Jean Luc Godard hat einmal gesagt, Kino heisse, dem Tod bei der Arbeit zuzusehen. Michel de Montaigne hat einmal geschrieben, leben heisse sterben lernen. Willkommen in Twin Peaks. Der wunderbare Soundtrack von Angelo De Badalamenti erleichtert den Zugang zu diesem modernen Klassiker der Fernsehgeschichte genauso wie der seltsame Humor, der in der ersten Staffel durchaus einen gewissen Raum einnimmt.
The most exhilirating of last years’ time travel activities has been the return of „Twin Peaks“, 25 years after leaving Agent Cooper in a disturbing trap. 18 episodes rush over you with the inventiveness of radical cinema, anti-nostalgia (what an ability to disappoint our expectations – and then to fulfill at least some of them when we are all ready to give up) – and an even higher level of bleakness that can only be handled with a big step into surrealism, dream territories, and some fleeting moments of relief. The third season of Twin Peaks is a fanatstic achievement, and one of the most effective renditions of surrealism in modern TV history.
Though I always raise my eyebrows when David Lynch promotes his heavily manipulative TM machinery (as bad as Scientology), he is definitely (still) a master in filmmaking, a chain-smoker, and (looking at the bonus material of season 3’s limited edition) apparently a warm-hearted person, occasionally.
It takes some time to discover old traces of humour and burlesque again, but they still exist. As does a prevailing sense of wonder. This is enlightening stuff from the department of darkness, and more so for those who have seen the first two seasons decades ago. A show that once changed the landscape of television forever – ask Damon Lindelof, the mastermind of LOST and THE LEFTOVERS. Or, simply, do remember!
And, please, forget your dreams of fairytale endings. In essence, it is all about the samsara of life, the illlusionary character of everything we are striving for with blindness (to only offer you the polite version). We learn these things with a devastating sense of hopelessness. David Lynch wanted us to feel utterly lost. It’s one of the most powerful emotions there is. What a paradox that in the end you are left speechless, but with a strangely knowing smile.
And the humans here, coming back from the glorious past of early Twin Peaks – some of them have had to face their deaths in fucking real life, after the curtain‘s call. The last one to leave was Julee Cruise. Her singing – the stuff dreams are made of. The old lucid dreamer‘s training question about being in a dream or in waking life – well, you can ask this the whole way through. Never even try to see this third season without getting lost in the first two ones, seriously.
(There is a fine Bluray version of Twin Peaks, seasons 1-3, for 45 Euros.)