Everything You Need To Know About 'Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me' Before The New Season

Like many people who either weren't born yet or can't remember the early '90s, I knew about Twin Peaks before I had any idea what Twin Peaks really was. Although it was only on TV for two thoroughly-bizarre seasons, the show trickled into the collective unconscious through parodies on shows like The Simpsons and a seemingly never-ending parade of series that owed their existence to it.

I somehow absorbed details from the series without watching a minute of it: the backwards dialogue, "damn good coffee," dancing in the Red Room, Angelo Badalamenti's lush soap opera score, the fish in the percolator, "that gum you like is going to come back in style," and all that cherry pie. When I finally got around to watching it, I made sure to set the mood appropriately: I skipped high school one day with two friends and retreated to one of their houses, closed all the blinds, and binge-watched the entire first season after it was released on DVD for the first time. I had already become a David Lynch devotee by that point, so I wasn't disappointed: it had all the lurid strangeness I had been expecting, all those iconic moments popping up amid the damp, surreal terrain of the Pacific Northwest.

Sometime soon after, I watched season two alone, which wasn't quite as engrossing an experience. The first few episodes, the brutal culmination of the Laura Palmer investigation, still had much of that strange and elusive magic, but the season slowly seemed to go off the rails until the car crash of a finale. And I don't mean "car crash" as an insult—season two got stuck in such a rut of digressions, with characters trapped in doorknobs, utterly boring femme fatale stories, and amnesia plotlines. Thank God Lynch returned to direct the finale and shock viewers out of their stupor with Cooper's final horrifying trip through the Black Lodge.

Finally, I got around to watching the last piece in the puzzle, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. At the time I was unbelievably excited about it, stupidly assuming it would continue Cooper's story from that finale, and shed more light into the supernatural elements of the town. But like many people, I had an allergic reaction to the movie. I hated it so much at the time, it almost ruined the entire Twin Peaks experience for me (apparently I wasn't alone in feeling that).

NOTE: THERE ARE PLENTY OF 'TWIN PEAKS' SPOILERS IN THE PERCOLATOR BELOW

The movie turned out to be a bizarre amalgamation of a prequel and epilogue to the show, one where the fundamental balance of Twin Peaks was off. Essential ingredients were missing, like the humor, the soapiness, and the throwback '50s vibe. Instead, in following Laura's last week before her murder, it leaned fully into the horror elements of the story, and came off as psychological misery porn. It seemed like a series of scenes/vignettes based around a Twin Peaks motif but without any center of gravity—not only was Agent Cooper, the protagonist of the entire series, sidelined completely, but a huge amount of the original cast was nowhere to be seen or recast (you can learn the reasons behind Cooper's diminished presence and all that here). It should have perhaps been titled, Twin Peaks: The Absolutely Miserable Life Of Laura Palmer.

You probably know what comes next: Twin Peaks is coming back to television on Showtime this weekend, driving fans mad with excitement. Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost have done a superlative job of denying us almost any information about the new season, except for an impressively huge cast list and a few opaque teasers. For the first time since I watched Fire Walk With Me, I couldn't wait to return to the world.

And then, of course, Lynch dropped one hint in a piece with Variety: "The film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, he says, is very important to understanding what’s coming May 21." And here we are.

I'm happy to say that watching it again was a much, much better experience the second time around. I still think it doesn't really work that well as a movie—it's like a really intense extrapolation of the Twin Peaks universe that isn't very pleasurable to watch because of the incredibly heavy, tragic themes. The first third of the film almost feels completely separate from the rest; David Bowie's storied cameo still makes no sense (nor does his outfit or accent); there are tons of abrasive/sudden cuts between settings, and at times scenes fade out like it's going to commercial break; Cooper's scenes feel shoehorned in (which they basically were, since Kyle MacLachlan balked at doing it initially); and most of that signature quirky humor has been replaced by uncomfortable levels of tension (so it goes with a story where you know the main character is headed for a brutal death at the hands of her father, who is possessed by a demonic spirit).

But it's also filled with tons of signature Lynchian shots and themes. There are unforgettable scenes of haunting beauty (like when Donna and Laura talk about falling in space, foreshadowing Laura's death: "Faster and faster. And for a long time you wouldn't feel anything. And then you'd burst into fire. Forever... And the angels wouldn't help you. Because they've all gone away." (This is especially notable considering the angel who ultimately graces Laura at the very end of the film.)

Most of the various supernatural elements (BOB/MIKE, the ring, the Red Room council) really do reveal themselves to make sense if you can get onto Lynch's wavelength (or if you invest a little time on YouTube, as I did this go around). And the horror elements are more powerful than ever: every time BOB is on screen, you want to scream along with Laura. Upon reflection, the film's mood is a lot closer to Lynch's work in subsequent works like Lost Highway or Mulholland Drive than the soapy milieu of the TV show, with doppelgängers galore and seedy, surreal detours into the lives of the most catastrophically broken people in town. While you might question whether you personally want to experience it, Lynch actually did what he set out to do with the film: make a harrowing movie about "the loneliness, shame, guilt, confusion and devastation of the victim of incest."

Laura Palmer was always somewhat of a cipher in the original series—some might say she was the original Manic Pixie Dead Girl. We only saw her in brief flashbacks during the show, but Lynch couldn't shake the feeling he wanted to explore her more in-depth. In Fire Walk With Me, he really digs out the subtextual grief that drove the residents of Twin Peaks a little bonkers during the series (you might have forgotten, but there is a LOT of crying in the pilot). It is, ultimately, more heartbreaking than thrilling, a shriek rather than a jazzy tune. It's also a poison pen gift to the character of Laura Palmer, who seems on the precipice of a void from her first appearance in the film. Actress Sheryl Lee is truly remarkable here, as we watch her contradictory nature slowly slip into pure self-destruction. Laura Palmer tells James (the worst!) at one point that he doesn't really know her, and we finally see just how little anyone in town knew her suffering. Whether with copious amounts of cocaine, sex with strangers, or crying jags, it's no wonder she wanted to blot herself out.

The emphasis on the horror and trauma of the incest/rape leaves little room for that aforementioned humor: most of the Twin Peaks residents who do appear (the Log Lady in one scene, James and Bobby, etc) feel superfluous to this story (which is probably why Lynch cut so many of their scenes and subplots out of the film).

I also feel like I have a much better understanding of what Lynch might be referring to when he says Fire holds the key to the new season. Below, I've put some notes for those who don't have the time or inclination to watch the film:

• The first third of the movie is both the most superfluous and also the most fun. It's like a parallel universe to Twin Peaks, filled with similarly grotesque locals and idyllic locations for pine tree cutting. Anyone going into a theater expecting to learn about Laura Palmer's life or what was going on with Cooper must have been deeply weirded out when they instead followed Agent Chris Isaak (who looked a little like a less scruffy Billy Eichner here) and Agent Jack Bauer (bookish and bowtied) as they investigate the murder of drifter and teenage prostitute Teresa Banks in Oregon. The dialogue is a bit flatter ("Wanna hear about our specials? We don't have any"), but Lynch livens things up with a red headed mime (Cousin Lil) whose gestures offer details about the case.
• Cousin Lil also has a blue rose on; fans speculate the blue rose cases indicate supernatural ones, so I'd expect to see one pop up early on in the new season.
• Here are the three things important about this section: a) Harry Dean Stanton (Cranky Dean Stanton?) shows up as Carl Rodd, the owner of Fat Trout Trailer Park (where Banks, along with the mysterious Chalfont family lived). He'll be back in the new season, possibly because... b) Agent Chris Isaak goes missing while investigating Banks' murder. (After he disappears, "Let's Rock" appears scrawled on his windshield—it's very notable that The Man From Another Place says that line too.) We learn later in the movie that Banks was killed by BOB-as-Leland Palmer. Among her missing possession is a particular green ring... c) a.k.a. the mystical owl-cave ring of importance. The ring at first seems like it could be a classic McGuffin, but instead it's vital to the supernatural war going on between BOB and MIKE (more on that soon, I swear).
• The ring pops back up throughout the movie, when the One-Armed Man (a.k.a. MIKE) waves it at Laura in a car (in one of the most horrifying scenes in the film) while trying to warn her about BOB. Annie, Cooper and The Man From Another Place all either possess or warn Laura about the ring. Before she died, the One-Armed Man throws it to her and she puts it on, preventing BOB from possessing her, which leads to him murdering her ("He says he wants to be me or he'll kill me"). I have no doubt it will come into play again in the new season.
• So, about BOB, MIKE, and all that supernatural stuff. So many of Lynch's projects rely on feeling out the emotions of a scene, and how it can affect the audience, rather than worrying about the plot in any sort of conscious way (which is how we end up with Bowie ranting about Judy in a southern accent in a scene that never really comes up again). I always took the supernatural elements to be secondary to the overall atmosphere of the show, but in Fire it really all comes together. Essentially, BOB and MIKE are engaged in a mythological spirit war ala Jacob and The Man In Black in Lost (is it really a surprise that Lost had The Black Rock and here we have The Black Lodge?). Except in this case, BOB just wanted to murder people and MIKE, who has found God, wants to stop him (and eat all that delicious Garmonbozia). Also important: The Man From Another Place might be the real form of MIKE (he refers to himself as The Arm, they talk in unison at the end to BOB). Some of the other seemingly supernatural creatures (Mrs. Chalfont and her grandson, most prominently) seem to be trying to warn Laura and stop BOB as well. And they all hang out in the Black Lodge, which we are undoubtedly revisiting come Sunday.
• I would argue that one doesn't need to literally understand every interaction and obscure gesture between these creatures, but they do seem to hold together. If you want to learn more about them as I did, I greatly suggest you watch a few of the video explainers below.

• Random things that happen in Fire that are of very little importance to the new season but I still feel need to be acknowledged here: Bobby randomly kills and buries a cocaine dealer; Jacques says "I'm as blank as a fart;" Canada is depicted as a giant demonic brothel; Laura does a lot of cocaine right before bed, which seems wasteful; and I still can't fathom why anyone would ever date Leo Johnson.
• Also: between the Meals on Wheels visits, tutoring various locals, going to school, making out with her two boyfriends, participating in cocaine deals, writing in her secret diary, having introspective talks with Donna, and being a prostitute at night, Laura Palmer has very impressive time management skills.

• The final 15 minutes or so of the movie turn into a nearly wordless coda culminating in an orgy, then rape, then the gruesome murder of Laura by her father. Cooper finds her in the Red Room, and seems to comfort her, as her pain gives way to acceptance, relief, and the first tears that don't feel like agony. It's unclear when this takes place exactly though: is this after Coop got trapped there by BOB? It's also unclear how Annie's warning to Laura, when she visits her in a dream, will affect things as well: "My name is Annie, and I've been with Laura and Dale. The good Dale is in the Lodge, and he can't leave. Write it in your diary." Even though Heather Graham, who plays Annie, says she isn't in the new season, it's hard to imagine this thread won't be picked up in some way.
• Lastly, I still have no idea what the Bowie scene, the Judy reference, and the monkey (yes, a monkey pops up at least two or three times throughout the film) have to do with anything. Some things really aren't meant to be understood literally.