- Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me is a David Lynch film. That observation would normally be enough to double as the film's review, but in this particular case I feel compelled to comment further. You see, this film connects to a truly revolutionary television show that, for better or worse, influenced such a diverse set of televised works as X-Files, Northern Exposure, Lost, and pretty much every long-form drama out there. Whether you remember it or not, TV dramas once focused on delivering mostly isolated 45-minute plots rather than a story that spanned an entire season or more. Twin Peaks wasn't the first show to try something different (The Prisoner certainly did it, as did many soap operas), but it is probably the show most identified with transforming television's narrative landscape. Add in the fact that it also brought often excellent cinematography/direction and Lynch's avante-garde weirdness to the small screen, and you have a truly unique influence.
- Which brings us to the movie.
- If you haven't seen the television show, I can't imagine you would enjoy Fire Walk With Me, except perhaps in the way that midnight movies are enjoyed. If you have seen the show, I unfortunately still can't guarantee that you would enjoy this movie. Personally, I think it serves as a mediocre prequel primarily for the show's second season, which steered toward emphasizing horrific and supernatural mysteries. Notably absent from the film, however, are many of the quirky characters and charming small-town antics that made Twin Peaks, particularly in the show's stellar first season, seem like someplace you might actually want to live. In terms we can all appreciate, the first season was like a fresh, sweet slice of cherry pie while the movie is more like a hot, bitter cup of black coffee.
- The story starts off in pleasantly unfamiliar territory as FBI Agents Chester Desmond (Chris Isaak) and Sam Stanley (Kiefer Sutherland) are dispatched by the ever-audible Gordon Cole (David Lynch) to investigate the murder of a girl named Teresa Banks (Pamela Gidley) in rural Washington. Naturally, this assignment is delivered in visual code communicated by a dancing girl (Kimberly Ann Cole), which I assume is just Lynch making fun of himself. The agents encounter various strange locals (Gary Bullock, Rick Aiello, Sandra Kinder, Harry Dean Stanton) before Desmond touches a ring and mysteriously disappears. Meanwhile, Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) worries about a dream he had just as the long-lost Philip Jeffries (David Bowie) briefly materializes with alarming stories of the evils he uncovered in his own investigations. For my money, Jeffries' unexpected appearance is the best part of the film because it represents Lynch's willingness to completely abandon traditional storytelling in the interest of surreal and unforgettable imagery.
- Fast-forward to the town of Twin Peaks some time before the murder of Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee). Folks, things just don't feel like they did in the TV show, and I'm not referring to Laura being alive. For one, Donna is now played by Moira Kelly instead of Lara Flynn Boyle. Pete, Catherine, Josie, Big Ed, Nadine, and all members of the Horne family and Twin Peaks police department are strangely absent. Furthermore, Leo (Eric DaRe), Shelley (Mädchen Amick), Norma (Peggy Lipton), Mike (Gary Hershberger), Annie (Heather Graham), Albert (Miguel Ferrer), and the Log Lady (Catherine Coulson) are relegated to bit parts, leaving primarily the Palmer family (Ray Wise, Grace Zabriskie), Bobby (Dana Ashbrook), James (James Marshall), Ronette (Phoebe Augustine) and Jacques (Walter Olkewicz) to drive the drama. Even the supernatural entities are operating at less than full staff with Al Strobel, Frank Silva, Michael J. Anderson, and Frances Bay reprising their roles, but no sign of the giant or bellhop. If none of these names mean anything to you, this may not be the movie for you.
- But there is a bigger problem at work here that has nothing to do with casting at all. That problem, endemic to so many prequels, is that Laura Palmer's story has already been told. We found out about it in great detail through flashback and stories in the television show, making this retelling largely redundant. Furthermore, Laura's behavior is so unapologetically repellent that it's surprising anybody had anything nice to say about her at the funeral. The only good scenes after we get to Twin Peaks involve the always creepy teamup of Bob and Leland and that eerie magical picture on Laura's wall. Most everything else feels like a march toward the inevitable rendered slightly more tolerable by the ethereal music of Angelo Badalamenti. If you want to visit Twin Peaks for only a couple of hours, may I recommend the pilot episode instead? It's really great, and you learn everything about Laura that you ever wanted to know.
- Jonathan J. Leppell stands in for David Lynch's son as the grandson. The actress who played Heidi is present.
- For the record, I think that monkey says "Judy," but we're not going to talk about Judy.
