Kyle MacLachlan is interested in bringing back Twin Peaks as five-minute webisodes. These would, as has been reported, not involve original co-creator/brilliant-though-certified wackadoo David Lynch, who is busy meditating and creating music. But the other brilliant mind behind it, Mark Frost, has to be out there somewhere. MacLachlan knows it’s a “crazy idea” but he wants to do it.
I love it, and I want it. When can this happen? Can it happen tomorrow? No? Then when?
There will be people who scoff at this idea, Peaks purists who carry logs at conventions and speak of the apocalypse in some backwards language. You know who you are. And then there will be the entire disinterested generation who came of TV age in the 18 years since the show burned so brightly and went off the air after one great season, a disappointing second season and a fine cult follow-up film.
To the latter group I say: Imagine if, 20 years from now, Matthew Fox decided he wanted to resurrect Lost—a show that, I assure you, will have a relentlessly unsatisfying ending—in a series of five-minute telepathically transported menti-sodes (oh, you wait). Tell me you wouldn’t want another fix after so long.
To the former group I say a very simple, “C’mon; c’mon already. Please.”
I want that shot of Peaks, the weirdest, funniest, warpiest, scariest of shows, all in one. Here are my five reasons why this is a damn fine idea.
1. The Lost Generation needs to know. This happens all the time: Great shows from one era are hardly viewed by those darn kids from the next era—unless, of course, they star Betty White and Bea Arthur. It’s kinda like music: Play something “so totally rad” from the 1980s for the kids—Devo, for instance—and you get flogged. But Peaks is, on the one hand, one of TV’s most engrossing dramas, and a loopy soap opera that is almost too frightening to laugh at. And this kind of loopy is timeless. If anything, it now feels even more ahead of its time than it did then. Plus, who wouldn’t want to hear Angelo Badalamenti’s theme song again?
Twin Peaks opening theme
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2lkvrMa27c[/embed]
2. In a word, “BOB.” Norman Bates. The Jigsaw Killer. The hitchhiker in that creepy Twilight Zone episode. Joan Rivers. Oh, they’re scary. But I have never seen anything more frightening than Bob.
Bob was a completely accidental character on the show. Lynch thought the actor, Frank Silva, who was a Peaks set decorator, might be good as an extra somewhere; when Silva was unintentionally seen in the mirror in one scene, Lynch turned him into, of all things, “A demon character who feeds on human fear, suffering and pain.” (Nice line on a resume.) Trust me: If CBS ever did ‘Survivor: Hades,’ Bob would win. Everyone deserves to see this character again, though sadly, that can only happen in flashback: Silva passed away in 1995 at 45 due to complications from AIDS. It’s a real loss, and MacLachlan could remind us of how scary scary can be.
3. Any number of catch phrases. Twin Peaks was full of them, each more bizarre than the one before. How many different ways could you describe a fine cup of coffee and a tasty slice of pie? “This must be where pies go when they die” does it for me. In each five-minute segment, certainly MacLachlan—and his writers—will come up with new ones.
Damn fine clip, with Audrey Horne:
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2qFQcgogCw[/embed]
4. The mysterious characters. There are so many for MacLachlan to choose from. Sultry young bad girl Audrey Horne. Straight and true Sheriff Harry S. Truman. Norma over at the Double R Diner. And all those great 50s high school character names: Bobby, James, Donna. Shady Jocelyn Packard. The reliable Big Ed Hurley. The Man From Another Place. Wealthy Benjamin Horne and his squirrely brother Jerry. And the dead star of our drama, the beautiful Laura Palmer. Plus her mom. Oh yes: and her dad, played by the great Ray Wise. Don’t forget him.
5. Coop: The man himself. MacLachlan can literally just drive down the road as Agent Cooper in his five-minute webisodes, taping messages to his FBI assistant Diane, and I’d be plenty pleased. He could eat donuts for five minutes and I’d actually be riveted. But there’d be much more to this, if MacLachlan gets the chance. He wouldn’t ruin the legacy of a great show. And he also wouldn’t reboot it the way the new Star Trek movie succeeded. It would just be a nice, inviting curio, once again opening up a strange little Washington State town where absolutely nothing is as it seems. It’s a strange brew indeed, and I’d welcome another portion, no matter the size.
Am I alone here? Please tell me I’m not alone. Weigh in, folks. I’ve got good news: The show you like may be coming back in style.
