Let's Rock

Nine-ish years ago when Twin Peaks: The Return was first airing, a friend of mine who had recently opened an art theater in Santa Ana announced that he was screening the first set of episodes in one of the theaters as they aired on Showtime. I have no idea how licensed or sanctioned this was, but I was bummed that I couldn't attend since I've always wanted to see the series on the big screen. Earlier this year the same theater announced that they'd be playing the full three seasons of the show two episodes at a time weekly on Sunday evenings. I immediately knew that I couldn't make it to the full set of shows, but I desperately wanted to watch as much of The Return again with an audience and no distractions, so I pledged to try to hit as many of those showings as I could when they started at the then-far-away-seeming date of July 26. We leave in a couple of hours and I'm very excited as I haven't seen the full series since it aired, but having rewatched individual episodes here and there over the intervening years.

When I was chatting to someone earlier this week about the screenings, I was reminded of the time my mom took some friends and I to see Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me on opening day, with none of us having any idea what we were in for. I think worse than realizing you've brought your young teen and his classmates to a movie filled with explicit, degrading sexual content that ends in a 15-minute incestuous torture murder strobe-fest, is the realization that you're sitting through a 2+ hour prequel to a TV show you didn't watch from one of the most divisive filmmakers ever to do it, who is being intentionally provocative and audience-alienating to a degree that is almost cruel.

I want to be clear: I love Fire Walk With Me. I have always loved Fire Walk With Me. I had a Fire Walk With Me poster on the wall of my bedroom, and I printed out the script for the 5-and-a-half hour rough cut that Lynch submitted on our dot matrix printer. I barely remember the differences, except there was a lot more stuff between Chris Issak and the dipshit sheriffs he and Kiefer Sutherland encounter while working their case. But I'm also sympathetic to anyone who does not vibe with Lynch having to try to make sense of what is happening on screen in that film, which is still a tough watch as a 40-something hardened Twin Peaks-head.

I am currently listening to the Fire Walk With Me soundtrack, which I think is the best of all the Badalamenti/Lynch collaborations, all of which are all-timers. I'm trying to get in the right headspace for tonight and am starting to worry that I've done myself dirty by not diving deeper into the first two seasons again before revisiting The Return, like an ex-runner who enters a marathon he ran once before long ago, but has neglected to train for this time. I guess we'll see how it goes.

(No joke though, this soundtrack still slaps hard.)