''What happens in Twin Peaks, never stays in Twin Peaks''
It's good that Lynch made a new Twin Peaks series. But equally bad for him and for future TV productions with more radical ambitions. The "return" to Twin Peaks is what all of us have, for all these 25 years, needed, although de facto we did not get it. However, as the director of all 18 episodes (aside from all other engagements on it), Lynch showed how much a imaginative man can do with some very simple solutions. His homage and paraphrasing of Melies, silent films of the early expressionist film (especially Lang) and alignment with his undisputed successors such as Canadian Guy Maddin and his postmodern interpretations of everything mentioned, resulted in a series of full, raw, creative, breath-taking solutions. Lynch once again did on television something that no one else had done. Lynch's genius went along a thin line between almost mockering the viewer (perhaps the Twin Peaks concept itself) and the desire to block all of the senses.
On the other hand, this Twin Peaks, with all possible freedom from Showtime (apparently!) given to Lynch, will be taken as an example that "excess of liberty" is not always what should be afforded to the author. Twin Peaks: The Return is as much as any of you liked it, it was a pre-hematical experience, hard to follow and not so grateful if you weren't able to pay all your attention. But, about the defects and virtues, I will want to point out here before argumentation later. Twin Peaks: The Return is a kind of "fuck off" to established TV dramaturgies, models of production, demonstrated ways of telling a story, a TV viewer (the average watching audience), Hollywood and everyone who turned his back on him. I'm afraid to write it, but Twin Peaks: The Return is what Lynch really wanted to do. Perhaps not the same, but definitely 2017. And even more afraid that no one will offer the next job on the basis of this comeback.
Everything that happened in this season would be described as two parallel road movies, one "good", another "bad" Douglas Cooper, who, from the moment they are separated and returned to Earth, go to their moment reuniting, and on the way, they meet people and initiate different types of events. The amount of these new people, their chronic unusuality (even for Lynch's standards), is a dramatic process that usually adorns the mood of the movie. What they encountered in Twin Peaks would not even add a special symbolism (despite the title of the series), because the bizarre things from that encounter were also happening in other locations (including the castles in the sky). At the very end, Cooper's continuation of the adventure implies that he is actually in the rescue mission of Laura Palmer (an impossible mission, therefore) and in that last episode more than anything else was sketched what could be happening in any eventual next season, where the journey through time has opened yet another dimension of dealing with Twin Peaks mysteries.
With the exception of Cooper (and a few other ones like Laura Palmer and Deputy Hawk), most "old" heroes had almost absolutely no purpose, meaning even less. All of them were left largely where they were (some even to the level of parody, such as Ben Horne Hotel) and more than anything else they used to serve as a nostalgic locating for Twin Peaks and his frivolous-naked role in the whole story. Some, like (the scary young-pseudo-looking) Bobby managed to tie up to the main storyline of the new season (his father led him as a little to the gateway to other dimensions in the forest). But most remained tied to the same routines set up in the original series, while shifts (usually through "younger generations") showed that Twin Peaks did not remain in its mystical idyll, but that it was also propelled by a transitional monster of pervaded capitalism. In other words, the young Twinspans have become selfish, cold and cruel. And the gap between them and the old Guards is greater than it was between Laura Palmer, the pioneer of "new times" and the then inhabitants.
And while in the original episodes we had time to get to know the heroes and get used to their characters and lives, that is absolutely not the case now. For example, the Mitchum brothers, who played absurdly irrelevant episodes this season. But they were characters from blood and flesh, even comical in that. In addition, Lynch's Gordon Cole got enormous amount of time on the screen, and he was brilliant. But the new heroes simply did not have enough time to come to life and become more than "mysterious tricks", while they are old, sometimes cynical (as in the case of Andy and Lucy's wife), they were an unmistakable part of the old puppetry who by that simple "attachment to the place" remained in this story.
''Violence has assumed chilling new forms in Twin Peaks: The Return, and the show’s treatment of it has accordingly grown more complex. In episode 10, Lynch observes two assaults, shown through diametrically opposed methods: in the first, Lynch holds on an unbroken shot of a trailer as the occupant is murdered. The sounds of her fighting and screaming are chilling, but the static shot leaves an impression of frosty indifference. The second feels far more intimate, operating with close-ups and dialogue that makes the audience privy to the attacker’s white-hot hatred. Even for a filmmaker who’s essentially staked out the nexus of the uncanny and the disturbing as his personal fiefdom, Lynch has doubled down on his experimentalism and overall inscrutability. And that’s granted him access to an elevated sort of cinematic plane, where he can communicate through methods that are less lucid and more primally affecting than ever.
Lynch has weaponized the TV frame itself, using color, motion, light, and sound to create a physical aggression in his images, and shock his audience. Through the showbiz magic known as “pressuring Showtime into giving him final-cut authority,” Lynch recently pulled off the single most avant-garde hour of TV in the medium’s history. Episode 8 of the series sees Lynch pulling every formal trick out of his sleeve to establish an atmosphere of violence located in another dimension. Through double exposure, stroboscopic lights, and jarring hyperactive cuts, he destabilizes viewers and leaves them with no way to get their bearings. He’s attacking people on a subconscious level, manipulating white noise on the audio mix so it continuously fades in and out of awareness. It’s an alien sort of violence, a distinct variety that promotes a feeling of insecurity and threat, rather than immediate danger.'' (1)
The Best Fan Theories About Twin Peaks: The Return
(source : http://www.vulture.com )
Diane = Naido
Before FBI Agents Tammy Preston and Albert Rosenfield shoot Diane’s tulpa, she relays an upsetting story that confirms what some viewers already suspected: She was raped by Mr. C many years prior, assuming he was the good Dale Cooper she always knew him to be. Before she gets transported back into the Red Room, Diane’s tulpa reaches a mental breaking point in her monologue, explaining where her doppelgänger might be. “I’m in the sheriff’s station. I’m in the sheriff’s station! I sent him those coordinates,” she says. “I’m in the sheriff’s station because … because I’m not me.” Which woman is currently in the Twin Peaks sheriff’s station? The eyeless Naido, whom the real Cooper briefly encountered before his Dougie Jones adventure began. Rearranging the letters, “Naido” is very close in spelling to “Diane,” and although the women are of different ethnicities, Diane’s fashion choice of Asian-influenced clothing could be a little wink-wink of the reveal to come. Others have speculated Naido could also be the mysterious “Judy” that Mr. C is so keen on locating, since he, too, is heading to the sheriff’s station with a purpose. Don’t forget: Andy Brennan says that this woman is “very important and there are people who want her dead.”
Audrey is institutionalized
There are quite a few theories about Audrey Horne’s whereabouts — which include everything from comas to tulpas — but the most reasonable theory is that she’s institutionalized in a psych ward. Being raped by Mr. C when she was still a high-school student, coupled with the stress of raising a son who’s the personification of a demon child, could’ve simply driven her to insanity after all of these years. (The brief scene where she “wakes up” from her dream visually seems to suggest a hospital-like setting. The light is overwhelmingly bright and the only company she has in her room is a small mirror.) The “husband” in her dreams, Charlie, could very likely be a doctor or psychiatrist who assists in treating her. However, there could possibly be some Lodge activities at play here as well. Why else would the credits sequence to “Part 16” play “Audrey’s Dance” backwards, à la the Red Room? Who knows what the Lodges are capable of containing. If you want to dig even deeper, an Instagram postfrom Sherilyn Fenn hints that Audrey might be “the dreamer” who controls everything we’re seeing.
The “woodsmen” will arrive in Twin Peaks
Aside from Richard Horne, no other characters in The Return have been as purely terrifying as the gang of soot-covered woodsmen, who were introduced back in episode eight. With Sarah Palmer’s warning to the teen workers at a supermarket that “men are coming,” as well as all of our major players descending upon the Northwestern town for the two-part finale, it would be the perfect time for these woodsmen to invade and wreak bloody havoc. Might they even intercept Dr. Amp’s radio show to spew out some hypnotic “this is the water, and this is the well” ramblings once again?
Cooper will create a doppelgänger for Janey-E and Sonny Jim
After we finished screaming, “Oh my god!” when Cooper woke up from his fugue state, we took careful note of his request to Mike: “Make another one.” He even ripped out some of his hair to ensure his request is carried out, but what could it possibly mean? While Cooper could be planning a bigger operation to take down Mr. C, it seems more likely that he wants to ensure Janey-E and Sonny Jim have a normal (and devoted) husband and father back in their lives again. “We’re a family. Dougie — I mean, I — will be back,” he explains to the duo before he leaves for his flight to Spokane. “You’ll see me soon. I’ll walk through that red door and I’ll be home for good.”
Sarah Palmer is the “Mother”
There’s something indisputably wrong with Sarah, as evidenced by the way she literally opened up her face to reveal eternal darkness to the man who was harassing her at a bar. Oh, and then she slit his neck open to kill him. While the nature of what’s possessing her is unknown, some viewers believe she’s the “Mother” who’s been looming behind the scenes of The Return since the beginning on the season. Chronologically, Sarah could’ve been the young girl in 1940s New Mexico who swallowed the otherworldly, large black bug while asleep in episode eight, which means she’s been possessed by the creature for almost all of her life. In the present day, “Mother” was heard banging on some doors in the surrealist dreamscape that Agent Cooper found himself in — along with the “American Girl,” who warned Cooper not to attract her attention — before he traveled through an electric outlet to Las Vegas. Some suspect that this “Mother” was also responsible for killing the two young lovers who watched the glass box in New York City, because, as we know by Cooper’s brief appearance in it, the box serves as some type of station between two worlds. (Notice the similarities in how the lovers and the bar harasser were killed.) Additionally, the phone conversation between Mr. C and “Phillip Jeffries” in an early episode sounds like Sarah’s distorted voice — a.k.a the voice that spoke at the bar before killing the man, or, going back to the original series, the voice that warned Major Briggs about the Black Lodge and Cooper. By mentioning to Mr. C that she “missed” him “in New York,” this sentiment suggests that she was, indeed, the figure in the box.
NOTE:
The first part is my translation from Serbian to English from an article from Before After - ''TV GONIČ: Twin Peaks: The Return''
(1) The Verge - The new Twin Peaks isn't just violent — it redefines what violence is