Part 16 - No knock, no doorbell (SPOILERS)

[DeepBlueSeed]

Has anyone brought up that it's weird that Cooper seems like Cooper pre-season 2 finale? I assumed the Black Lodge split his soul into two parts, good and evil? What are everyone else's thoughts on this?

There's always been two schools of thought on this, I think (one, that he was split into good and bad, two, that the doppelgänger is more like the 'evil twin' of the existing Cooper). This just seems to confirm one over the other.

[DeepBlueSeed]

Not really sure we can say the Mitchum Bros have "Hearts of Gold". Pretty sure they are still murderers, and were definitely planning to Kill Dougie...

I have had more & more reservations about the hearts-of-gold madness the more I think about it, how it seems to have overlooked some glaring exceptions of the brothers' -- but I've hoped to wait til the end & see how it plays out before I decide for sure. Even from Cooper's own words, would it be so out of character for the Coop we once knew to utter one thing while having a reversal-plan of action in mind that contradicts what was said?

I've had no issue with the 'Hearts of Gold' line because, from Coop's perspective, he first met them when he delivered them a cherry pie and a shit load of money and, after some initial gun waving, they've been the best of friends ever since. He's not been exposed to their beating the crap out of a guy. And he spent a whole evening with them and the 'Andies. He's probably seen more of their good will than we have (and, conversely, we've seen more of their bad will - even so, the only suggestion we have of them killing someone is when someone puts the idea into their head that Dougie has screwed them over with both the casino winnings and the insurance).

And, ultimately, it just sounds like Cooper putting his usual over the top positive spin on things.

[writersblock]

I know that time is limited, but I hope that Cooper doesn't just "know" everything that he needs to do now. It would be great to see him use his investigative skills and intuition to figure things out instead of just having everything already downloaded into his head somehow. His detective skills were more prominent in season 1 and early season 2. Later in season 2, Cooper became much more reactive - just waiting for things to happen. Unfortunately, with only 2 hours to go, I'm sure they'll have given Cooper whatever shortcuts he needs to reach a conclusion.

Also, Cooper seems to be up to date on all the people and events around him while he was in the Dougie role. Is he also aware of what year it is and everything that's changed since he was trapped? Does he understand modern technology? He was able to drive a modern BMW, though I'm not sure how different that would be from a car in 1989.

Does he expect all the same people to be working at the sheriff's department in TP? Cole was surprised that Lucy was still there. Will Cooper be expecting that Harry is still the sheriff there?

I don't see it that everything has been downloaded into his head. He has been paying attention to all the details while he was in the Lodge, his conversation(s?) with "The Fireman" and what he witnessed of events round him while his consciousness was constrained by "being Dougie" - like someone being able to hear music on a coma? If Cooper has had his faculties internally throughout and been in contact with Philip Gerard and The Fireman and knowing what Evil Cooper is up to then he has had plenty of time to work out a game plan.

[Ragnell]

Something just hit me watching a clip. Candie's affirmation that the Mitchem Brothers have hearts of gold...

She was paying attention.

Candie always needs to have her name called mulriple times and only seems to comprehend questions and orders when she is looking directly at the Mitchems.

But here she's looking away and hears everything Dale says.

I don't think Candie was putting on a front. I think its just a neat detail. Whatever level or world Candie is tuned into, Dale is able to broadcast to it. It shows his communication power.

[DeepBlueSeed]

I did briefly wonder, when we saw the two assassins chatting in their van, whether Dougie would do the usual trick of turning enemies into friends, and what sort of happy positive life these two might have.

And then I remembered Dougie had been electrocuted, and wasn't going to be able to 'fix' them. Ah well.

Come to think of it, did Ike the Spike get a positive ending from his encounter with Dougie? He didn't die, I suppose. I'd like to think he goes on to become a more valuable member of society, once he gets out of jail.

I don't know how they do things in the UK, but in the fine state of Nevada, a killer like Ike the Spike will NEVER leave prison.

Hah! Good point.

[DeepBlueSeed]

And then I remembered Dougie had been electrocuted, and wasn't going to be able to 'fix' them. Ah well.

You can't get electrocuted from 120 volts even if you stick your tongue in a light socket while standing in a bathtub. This was the "fire, that's like modern electricity" that he was receiving.

Just correcting you for safety: its not voltage, its current (amperage) that kills you. 15 amps is enough but to die from it he'd have to had made a circuit where it passes through his heart. Voltage only matters when high enough to burn you, which is why there's a warning for high voltage.

So yeah, it was a magic shock he got.

Electrocuted can include injury through electric shock, can't it? In any case, he was still not likely to be around to give anyone any of that Dougie good will.

[writersblock]

Not really sure we can say the Mitchum Bros have "Hearts of Gold". Pretty sure they are still murderers, and were definitely planning to Kill Dougie...

I have had more & more reservations about the hearts-of-gold madness the more I think about it, how it seems to have overlooked some glaring exceptions of the brothers' -- but I've hoped to wait til the end & see how it plays out before I decide for sure. Even from Cooper's own words, would it be so out of character for the Coop we once knew to utter one thing while having a reversal-plan of action in mind that contradicts what was said?

I've had no issue with the 'Hearts of Gold' line because, from Coop's perspective, he first met them when he delivered them a cherry pie and a shit load of money and, after some initial gun waving, they've been the best of friends ever since. He's not been exposed to their beating the crap out of a guy. And he spent a whole evening with them and the 'Andies. He's probably seen more of their good will than we have (and, conversely, we've seen more of their bad will - even so, the only suggestion we have of them killing someone is when someone puts the idea into their head that Dougie has screwed them over with both the casino winnings and the insurance).

And, ultimately, it just sounds like Cooper putting his usual over the top positive spin on things.

...And they had a hit in Ike - but yeah I agree completely

[Mr. Reindeer]

Something weird about the tulpa concept...Tammy is the only one who's used that word, correct? She seems to pull it out of thin air in Part 14, which seemed odd to me...how did Albert's story about two identical-looking women take her directly to mention this VERY specific, obscure concept (which my phone's autocorrect incidentally doesn't recognize), as opposed to the more generally known notion of a double, clone, or even doppelgänger? (It certainly strikes me that the pop culture-minded Tammy of Mark's book would go directly to "clone," and probably say something about Mr. Spock's goatee and Woody Allen's Sleeper for good measure.) And she is again the only one to use the word in this Part.

I'm not saying I think she's wrong, and in fact I really like the concept -- the idea of Diane having created a thought-self after DoppelCoop raped her, almost as a form of dissociation, is the closest the mythology has come all season to recreating what the mythology did at its best during the Leland/Laura material, functioning on both a literal and psychological/metaphorical level. But it seems like lazy writing that Tammy just immediately pulls this particular concept out of thin air and hits the nail on the head. I guess we can assume that Gordon or Albert had prepped her by mentioning it at some point off-handedly or recommending a book, but it still strikes me as a half-hearted attempt to make the character seem intelligent without connecting the dots. (Disclaimer: I actually like Tammy in the show a lot more than Tammy in the book and have grown really fond of Bell's performance; just dislike this particular piece of writing.)

[Manwith]

Something weird about the tulpa concept...Tammy is the only one who's used that word, correct? She seems to pull it out of thin air in Part 14, which seemed odd to me...how did Albert's story about two identical-looking women take her directly to mention this VERY specific, obscure concept (which my phone's autocorrect incidentally doesn't recognize), as opposed to the more generally known notion of a double, clone, or even doppelgänger? (It certainly strikes me that the pop culture-minded Tammy of Mark's book would go directly to "clone," and probably say something about Mr. Spock for good measure.) And she is again the only one to use the word in this Part.

I'm not saying I think she's wrong, and in fact I really like the concept -- the idea of Diane having created a thought-self after DoppelCoop raped her, almost as a form of dissociation, is the closest the mythology has come all season to recreating what the mythology did at its best during the Leland/Laura material, functioning on both a literal and psychological/metaphorical level. But it seems like lazy writing that Tammy just immediately pulls this particular concept out of thin air and hits the nail on the head. I guess we can assume that Gordon or Albert had prepped her by mentioning it at some point off-handedly or recommending a book, but it still strikes me as a half-hearted attempt to make the character seem intelligent without connecting the dots. (Disclaimer: I actually like Tammy in the show a lot more than Tammy in the book and have grown really fond of Bell's performance; just dislike this particular piece of writing.)

It didn't bother me. Tammy has presumably read other books besides Secret History of Twin Peaks's dossier Once she went down the rabbit hole she might have read more esoteric stuff.

On a related note, I was recently flipping through secret History and the mother/ experimental creature is presumably supposed to be a callback of sorts to the "whore of babylon" mention in Secret History, meant to bring about the end of the world. There's no indication in Twin Peaks that we have a antichrist figure/ moonchild as discussed in Secret History (unless that's supposed to be Sarah Palmer once she grows up) but the babylon symbolism seems to fit. Also it's possible one day the real world will end due to nuclear war if anyone is crazy enough to pull the trigger, so the biblical symbolism linked to the atom bomb seems to make sense.

[Hartright]

I think it is very interesting that Dougiecoop brightens the lives of those with whom he comes into contact. He is helped by those who find him a bit unnerving but ultimately show him care/love and gently assist him through his daily routines. His passivity sees those around him reveal themselves as they interact with him. They are so absorbed enough in their own dramas that they fail to properly take account of his catatonic state - instead interpreting his echoing words as comments on their various situations, affirming (or challenging) their beliefs. He becomes a conduit for those around him to solve problems as he reflects their own concerns back to them.

Dougiecoop's "heart-warming" narrative shows him as the ultimate cog in the machine. He has no ambition, or volition but he has value so long as he can perform (with some external help) his various social functions - finishing his case files, materially providing for his family, throwing ball, having conjugal sex. The principal way he has value is financial. Beyond providing for his family he saves Bushnell's business, makes Anthony realise the folly of his fraudulent behaviour, helps the Mitchums, shows the casino gambling woman "the light" and a way to security. There is no real morality here. He is the (unwitting) bringer of good fortune whose Midas touch transforms threatening and questionable characters (the forlorn gambler, the Mitchums etc) into more financially secure, relaxed, and likeable souls. He is surrounded in his hospital bed by those he has enriched. Upon his re-awakening he humorously declares the Mitchum to have hearts of gold - affirming the connection between virtue and wealth

This is an idealised counterpoint to Mr C who represents another way of moving through the world - activity, drive, ambition, strategy, competition. But in their own ways they both offer a course in "how to get ahead". I guess we'll soon see how this all plays out.

[Troubbble]

Something weird about the tulpa concept...Tammy is the only one who's used that word, correct? She seems to pull it out of thin air in Part 14, which seemed odd to me...how did Albert's story about two identical-looking women take her directly to mention this VERY specific, obscure concept (which my phone's autocorrect incidentally doesn't recognize), as opposed to the more generally known notion of a double, clone, or even doppelgänger? (It certainly strikes me that the pop culture-minded Tammy of Mark's book would go directly to "clone," and probably say something about Mr. Spock for good measure.) And she is again the only one to use the word in this Part.

I'm not saying I think she's wrong, and in fact I really like the concept -- the idea of Diane having created a thought-self after DoppelCoop raped her, almost as a form of dissociation, is the closest the mythology has come all season to recreating what the mythology did at its best during the Leland/Laura material, functioning on both a literal and psychological/metaphorical level. But it seems like lazy writing that Tammy just immediately pulls this particular concept out of thin air and hits the nail on the head. I guess we can assume that Gordon or Albert had prepped her by mentioning it at some point off-handedly or recommending a book, but it still strikes me as a half-hearted attempt to make the character seem intelligent without connecting the dots. (Disclaimer: I actually like Tammy in the show a lot more than Tammy in the book and have grown really fond of Bell's performance; just dislike this particular piece of writing.)

Not lazy writing - you're right in assuming it came from Gordon.

The idea of a "tulpa" comes from Tibetan Buddhism, which figures largely in Gordon's investigative methodology--and that was shared with Tammy, his protege, just as he would've shared it with Cooper many years ago. Tammy is parroting back a concept which she has heard from him before.

I also think that identifying this phenomenon as a tulpa is just their way of contextualizing something which is completely out-of-this-world, much like Windom Earle's use of "dugpa" in the original series.

[Novalis]

Got my breath back now.

The demise of Gary and Chantal Hutchens was, in a weird way, satisfying. It felt like some kind of redemption, all the more so after Gary's oblique references to the death of a guy he owed money and the way he heard the birds sing that morning. I think he was, slowly, growing a conscience. It's a shame Chantal wasn't really characterised at all above the level she was. Still, these were always going to be throw-away characters and we knew that from the start. Zawaski the accountant (not Kowalski as I earlier wrote, lol) is a bit of an enigma. While I understand the dark humour of an accountant with a deadpan manner and a submachine gun, I have to say that this doesn't play like typical Lynch to me. I wonder if it was more a Frostian comment on the 'American squeezed middle class' so bandied about since 2008; this seems all the more likely given Brad and Rod Mitchum's exchange on the doorstep: 'what the hell kind of neighbourhood is this?' / 'people are stressed, Bradley'. The idea that a nice clean suburban neighbourhood can on some occasions be far more lethal than a rundown urban slum area is actually something I find quite mesmerising and beautiful, and is obviously something that network television has latched onto in recent years. Although the political origins of this vision are somewhat reactionary (I'm no expert in American politics but it reminds me of the ravings of what they called the tea-party circa 2015, also groups like the taxpayers alliance in the UK) and rooted in the absurd idea that you can call a group of wholly privatised professional individuals disgruntled with popular culture and with the federal state a 'grassroots' movement despite their total lack of class consciousness. The point is, as Rodney seems to realise, a massive increase in upward revenue streams and mass media campaigns to assign blame to the underemployed has created a deeply polarised 'pressure-cooker' society. Let's not go any further with it. I feel the shadow of mod-hammers hovering. Let's just say that, were Frost a bit more savvy-serious rather than jokey-populist, this could have gone a bit differently. As it is, I'm just glad that the toying with Tarantino style moral-vacuum 'violence is the authentic everyday norm' was limited to this Bonnie-and-Clyde duo and that it is over for now. We got to see wind-shields and white overalls peppered with blood and I have to say some of those many bullets felt like a mild deliverance, a moral balm, given the body count these two have been tallying up. The way Gary is riddled with holes while hanging from the ceiling, and the camera follows this intently, feels very much like an on-the-nose moment of justice; Chantal catching stray bullets from behind. It's an eruptive, seemingly random event and Zawaski is almost like a force of nature, an operative of karma (if you believe such things -- I don't). It's satisfying that he too is arrested, and I can't help wanting to know his story.

I can't help wondering what Headley will make of all this. Wilson, you son of a bitch, what the hell did you do? I asked you to stake out a house and you come back with a multiple homicide. This is not what we do at the FBI! Man, that is some funny right there. This show isn't so much about the one hour we spend sitting in front of the screen, it's the take-away. The things that play out in our minds in the periods between parts. YMMV, of course, but I do get a lot of 'mileage' out of this fuel.

Others have mentioned the seeming servility of all and everyone upon Cooper's return: Mullens' gun, the Mitchums' plane, MIKE's tulpa-on-demand service, the Jones' extended patience; all are requested and are granted with relative ease and abandon. I process this on two levels: firstly, we are rushed for time and only have two hours left, so it doesn't make sense for extended dialogue and detailed arguments about motivations at this point (i.e. 'lazy' or badly-planned writing you might say); secondly, maybe Cooper really does have some kind of spiritual benediction going on, that first shone through his DougieCoop persona and touched everyone around him, getting them on side (even including a would-be assassin, Anthony), and now is even more fiercely shining out of his backside as Dale Cooper. I must admit, I'm a little cynical here and I would rather not be. But then I remember this is Lynch and we're no strangers to these kind of wondrous, golden moments of unreality. If I had wanted realism I wouldn't be here, I'd be watching a Dogme 95 flick. The point is, I'm still immersed. I'm immersed in a strange world though, where people are much more pliable and understanding than normal.

I've gone ballistic in another thread over how the effulgent glowing forgiveness of Dale Cooper is so Christlike that he can see no evil in the Mitchums; he sees their 'better selves', the hearts of gold that (putatively) rescued Candie from (what Shiels synthesised her character's backstory as) a history of human trafficking and abuse. I can buy it at a pinch but personally, this grates. If that's Candie's story, I want it made clear, and actors should not have fill in for Lynch's narrative deficits. Furthermore, if the Mitchums have changed so much, I want to see them inviting the casino operator they viscously assaulted back into the office and paying all his medical expenses, then offering him a stake in their business. I don't want this hand-wavy three-way bromance love-in on the back seat of a limo where a barely coded all-lads-together 'you guys rock' message is backed up by an adoring, absolutely dependant, Candie. I mean, Jesus Christ. It's a little insulting, don't you know? Nevermind, we're going to Twin Peaks and everything's going to be cherry-pie and damn-fine coffee guys; history is over, we can take a holiday from whatever gangland evils you might be involved in. Again, I don't expect realism but I do expect some level of resistance from the material realities of the world not to so easily conform to, what is at root, a protestant soteriological reverie. Yes, they grew up in an orphanage and they never had a gym set of their own; yes, they gave Candie somewhere to live and something to do; yes, they lay on finger sandwiches and cars and planes and revelled in Dougie's radiance; but at the end of the day (and until they say and do otherwise) they are still gun-carrying members of an organised crime syndicate. Their protestations that they're not going to be well-received at the TP sheriff station is a welcome dose of social reality that, again, is hand-waved away by Dale Cooper. But if he really does have the power to so easily erase the past, to erase the foundations of people's relationships, like this, then I have to ask, what really is the point of telling a story? He's like the epitome of a classical deus ex machina here, an intrusion into what has gone before that can, because of his Godmode power, easily force such redemption that it (effectively) retcons everyone we've been following. That's cheap... just cheap. I find myself hoping that Coop's boundless optimism is sorely misplaced, and Lynch is setting us up for some tears here. I don't want to ever dry my eyes and feel good about killers and mobsters, or see their professions as a series of life-choices just as valid as others, inflected with personalised peccadillos and idiosyncrasies that render them warm and human; this isn't some postmodern 2010 network trainwreck series, this is Twin Peaks for gods' sake. Stop watching TV and trying to be down with the cool kids Lynch, you were far better at understanding and depicting the reality of violence when you locked yourself in a cupboard.

Audrey.

So this is a conundrum; she and Charlie enter the roadhouse mid-Vedder (and that song is growing on me I have to say, although the Grunge-nostalgia is slaying me) and therefore throw this whole scene -- and maybe a whole lot of other Roadhouse scenes -- into question. One thing I do notice is this: the Starr guy MC at the roadhouse is a lot less animated here, as he announces Vedder. It's almost a chore for him, and I think this sort of indicates a break with other occasions on which he has been profoundly overjoyed to introduce the act. The way the scene slides from oh-I-got-it-wrong-Audrey-is-in-the-real-world into aaahh-she's-still-dreaming is absolutely beautiful. The absurdity, from the jarringly on-the-nose announcement of the act 'Audrey's dance' to everyone clearing the floor, and then the familiar 'Isn't it too dreamy?' recall music, really makes this a compelling moment. Fenn is surprisingly stiff in places, supple in others, as if not completely relishing this opportunity to re-enact what she must know has become her cult moment from the original series, but the overall effect is quite astounding. It's not quite 'fanservice', because it leaves a lot to be desired. Fenn doesn't give herself completely to the music, she resists it and retains a kind of awkwardness, a reserve or maturity and wisdom that was maybe missing in the original. She floats halfway between being a literal resume of her former self and being something beyond that, someone who has grown and suffered in the interim. She's deadpan but full of secrets and pain. I don't know how much of this is planned-portrayal and how much is down to her personal biography, and ultimately it doesn't matter. Didn't I say as we approached the finale things would get celebratory? 'All things Twin Peaks' were my words, if I recall correctly? A 'blow-out'? Yes, I did say that. All of which makes the ending scene of part 16 so much of a gasp for me.

As someone runs across the dancefloor and launches into a confrontation over 'his wife' (marriage and male possession of women keeps coming up folks, just saying) -- also yes, now on rewatch I think it's definitely Monique, not Barney, lol at myself-- Audrey grabs hold of Charlie and brings his face up close, demanding an exit. Charlie's face is replaced immediately by a mirror. Looks like we were right: Charlie is something of her own. What a sudden, unexpected shift of frame that was. It caught me entirely by surprise, even knowing as I did that we were immersed in a dream/vision. The abrupt contrast between the darkened, moody atmosphere of the Roadhouse and the clinical, neutral white of wherever-Audrey-is was very powerful. As she gapes into the mirror 'wha...what...wha..' I'm in a very similar state of mind. Sometimes you can have all the answers tucked under your belt and still be surprised when the thing you predicted actually happens -- that's a mark of this show's magic I guess.

Yes I still love it, despite all the misgivings I've had and still have. Lynch-Frost is so often wide of the mark for me when it comes to those moments when they attempt some kind of commentary or 'deal with' or give some kind of treatment to social issues that its pathetic, and yet I still love their overall effort because of the magic of moments like these. In a way, the avant-garde nature of Twin Peaks the Return is probably best treated as not-very-serious popcorn fare (something I thought I would never see myself write), a roller-coaster ride that soars and can at any moment plunge through several levels or storeys of reality, such that it might be unwise to get too analytic or critical about any one of them. I think this is covered best by Wilson's book on Lynch's Transcendental Irony, but I don't agree with everything he says, and Nochimson is opening my eyes (slowly) to a whole other way of seeing the same thing.

The crucial thing is I'm certainly never indifferent to this show; it drives me crazy in places and rewards me shovelfuls in others. I'll be somewhat changed by it all. That means it's been something. I'll also miss it when its gone; I'm already feeling the melancholic stirrings of what it's going to be like after this week without my Twin Peaks to look forward to. Sad face.

There, you can have your thread back now, I release you.

[claaa7]

Richard being electrocuted on top of the rock certainly reminded me of the cover of The Big Dream, especially when they filmed his shadow landing on the ground in front of the stone.. it is also very possible that Richard and Cooper was electrocuted at the same time.

[DeepBlueSeed]

Something weird about the tulpa concept...Tammy is the only one who's used that word, correct? She seems to pull it out of thin air in Part 14, which seemed odd to me...how did Albert's story about two identical-looking women take her directly to mention this VERY specific, obscure concept (which my phone's autocorrect incidentally doesn't recognize), as opposed to the more generally known notion of a double, clone, or even doppelgänger? (It certainly strikes me that the pop culture-minded Tammy of Mark's book would go directly to "clone," and probably say something about Mr. Spock for good measure.) And she is again the only one to use the word in this Part.

I'm not saying I think she's wrong, and in fact I really like the concept -- the idea of Diane having created a thought-self after DoppelCoop raped her, almost as a form of dissociation, is the closest the mythology has come all season to recreating what the mythology did at its best during the Leland/Laura material, functioning on both a literal and psychological/metaphorical level. But it seems like lazy writing that Tammy just immediately pulls this particular concept out of thin air and hits the nail on the head. I guess we can assume that Gordon or Albert had prepped her by mentioning it at some point off-handedly or recommending a book, but it still strikes me as a half-hearted attempt to make the character seem intelligent without connecting the dots. (Disclaimer: I actually like Tammy in the show a lot more than Tammy in the book and have grown really fond of Bell's performance; just dislike this particular piece of writing.)

It didn't bother me. Tammy has presumably read other books besides Secret History of Twin Peaks's dossier Once she went down the rabbit hole she might have read more esoteric stuff.

When she first mentioned 'tulpas' I assumed that Albert had been describing doppelgängers (not now, of course), but I suspect the fact that the woman just disappeared, as if imagined, was the only reason Tammy jumps to the conclusion that the woman was a tulpa.

Although we've taken to using the term here to label the constructs as distinct from doppelgängers, Dougie and fake-Diane, I wonder if the FBI are still somewhat in the dark about what exactly Mr C is. Maybe they think he might be a tulpa, because it's easy enough for them to classify fake-Diane as a doppelgänger of real Diane, and doppelgängers as a subset of tulpa, given that the FBI don't really know what happened to Cooper or how doppelgängers are created.

Then again, maybe Cole knows more than he's letting on. Maybe he's a tulpa.

[Fashion Suicide]

I don't know if anyone has mentioned this, but when Diane receives the ":-) ALL" message in the bar the time on her phone shows 16:31, and later in the hotel room she looks again, and it shows 15:50.

What do you think this means?

Skærmbillede 2017-08-30 kl. 15.24.15 (2).png (522.03 KiB) Viewed 9765 times

Skærmbillede 2017-08-30 kl. 15.24.44 (2).png (734.7 KiB) Viewed 9765 times