When David Lynch’s alternative and surreal soap opera twist, Twin Peaks hit the small screen in 1992, I was glued to the show like millions of others. I couldn’t take my eyes off the television or get my mind away from the many mysteries that took residence in the bizarro town, as well as the lines that would become catch phrases (only Joss Whedon’s Buffy surpassed Lynch in that category). Twin Peaks worked because it was far removed from the typical mundane television formula: The story was vibrant and multifaceted, the acting superior, and Angelo Badalamenti’s music burrowed deep within one’s soul. Plus, it showcased the most screwed up and demented high school students on the planet.
Granted, the first season proved to be brilliant, and except for the final two episodes of the second and final season, those shows were an embarrassment and became a parody of Lynch’s vision, as well as co-creator and co-writer Mark Frost. After the show’s demise, Lynch brought a pre-quell to the world that allowed Sheryl Lee to star instead of being “wrapped in plastic.” Although he cut a tremendous amount of footage to get the film into theatres, many audience members hated the movie. I remember stepping into a venue and enjoying the film with thirty people – or so I thought. Before the film ended, only three of us remained.
This Must Be Where Pies Go When They Die
In early March, I drove to North Bend, Washington where Twin Peaks had been filmed. Just forty minutes from Seattle, the town was small, welcoming, and not weird at all.
Pulling into town on a somewhat cold and flurry kind of day, the first thing to come into view was Twede’s Café, known to the world as the Double R Diner in Twin Peaks. During filming, it was actually the Mar-T Diner until it changed hands. The place had a cool feel, though it was far more cramped than the interior reproduced for the show on a sound stage. Hell, in the real place Sherilynn Fenn wouldn’t have room to dance two steps. Then again, the actual diner had burned to the ground in 2000. The new diner was remade in the original style with that giant U-shaped counter in its center. Although I never saw a juke box, I felt like a goober for sitting in a booth and ordering a “damn good cup of coffee” and a slice of cherry pie. The wait staff had heard it all before and didn’t even flinch. The cherry pie proved to be amazing, but Dale Cooper’s coffee wasn’t as damn good as I had hoped.
A Place Both Wonderful and Strange
As for the sawmill, well, you can’t get near it – unless you want to climb a high fence and get arrested for trespassing. Then again, the abandoned brick edifice is all a bit “crumbly.” Thankfully, I had a telephoto and got some pictures though getting inside would have been cool. To do that, I’d have to find a way down onto an active dirt race track and hope my camera survived the dust and dirt that swirled about as if sawdust from the mill. I had to pass.
From where I stood to take the shots, all I had to do was spin around to take pictures of the sheriff’s office – the headquarters for the racing school. It’s here that I didn’t meet one of the Bookhouse Boys, but a kind soul who had moved to North Bend long ago because of Twin Peaks. She had been on set for the upcoming season, and like an actress from the series I had met in Seattle, she was kind but wouldn’t say anything about the resurrected show. I didn’t want to know anyway, but both women, as well as all cast and crew members, had to sign an agreement that if they leaked a word, a picture, or anything, they’d be slapped with a one-million dollar fine. Beyond the secrecy, both women didn’t want to disappoint David Lynch by saying something out of turn.
The mill and station were far removed from town, and thanks to a map of shooting locations from the tourist guide, I drove up a few miles to check out the Twin Peaks sign, which as expected, wasn’t there.
When You See Me Again, It Won’t Be Me
The high school entrance that had welcomed Laura, James, Audrey, Donna and company proved to be inaccessible thanks to a ton of construction equipment and high fences. Even with the television history and the tourist attraction angle, the façade is being refaced and will no longer look the same.
Fire Walk with Me
Leland Palmer uttered the “Fire walk with me” line from his poem during Twin Peaks’ first season. To introduce the film of the same name, Sheryl Lee, Wendy Robie, and Gary Hershberger took the stage in the theatre at the Seattle Art Museum, not far from the famous Space Needle and Public Market.
The trio took questions from the audience, and most were devoted to working with David Lynch – all positive responses, of course, even if the actors weren’t sure of what he had planned for their characters. When Hershberger went to Lynch and asked why bandages were packed so high on his head, and why he was coming on to Nadine (Robie), Lynch just leaned in and said, “Play it intimate.”
Even with all the mystery, the actors trusted Lynch and his vision, and like the audience, they went along for the ride.
Nobody Loved Laura But Us
The new series of Twin Peaks will be something special and bizarre, of course. How can Sheryl Lee reprise her role of Laura Palmer again when she’s long dead as well as Ray Wise? Who the hell knows what’s in store for us, but with Mark Frost and David Lynch in the driver’s seat for all eighteen episodes, it’s bound to be a trip.
Who knows what would have happened if ABC had let Lynch and Frost not resolve the Laura Palmer murder, which led to the ill-fated collapse of season two. Even so, an unexpected limited series is on the way that will bring new magic to the small screen.
Regardless of ABC’s ultimate idiocy, and all the questions stemming from series’ end, many will wonder if we’re in the Black Lodge or White Lodge, but the Linoleum on the floor tells us we’re in the same damn place. Here the good of Cooper and company will use the energy from the lodge to battle the demons that plague the souls of Twin Peaks, and that evil will draw upon that same energy to destroy them. One can only wonder how Lynch and Frost plan on bringing this wild world to fruition with their own Twin Peaks logic. In all honesty, I hope that like most towns, they’ll just keep on keepin’ on. Hell, what’s life without a sense of mystery? So, grab a jelly donut, turn on the television to Showtime, and enjoy where Lynch and company take us. After all, it won’t be like anything we’ve seen on the small screen since 1992.
Billy Crash (aka William D. Prystauk) loves great in depth characters and storytelling in horror, and likes to see heads roll, but if you kill a dog on screen he’ll cry like a baby. Billy co-hosts THE LAST KNOCK horror podcast on iTunes, and can also be found on Twitter, LinkedIn, IMDb, Amazon, and his professional website.
(Photo of Kyle McLachlan from Birth.Movie.Death.)