Acloudy morning. Seagulls caw; a bell clatters in the distance. The lonesome foghorn blows.
On the beach, inches from the rolling water, lies the body of a young woman.
Dead. Wrapped in plastic.
And so begins the investigation into the mysterious death of homecoming queen Laura Palmer, and the saga of Twin Peaks: the first important TV show of the 1990s, and one that would pave pathways for countless television shows to come.
When it premiered in the spring of 1990, Twin Peaks acted like something of a Trojan horse. Its central murder mystery was what got many viewers hooked as details about the dead girl’s tragic, hidden life came to light, and the list of potential killers seemed to grow every episode. The famous question, “Who killed Laura Palmer?” was one of the show’s greatest tricks: it was a mystery that its co-creators, David Lynch and Mark Frost, had never intended to be solved. That query was only meant to be a launching pad for a series about the otherworldly secrets hidden in a small American town, and the unusual people who inhabited that place.
And oh, what a cast of characters they were! Nestled amidst mountains and forests just a few miles south of the Canadian border, Twin Peaks was a living, breathing community: vibrant, bustling, and more than a little bit strange. It was somewhere a woman who shared secrets with a log wouldn’t draw much attention; where a grieving father’s hair could turn shock white overnight and few would look twice. It was a place you might find a fish in the percolator, and where the owls were not what they seem.
The town of Twin Peaks shared many familiar qualities with places like Mayberry or Bedford Falls, but things were certainly off about it. For all of its wholesome, all-American staples, from the Double R Diner—home of the world’s best cherry pie—to the rusted pumps at Big Ed’s Gas Farm, the town of Twin Peaks was also a gateway to somewhere much darker: a parallel dimension known as the Black Lodge. From here some of Twin Peaks’ most beguiling mysteries spilled forth, particularly in the series’ famous “red room,” where the dead seemed to reappear, and a dwarf spoke not only in riddles—but phonetically backwards. Supernatural evils lurked in the majestic, coniferous forests surrounding Twin Peaks.
“It’s a different world…you’re not in Kansas anymore,” says Kyle MacLachlan, who played FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, a criminal investigator with kooky methods—and a man who lived for a damn good cup of coffee. “We’ve gone into a place that for some people is comfortable, but for other people is discomforting. Without question, it will take you away from what’s happening around you right now. It demands that, and pulls you in.”
“[Twin Peaks] was dripping in mysticism and magic,” says Kimmy Robertson, who played Lucy Moran, the receptionist at Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department. “For anyone who was willing to delve into it, there was more and more of that, the deeper you wanted to go.”
“IT PAVED A COMPLETELY NEW PATH FOR FILMMAKING ON TELEVISION. THERE ARE SO MANY SHOW I STILL SEE THAT ARE FOLLOWING THAT MOLD. WE BROKE OPEN A CHASM.”
- MÄDCHEN AMICK
“There was this sense of wonder, a sense of desire, and a sense of dread and fear,” says Wendy Robie, who played the eyepatch-clad Nadine Hurley. “There were questions without answers…there were these lovely characters, but you go deeper and deeper and there were monsters inside [them].” She continues: “All of the citizens of Twin Peaks—all of these people were all odd and singular. Many were crazy. Tortured, broken, beautiful. And to David Lynch, broken is beautiful. Anyone who sees [Twin Peaks], it moves right into their heart.”
Few involved in the creation of Twin Peaks seemed to expect that the show would even make it to television, let become a pop culture phenomenon. And to be fair to all of the doubters, there was little in David Lynch’s filmography to this point that suggested the surreal, artistic tendencies that his films were famous for would be a sensible fit for the small screen. This was doubly true for network TV, where advertising revenue drove decision-making. That business model demanded populist entertainment which catered to the largest possible audiences, and rarely challenged its viewership.
formed at an odd junction in Lynch’s career. (1986) had just earned him a Best Director Academy Award nomination, and helped put (1984) behind him. However, Lynch was involved in a string of late ’80s projects that repeatedly failed to materialize. One was , a film about Marilyn Monroe that was commissioned and then dropped by Warner Bros.; another was the body-swap comedy , which was slated to star Steve Martin until the studio behind it went bankrupt. Lynch’s screenwriting partner on both of these canceled projects was Mark Frost, who was best known at the time for his work on the acclaimed police procedural .
