Although I think one of Lynch's goals is precisely to invite the sort of endless theorizing that he himself refuses to indulge (presumably because then his "authorial" interpretations would be seen as definitive and end the roundelay of speculation), personally I'm partial to this kind of (formalist?) anti-reading. To me the many, many motifs in the series—Chalfont, "My Prayer," motels, etc.—function kind of like the stripe pattern on the tie and the box in Un chien andalou: a rhyme that teases at but refuses to fix into a larger, meaningful pattern.onedimension wrote:It's also meaning itself, and understanding, that constantly eludes, even as we move along our tracks seeking it like greyhounds pursuing a mechanical rabbit. Eerie to me that John Ashbery, who like Lynch could move through generic registers with ease, with the same liquid irresolution, died the day this final episode streamed.
I think this is exactly right. Inland Empire works in a very similar way. Meaning eternally withheld just out of grasp is the end Lynch now works toward. Beautiful, terrifying confusion.whaleallright wrote:Although I think one of Lynch's goals is precisely to invite the sort of endless theorizing that he himself refuses to indulge (presumably because then his "authorial" interpretations would be seen as definitive and end the roundelay of speculation), personally I'm partial to this kind of (formalist?) anti-reading. To me the many, many motifs in the series—Chalfont, "My Prayer," motels, etc.—function kind of like the stripe pattern on the tie and the box in Un chien andalou: a rhyme that teases at but refuses to fix into a larger, meaningful pattern.onedimension wrote:It's also meaning itself, and understanding, that constantly eludes, even as we move along our tracks seeking it like greyhounds pursuing a mechanical rabbit. Eerie to me that John Ashbery, who like Lynch could move through generic registers with ease, with the same liquid irresolution, died the day this final episode streamed.
This final scene was one of the few that descriptions of got leaked online, and one member on dugpa.com was there while they filmed it. If I remember correctly, they said three or so takes were filmed. That sounds about right because Matthew Lillard said in one interview that they only had time for two takes for his breakdown during the interview with Chrysta Bell sitting opposite (was it Part 9? I don't remember). I don't know whether Lynch usually only takes this few takes or whether it was to some extent necessitated by the sheer amount that they had to shoot.mfunk9786 wrote:I wonder how many takes that took. Particularly because it looked painful.
denti alligator wrote:Just sayin'.SpoilerShowAfter Cooper emerged from the Black Lodge at the end, he no longer seemed himself. If he had had those black eyes, I would have assumed he was evil Coop. Obviously, the final scene seemed in line; but the acting (gestures, gait, delivery, etc.) all seemed out of the "Evil Coop" playbook.
Cooper's identity shifts the more and more he tries to deny his reality.denti alligator wrote:Just sayin'.SpoilerShowAfter Cooper emerged from the Black Lodge at the end, he no longer seemed himself. If he had had those black eyes, I would have assumed he was evil Coop. Obviously, the final scene seemed in line; but the acting (gestures, gait, delivery, etc.) all seemed out of the "Evil Coop" playbook.
That's interesting, because it is so tailored and perfect. I can't think of another instance of two actors just totally nailing an uncomfortable and huge moment so well, perhaps since the fight in The Sopranos' "Whitecaps." This has a very different energy to it than that did of course, but this seems like it might be even harder to pinpoint so well.Finch wrote:This final scene was one of the few that descriptions of got leaked online, and one member on dugpa.com was there while they filmed it. If I remember correctly, they said three or so takes were filmed. That sounds about right because Matthew Lillard said in one interview that they only had time for two takes for his breakdown during the interview with Chrysta Bell sitting opposite (was it Part 9? I don't remember). I don't know whether Lynch usually only takes this few takes or whether it was to some extent necessitated by the sheer amount that they had to shoot.mfunk9786 wrote:I wonder how many takes that took. Particularly because it looked painful.
Good point.headacheboy wrote:I agree that the final hour was a perfect way to close. I have just one additional thing to add:
SpoilerShowThe dead man, with his brains splattered on the wall, on Carrie's couch, is the indicator we need to understand that in this new world (parallel world or whatever you wish to call it) Carrie Page/Laura Palmer is involved in some bad shit that will lead to her demise just as it did in Twin Peaks. That feeds into the notion that Cooper isn't going to save her in this new world any more than he did in the old world.
Sad to think the "I am the FBI" Cooper we saw in 3.16 and 3.17, the irrepressibly pleasant and assured character from the first two seasons, may have always been a kind of false self.Cde. wrote:Cooper's identity shifts the more and more he tries to deny his reality.denti alligator wrote:Just sayin'.SpoilerShowAfter Cooper emerged from the Black Lodge at the end, he no longer seemed himself. If he had had those black eyes, I would have assumed he was evil Coop. Obviously, the final scene seemed in line; but the acting (gestures, gait, delivery, etc.) all seemed out of the "Evil Coop" playbook.
Evil Coop was never really just an evil twin, but a reflection of the repressed negative energy within Cooper. The lines between the facets of Cooper start to blur.
I love the terror of Diane's 'is it really you?'. Is it Good Coop? Evil Coop? What's the difference anymore?
The other possibility is that Cooper isRoger Ryan wrote:I suppose it was the interview with Showtime's David Nevins (on Aug. 7th) where he mentioned he'd be open to doing another season if Lynch wanted to which make me wonder if an announcement was being held off until after the finale had aired. As open-ended as Lynch may generally be, he has never before left things in such an inconclusive state (his most obtuse films, Lost Highway and Inland Empire, still feel like they've reached an earned resolution). The exception to this would be the second season of Twin Peaks where both he and Frost had hoped the final episode would persuade the network to renew the show for a third season. The two-part finale of The Return actually has all the earmarks of a series preparing for another season in the way the main conflict (established in that 1991 season two finale) is resolved while new, deeper mysteries are introduced.
Still, I won't be too disappointed if Episode 18 is, indeed, the end and I have some admiration for the way it honors the happenstance legacy of Twin Peaks as being forever unfinished.
The clues for how this would end is in the very first scene of The Return where...
SpoilerShow...the Fireman tells Cooper that he should remember the names "Richard" and "Linda" and that Cooper is "very far away". Like in previous Lynch films, characters take on different identities in the final episode and, perhaps, the Fireman is gently alerting Cooper that he is not who he thinks he is. In fact, the Cooper that eventually escapes the confines of "Dougie" and the character of "Richard" parallel how the character of "Betty" is really the idealized version of "Diane" in Mulholland Dr.. Special Agent "Richard" is a darker, less confident and less earnest version of Cooper. He also displays some of the same traits as Mr. C. In other words, he is not wholly good or bad, and comes across as the more realistic character when juxtaposed with the Cooper we were rooting to return.
"Who is the dreamer?" Gordon Cole asks. It seems to me that Richard is the dreamer and he eventually wakes up in Odessa, TX determined to solve a mystery where all of the gathered evidence, which seemed so solid in his dream, is slipping away from his grasp.