10 Things We Learned From Twin Peaks: The Return Part 6
3. A General Note On Quality
"Anemic platitudes," is how one commenter described these articles.
In a way, it's hard not to see their point. Twin Peaks: The Return invites such lavish critique because it is almost uniformly brilliant. It is a sensory smorgasbord, a complex numerological and narrative puzzle, a sprawling mass of mystery that visually links coffee cups to insurance documents to chevron-patterned floors of brain-melting netherworlds. This isn't a mere masterwork from the world's preeminent visual artist. There seems to be meaning in every choice of prop.
Kyle Maclachlan's performance demands this sort of enthusiasm because there is not one emotion the man hasn't yet evoked. We are not even halfway through the series.
The narrative continues to lurch at a lethargic pace, which has the effect of hypnotising the viewer - it is its own eternally spinning coin, subverting expectations at literally every turn. Last week, it was thought Doris Truman's introduction was a genre staple of a more regressive time. This week, her affectations were revealed as a coping mechanism for one of the most unimaginable of tragedies. Candy Clark has been re-contextualised from shrew to figure of heart-wrenching sympathy. Even when it's bad, it seems The Return will eventually come good.
Criticisms of this new Twin Peaks as some bloated, arbitrary mishmash of unrelated scenes are dispelled when one considers that this revelation occurred on the same episode in which another young life is cruelly taken. Thematic echoes are everywhere. If this all comes together as beautifully as the individual components are being constructed, this might be the greatest television show ever made.
There's a platitude for you.