the eventfulness turned down to zero, as though Lynch is saying, yes, I made Twin Peaks, but don't forget I'm also the guy who did Inland Empire.

After a while the Inland Empire aspects thankfully become fewer and there is more of the quirky humor of the original series (as in a scene with cops try to track down a key to an apartment), actual story and character, and Lynch's typical approach of painting a placid surface and then showing the rot underneath. And some of the old elements of the series, like a weirdly ageless Kimmy Robertson as Lucy and Lynch as Gordon Cole, are every bit as fun and funny as they were in the original.

At times full Lynchian madness flares up, like the a-bomb test episode that thrilled some people and that annoyed others, like me. Other times, Lynch shocks everyone by actually offering detailed explanaions of some of the mysteries he has raised in the original series and Fire Walk with Me. At times Lynch seems to be saying, "here's a sensible answer to that thing you've been wondering about for years, but before you get too happy here's another unexplained weird thing to replace that."

I wasn't as fanatic about Twin Peaks as some people. I didn't find the pilot especially interesting until funny, eccentric Dale Cooper appeared, and without Kyle MacClachlan I probably never would have watched the second episode. I didn't fully love the series until the incredible weirdness of the second season, and that love didn't last long since the show quickly spiraled into a disastrous mess.

That may be why I enjoy this third season and Fire Walk With Me; they represent David Lynch giving me the aspects of the series I love without all the boring soap stuff.

Some of Twin Peaks is hugely annoying, other parts are utterly fascinating. Overall, I found it very entertaining, and if it's not everything I want (after 4 episodes I rated this 9 stars, but at season's end dropped it to 8), well, that's David Lynch.

One final note. I've seen several reviews saying that the only people who like this series are "hipsters." This is the silliest critique I've ever seen. I'll admit I don't know much about hipsters except they wear funny mustaches and churn their own butter, but my guess is hipsters are not all people who like to watch a revival of a series they don't remember starring a bunch of people old enough to be their parents. Just a guess.

No, you silly 1-star reviewers, I'm not a hipster, and I'm not, as some have suggested, a "paid reviewer" (although if someone can tell me how to make money by writing IMDb reviews please do so). I'm just someone who likes David Lynch when he's very weird but not tediously, incomprehensibly so. And that's what, for the most part, Twin Peaks the Return gives its audience.

When someone works hard at something or does something for a long time you can surmise that they well eventually get good at that thing, even masterful. Generally, this is the case for all great directors and David Lynch is no exception. With the newest Lynch-piece we are given something that is an amalgamation of all his previous work without sacrificing his style or creativity. We see the dark-industrial vibe of "Eraserhead", the American suburbia and the dark underbelly late-night bars/clubs/people from "Blue Velvet", "Wild At Heart", and "Twin Peaks", the winding roads and nightmarish features from nearly all his projects specifically "Lost Highway" and "Mulholland Drive", and then last but not least, we see the venture into the digital age with non-linear story and the craziest sound design you may possibly experience in any piece of media that we get from "Inland Empire". There are even remnants of design that hearken back to his old shorts.

This folks, is Lynch's swan song. The Return is already like nothing else ever before on TV and this includes the original two seasons of Twin Peaks.

Lynch allows the material to breathe, and gives the viewer plenty of time to absorb what's on screen. The filming is patient, and every shot is most definitely taken with care. The slow yearning shots is what Lynch uses to draw you in. The unfamiliarity of new faces leaves you with more questions than before. Also, as most already knew going in, The Return is set in many different locations--not just that charming, wholesome town of Twin Peaks. Even knowing Lynch's filmography there are moments that still have me unprepared for the amount of visuals and sounds that evoke nightmares. More terrifying than 90% of what I've seen as a film-goer.

I have to admit that it is taking me some time to adjust to the new vibe of the series knowing well in advance that Lynch and Frost have stated that The Return will be more like the prequel movie FWWM. I am someone who prefers the film to the series because Lynch had more room to work toward his vision. The result is a surrealist nightmare that The Return will have beat by a landslide. With that said, there will be many of you who will not like this at all (even folks who enjoyed the original series because The Return is THAT different). Lynch is certainly an acquired taste and everything isn't for everybody, but for those of you who are willing to give it a shot and appreciate an artist in his top form then maybe there is still some redeeming qualities in this for you. The Return is no run-of-the-mill action series or soap opera so be ready for one of the craziest rides you may ever be on.

Upon first viewing I absolutely hated this show. It wasn't the Twin Peaks I had been excited for, having watched the original series many times over, and I saw few, if any, redeming qualities.

After a rewatch nearly five years later, I had a different mindset in place and made sure to take proper note of clues and plotlines. While I could see more interesting aspects of the "return" this time around, I still cannot possibly give it a positive review.

Sure, there's enough subtext and complexity here for a college course, and there is obviously a high level of craftmanship behind the production, as well as a very pronounced vision guiding everything. But--and I concede that this is of course opinion--that vision clouds the entire show, prohibiting any attempt at a compelling narrative and snuffing out a lot of potentially enjoyable dialogue and acting.

There is a lack of control over the tone, with scenes and performances that stick out like a sore thumb here and there in most every episode, including both completely unfunny lines and unmotivated tugs at your heartstrings. There's artwork and effects work that simply looks awful, probably with a most intentional style but that simply doesn't hold up at the viewers' end. And, as many point out, there is a huge problem in terms of pacing and payoff. Those who are somehow drawn in enough by the mystery playing out appear to ignore this, and I wish I could too!

There seems to be a love-it-or-hate-it thing going on with this show. I would have liked to see more nuanced thoughts than just "David Lynch is a genious, 10/10" or "wtf 1/10". In my opinion, this is a flawed production of a misguided vision in terms of both storytelling and style, but there is enough to the mystery to warrant an attempt at watching. If it didn't waste so much time lost in its own head, it could have been significantly improved.