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You have zero to lose by fighting. One image appearing briefly in the glass box——a harbinger greeted, as it happens and has to happen, by no one——belongs to the man last seen as Cooper, trapped soul and body in the Black Lodge long story for the past twenty-five years.
There are no antiheroes, only heroes who stand to be ruined rather than fall.
A doctor on the original Twin Peaks, opining that Leland Palmer has been driven to kill by madness, triggered by grief, is stopped right there by Special Agent Cooper: The first we see of Twin Peaks in The Return is a lonesome clearing in the woods, and a red truck backing into a gravel driveway as smoothly as if it were shot in forward motion and reversed in post.
Doctor Jacoby Russ Tamblyn emerges at the door of a derelict trailer home and takes off a pair of shades to reveal another pair, one red lens, one blue, a joke about what—shadiness, layers, the third dimension? A joke about being Lynchian.
The driver lifts boxes from the truck, and from the boxes brings objects seen only as shapes, wrapped in plastic. Not a joke, a fact about being here. Outside the house, the men in orange hats worked overtime under temporary lights. Non ci sono complicazioni, non ci sono scuse e, come lui preferisce non diagnosticare dalla sedia del regista, non ci sono motivi di follia.
Il dottor Jacoby Russ Tamblyn emerge sulla porta di una rimessa abbandonata e toglie un paio di sfumature per rivelare un altro paio, una lente rossa, una blu, una barzelletta su cosa — sfumature, strati, la terza dimensione?
Il conducente alza le scatole dal camion e dalle scatole porta oggetti visti solo come forme, avvolti nella plastica. Chiede al dottore come sta.
Fuori dalla casa, gli uomini con i cappelli arancioni facevano gli straordinari sotto le luci temporanee.
Season 3, episode 4. To savor the thingness of words is to move away from their imprisoning nature. Now try it with human. He was a Swedish doctor and botanist who lived in the seventeenth century under the name Linnaeus, and he decided that Americans were Americanus red, choleric, uprightEuropeans were Europeaus white, sanguine, muscularAsians wereAsiaticus pale yellow, melancholic, stiffand Africans were Afer black, phlegmatic, relaxed. Four, the number of limbs, seasons, and elements, has remained the magic number of inter-human difference, as with the four major archetypes discovered by Carl Jung, and the four dichotomies, combining to make possible sixteen types, in the Myers-Briggs personality test.
Lynch would be, I think, a medium-rare type of person: The other day I bought in-ear headphones decorated with little skulls, and found that both headphones were marked R, requiring me to have two right ears. But in a dream, I would have thought nothing. What, for instance, do we think about the one pale horse who appeared to Sarah Palmer in Twin Peaks before Madeleine died, and who appears again as a figure in The Return, once in the Black Lodge and once in Las Vegas as the namesake of the Silver Mustang Casino?
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Pale people, we can say with more certainty, are not woke but dreaming. Hawk neither startles nor hesitates. A decade or two later, this would be an obvious joke. At the time it was perfect, part sincere. Lynch takes the stereotyped stoic American Indian and imbues his silences not with some mystic wisdom but with a down-to-earth amusement that befits a man burdened by history and tasked with protecting innocence in adults.
That views on whiteness from elsewhere are entirely determined by the actions, behaviors, and thoughts of white people themselves is a ludicrous, too-common assumption. Coulson, may she rest in pines.
Hawk looks at her slowly. Dougie Jones Kyle MacLachlan. The fourth hour of The Return, destined to be an all-time fan favorite, brings us the only child of Andy and Lucy. As Lucy tells it, Cooper wanted the son to be named Marlon Brando, after the legend whose love affair with the American Indian is never forgotten, and at birth the couple compromised and named him Wally, Wally Brando.
Boy, does he Michael Cera live up to that choice. Showing up unannounced on a motorcycle, clad in a punk-ass black leather jacket, a white-and-navy ringer tee, and an oversize army beret, Wally has transcended the decades to embody at least a quarter-century of boy-teen rebellion. He has roamed the country, he has a strong sense of dharma, and his idiolect is a very fine whine. Try not to laugh. Also, Wally informs his parents, in the deposed-royal manner of a fifth-generation middle-class American, that he will permit them to turn his childhood bedroom, which he has not seen in years, into a study.
Wally is right about Lewis and Clark, who were among the first white people to belong in the Kaw-kay-zee-uhn era. Unlike his more racist peers and successors, says Nell Irvin Painter in her empathetic, well-limned treatise The History of White PeopleBlumenbach did not assort humans by race or assign to the races differing, unequal abilities, intelligences, and virtues, unless you count beauty a virtue: Nevertheless, it was pure white entitlement.
I was thinking that the whiteness of Twin Peaks was something like a skull mask worn over the face, a skeleton worn over the body on Halloween. Had I spent much time as a teen getting oppressed on the basis of being white and bony, I would perhaps be offended.
As a woman of childbearing age and ability, I have been accused by my own youngest brother of being too ambitious, self-absorbed, and vain to further my race by becoming pregnant with another white fetus. For my people to die in vainness and sterility, aided by pills, would be appropriate, desirable, and not bad.
I welcome our fate. But before fate, nostalgia. Lynch, a shapeshifter who appears as a perfect square of a man, loves to pack and unpack the boxy, obsessive, even maniacal systems of classification for identity, and thus for derangement and storage for pride, and for loss that line the halls of the past, and to dwell on the backwardness that often now accompanies the nostalgic.
Special Agent Dale Cooper Kyle MacLachlanafter a long and stressful journey through consciousness, lands on earth in his body; his mind, and his shoes, are left on the plane.
Worse, there are more than two Coopers, for lack of a better term. One, the real bad one, Mr.
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C, has failed to show up for his scheduled return to the Black Lodge, and is alive in a prison cell. Sent in his place is another one, a licentious and chintzy-looking real-estate agent named Dougie Jones, whose mortal coil is compressed into a tiny golden nugget, leaving only a significant jade ring.
I can only suggest that, in the moment, MacLachlan has never looked more like the kind of Caucasian who needs a pocket calculator to tally his Scottish, Welsh, Irish, and Cornish heritage. Jade, another tolerant professional of color, emerges from her postwork shower to find that Dougie, prostrate on the carpet, has been replaced by Coop.
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Like the brother from another planet in the John Sayles film by that name, he has an unexplained power over things that plug into the wall, and simply by pointing at the slot machines, he wins twenty-nine jackpots. Like the invading body snatchers in both the Don Siegel film and the Philip Kaufman remake, he seems fated, despite this life-changing fortune, to end up a pod person.
Un giorno che si era svegliato particolarmente male, peggio del solito, e non aveva per niente voglia di imparare ad usare il Computer nuovo appena arrivato in ufficio, ha mandato a fare in culo il suo datore di lavoro che lo aveva apostrofato malamente e, da ragioniere provetto qual era, si era ritrovato nulla facente. Ma ecco che il direttore si alza, sta spegnendo il PC ma come sempre, conoscendo bene le abitudini dei tira tardi, chiede se qualcuno deve prendere ancora qualcosa o ha bisogno di qualche consulenza.
E' come se il luogo che lui tanto ama fosse diventato improvvisamente incandescente. Si mette il suo giubbotto e saluta senza prendere nulla, caracollando sconsolato fino all'uscita, tanto mogio e con la testa talmente bassa da sembrare un condannato a morte. Michele ha fame e cosa fa?
Michele ha bisogno di medicine? Se le fa prestare dal vicino anche se non sono quelle che il medico gli ha prescritto. Al limite del dolore, al limite di tutto, sempre e comunque. Michele sente nostalgia di una vera casa? Esce e cammina rasentando le casette del paese, in cerca di odori. Michele vuole un libro, ma non sa scegliere in fretta? Ebbene, lui sceglie piuttosto di stare senza libro: Che brutti pensieri e che mal di testa.