The greatest fucking season of television there ever was.
Agreed. Watching this show as it aired was nothing short of a spiritual experience for me. It was, and still is, very dear to my heart. Finished my 3rd rewatch pretty recently.
Audrey scenes were amazing depictions of mental illness
Also agreed. I thought Audrey's story ultimately contained a great deal of hope. Grim hope, maybe, but hope nonetheless.
Recently got my fictive sibling into Twin Peaks, they're not very far into it yet but I'm eagerly anticipating their perspectives on The Return.
We both grew up as impossibly weird, severely abused kids in small, rural, conservative towns, places that prided themselves on the "wholesome White American Dream" image while being "full to groanin'" (as my Mother would say) with rottenness, decay, and bigotry underneath that thin veneer. Most folks never really looked past the pastoral fantasy, or became outright violent with denial when confronted with the notion that it wasn't such a happy dream for all of us. For some of us, it was truly a nightmare, and very nearly a fatal one. "Everybody knew she was in trouble but we didn't do anything. All you good people…you wanna know who killed Laura Palmer? You did! We all did."
The pain, dissociation, desperate despair, and fragmentation of the self at the heart of that experience is something Lynch totally nails. What I love most about the character of Laura Palmer -- what I identify with the most about her, what I think The Return illustrated magnificently -- is that she's special
because of her suffering, not
in spite of it. We can't simply "get over" or "move on" from these experiences. They're part of us. The darkness can't be banished or vanquished, it can only be faced with courage and awareness, and at best, integrated into an empowering narrative. These selves are a creative survival strategy in the face of overwhelming trauma and deserve to be valued as such. "One and the same."
I think that's a pretty damn powerful message for us weird, abused kids trying to navigate a way to live when it seems impossible to comprehend, trying to integrate trauma into their narrative when it's so abhorrent that we'd rather think it happened to someone else entirely. "I feel like I know her, but sometimes my arms bend back."
Laura's final scream, to me, is emblematic of the final shattering of the illusion of family and home, which for many people -- whether they're able to articulate it or not -- represents the core of what they consider "reality." She's no longer living in a dream, and that cataclysmic awareness feels like it breaks the whole world. It's how I felt when I finally broke through the notion that I was fine, that my family was fine, that my home town was fine. I realized all at once how terribly bad things really were, and what I needed to do to change a future filled with roles that had seemingly already been written for me. I'm nobody's everlasting gobstobber of garmonbozia anymore.
Thank Dougie, lol