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LISTcavage: 10 Thoughts On the 'Breaking Bad' Pilot

By Adam Vitcavage

I’m sure you’ve heard by now that "Breaking Bad" is celebrating its ten year anniversary since premiering on AMC. Jan. 20, 2008 feels so long ago. George W. Bush was still president. John Edwards was still technically in the running for the Democratic nomination and Hillary Clinton was six months from withdrawing. Apparently, our current president had a daily talk show on the radio that ended in 2008.

I’ve seen every episode of the groundbreaking series exactly once. Needless to say it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Walter White in his tightie-whities. It wasn’t even really on my radar for an anniversary until I was listening to Chris Ryan and Andy Greenwald on The Watch podcast. Greenwald swooned over the series and how it changed the TV landscape. I won’t ruin the duo’s views and legitimately am endorsing listening to their recent episode (same goes for TV Avalanche from Uproxx).

I decided to give a half-list slash half-review of the critically acclaimed pilot. How much do I actually remember? Not much. So, buckle up into the RV and let’s head to Albuquerque.

  1. That in medium res opening lasts a mere four minutes and builds so much tension it hurts. Knowing the evil Walter becomes makes his earnest videotaped confession/love note to his wife extra delectable. He only had her in his heart. That’s true at the beginning of this show, but definitely not by the end of season five. He’s so pathetically impotent that it’s really hard to believe he becomes Ozymandias, King of Kings.
  2. Ugh! That opening credit song. How did "Breaking Bad" get everything right? It’s just not fair.
  3. The characterization of the main cast is perfectly nailed in the first 30 seconds of each character’s scene. Skylar is domineering and controlling. Walt Jr. is a smartass. Marie is jealous. Hank is his job. There was only one ending for Hank from the moment we meet him.
  4. There was a lot more buildup to the revelation of his cancer diagnosis. It was never rushed and Vince Gilligan gave Walt room to breathe as the character’s true self before having his world flip. Most poorly executed pilots would push the hospital visit earlier and have a character scrambling the rest of the first act. But those first twenty or so minutes are the only time we really get a feel for Walter White.
  5. I live for Walter’s first outburst. “Fuck you and your eyebrows” and “Wipe down this” are really the first showing of the wrath of Heisenberg. They’re such memorable lines because they’re so out of character. He’s so non-threatening that it’s funny.
  6. I knew Walter first saw Jesse right after the meth house bust, but I forgot about Aaron Paul’s ass falling off the roof. It’s just another example of a primo setup for who this character becomes. It’s worth rewinding a few times. And that misdirect of him actually being “Captain Crunch” was a perfect beat within that scene. Seriously, Gilligan is a genius.
  7. The chemistry—I don’t even hate myself for this pun—between Walt and Jesse is undeniable from the first handful of scenes between the two. It’s amazing that the writer’s strike saved Pinkman’s life. Also, they say the title of the show at around 36 minutes!
  8. I was always annoyed with how little Walt Jr. got to do throughout the series. His character didn’t need to have much to do, but a personal preference would have been more father/son time to show the dichotomy between Walt’s relationship with him and Jesse. But how Walt protects his son in the clothing store is probably my favorite moment of the pilot. So “Cat’s in the Cradle” of me, I know.
  9. One of the best aspects of "Breaking Bad" is its slow burn. The pilot is no different, but it does know how to throw in a bang. That build up of sirens in the opening pays off with such a sigh of relief, head scratch, and soft chuckle. Gilligan managed to made me go “of course” without it feeling so obvious.
  10. Walt revealing that he has cancer to Skylar while in bed with her in the final moments, but instead being sexually assertive was the only way to come full circle with who Walt was and who he is now. He still has a hell of a journey ahead of him, but even his wife knows something has changed. After all, she has the final question of the episode, “Walt, is that you?” No, Skylar, the Walt you knew is already gone. The one who knocks is coming.

‘Twin Peaks’ Recap: Parts 14 & 15

norma&ed_part15.jpg

By Caitlin Malcuit

Parts 14 and 15 together make for a poignant two hours, running down the list to check off a host of emotions. You’ve got heartbreak, you’ve got grief, you’ve got delight—rollercoaster sure does work as a metaphor here, because the lump in your throat and tears in your eyes are physical reminders of mortality. It’s red curtains for all of us, eventually.

Part 14: I Cannes Dream about You

The fine folks of the Twin Peaks Sherriff’s Department and the FBI bring each other up to speed on their respective storylines, but not before Gordon Cole nearly deafens Lucy with his shouting. Frank Truman reveals they have the missing pages of Laura Palmer’s diary and that there may be two Coopers out in the wild.

Albert elaborates on the Blue Rose nomenclature to Tammie; the case of origin involved a woman named Lois Duffy, who shot her doppelganger. The double, with her dying breath, utters, “I’m like the Blue Rose.” Agent Preston observes that such a color rose does not occur in nature—the fake Duffy was “a tulpa”—a manifestation of Lois, separate from her own consciousness. We, the audience, slowly realize this conceit indulges Lynch’s passion for transcendental meditation.

Diane is questioned about her last encounter with Cooper to see if Major Briggs ever came up in conversation. She claims that he did not, and learns about the ring found in Briggs’ stomach. Turns out Janey-E is Diane’s half-sister, who lives in Las Vegas with her husband Douglas Jones. They do not get along. In turn, Cole gets Las Vegas agents Wilson (Owain Rhys Davies) and Headley (Jay R. Ferguson) on the horn, asking them to round up Dougie and Jane.

Cole loudly announces to his colleagues that, “Last night, I had another Monica Bellucci dream.” Yeah, honest-to-god, it’s Monica Bellucci, even more cryptic here than she was in “The Matrix: Reloaded.” In his dream, Cole joined Bellucci and her friends for coffee at a Parisian café. Dale Cooper materialized, his face indistinguishable. Monica woefully recites a philosophical text: "We are like the dreamer who dreams, and then lives inside the dream. But who is the dreamer?" Cole is compelled to look behind him, following his companion’s gaze, and sees his younger self. This triggered a memory of Phillip Jeffries sudden reappearance in “Fire Walk with Me.”

Deputy Chad runs out of opportunities to sneak in conference room lunches when he’s arrested by his co-workers, who have their lunch on the table, taunting him.

Bobby, Hawk, Andy, and Frank head to the forest and Jack Rabbit’s Palace, coming upon a clearing with fog swirling about. A young woman’s body lies on the ground, but she’s still alive. Her face is eyeless; this is the woman who helped Cooper escape his interdimensional limbo. As 2:53 hits, a vortex appears in the sky, all staring at it—only Andy disappears. He drops in to the black and white from the premiere. The giant arrives, projecting a brief film that shows Andy the creation of BOB, Laura, as well as Cooper and his evil double. The vortex disappears as the sheriff’s team snap out of their daze. Andy reappears with the young woman in his arms. Our usually cyclical, repetitive deputy lays down the facts: the tall man is called the Fireman, who explained the woman is very important, and people want her dead.

Lucy and Andy get Naido (per the credits) set up with nice cozy pajamas and keep her in a cell, where Chad and a bloodied drunk also sit. Naido starts clicking and cooing, and the drunk grunts as well. Chad screams at them to shut up to no avail, and starts mocking them with ape sounds before he screams.

James Hurley, taking a break from his security detail at the Great Northern, shoots the shit with his coworker Freddie (Jake Wardle), obliterating walnuts with his grip. They’re heading to the Roadhouse for James’ birthday, but James has another b-day request: the story behind Freddie’s green, rubber-gloved right hand.

After a night of drinking at a London pub, Freddie was compelled to tackle a stack of boxes in an alley. But once he jumped, he levitated. Like Andy, he saw a vortex and was dropped into the Fireman’s room. Freddie was instructed to stop in a hardware store and pick up a lone green rubber glove that would grant him staggering strength. From there, he’d travel to Twin Peaks to seek his destiny. The clerk didn’t want to sell an opened package with a single item, but Freddie paid and decked the clerk, breaking the guy’s neck. The glove wouldn’t come off even with a doctor’s assistance. Freddie figured he’d head to Twin Peaks, but to his surprise, his plane ticket had already been purchased.

James decides to check out a noise in the hotel boiler room, but we’re spared a Winkie’s jump scare and instead find Sarah Palmer depositing herself at the Elk’s Point #9 Bar to get her Bloody Mary fix. A trucker zeroes in on her, but Sarah’s not amused by his (un)smooth talk. The jerk keeps hounding her, escalating with threats, but Sarah does him one better: she pulls off her face. The trucker stares in horror into a dark void as a floating mouth sasses, “Are you sure you want to fuck with this?” She fixes her face back in place and rips out the trucker’s throat. He drops to the floor as Sarah campaigns for an Emmy, acting as if she’s mortified. The bartender thinks something is fishy, but she icily replies, “Sure is a mystery, huh?”

At the Roadhouse, we’re back to another mystery: Where the hell is Billy? Megan (Shane Lynch) chats with her friend Sophie (Emily Stofle) about his last-known whereabouts. Megan and her mother caught sight of him in their yard, frightening them both. He dashed into their kitchen, bleeding from his mouth and nose before taking off again. Sophie’s face and the music darkens as she asks, “What’s your mother’s name?” “Tina,” Megan replies.

Part 15: Lights Out

Golden shovel in hand, Nadine Hurley marches down the highway and stops at Big Ed’s Gas Farm. Following her conversation with Dr. Jacoby, Nadine tells Ed that she came to a realization: she’s changed. She loves Ed so much, but, as she puts it, “I’ve been a selfish bitch to you all these years, and you’ve been a saint.” Nadine knows that Ed always pined for Norma, but kept them apart out of spite, taking advantage of her husband’s guilt. She just wants him to be free and gives her blessing to the couple. After one last embrace, Nadine swings her shovel over her shoulder, strutting out into the sunset.

Ed, overcome with newfound freedom, bolts to the Double R Diner as Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” swells, probably the best, most breathtaking musical moment of the show. He rushes up to Norma, telling her everything’s changed, that they’re free to be together. For the Double R’s owner, that’s great and all…but Walter’s here. Ed’s face drops, and so do our hearts. He slumps onto a stool as Norma tells her beau that she’s selling the franchise to him, holding on to the original location. The regulars are her family, and she wants to take care of them. Walter storms off.

Ed sits in silence—practicing his Transcendental Meditation® Technique, no doubt—but Norma’s hand slides over his shoulder. He swivels around and they hold one another, together at long last. Ed says, “Marry me,” to which Norma smiles, “Of course I will,” as Shelly warmly looks on, coffee carafe in hand.

Mr. C arrives at the Convenience Store. Led by a Woodsman to the floral wallpapered space Cole saw in his vortex trip, they venture to a new realm beyond the store: a motel. A woman with a shadowed face brings Mr. C to Philip Jeffries, occupying the form of a large steam teapot-type machine. C wants to know if he sent Ray to kill him—Jeffries did not call Ray, and never spoke to the doppelganger five days prior because he doesn’t have Mr. C’s number. The conversation steers toward someone named Judy, first mentioned by Jeffries back in the 1989 FBI HQ incident. C wants to know who Judy is, but the teapot claims they’ve already met. Jeffries knows her whereabouts, however, and spouts out coordinates via steam signal. He fades away, leaving Mr. C to answer a telephone, teleporting him back outside.

Cooper’s double is greeted by Richard Horne, pistol drawn. Richard says he recognized Mr. C back at the Over the Top farm. His mom had a picture of him in his FBI glory. “Who’s your mom?” Mr. C asks. Richard answers, “Audrey Horne.” Ruh-roh!

Mr. C beats and disarms Richard for threatening him, then makes the young man enter the truck. They’ll chat when they ride. Practicing driver safety, C shoots off a text that reads, “Las Vegas?”

In the forests of Twin Peaks, Steven Burnett and Gersten Hayward clutch each other under a large tree, the former twitchy from his high. He loads a gun to Gersten’s dismay, threatening suicide because his life is a mess. The pair are discovered by a man (Mark Frost) walking his dog, and Gersten scurries off, clutching her head as she hears a gunshot. The man walks back to his home at the Fat Trout Trailer Park, telling Carl what he saw.

At the Roadhouse, James and Freddie enjoy their night out when they spot Renee (Jessica Szohr), the crier at James’ show. Hurley the younger dares to say hello, and is promptly hassled by her husband Chuck. For some reason, James blurts out that he likes her, taking a punch to the face in kind. Chuck and his pal gang up on James and Freddie steps in, striking the men with his gloved hand. This lands the bullies in intensive care, James and Freddie in a jail cell, and starts another howling session in the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department.

In Las Vegas, Agent Wilson rounds up the wrong Dougie and Jane Jones. Todd Duncan asks his assistant Roger to find Tony Sinclair, but both are shot to death by Chantal. One down, one to go, she tells Hutch.

The true Cooper gets a piece of chocolate cake from Janey-E, enjoying it along with an airing of “Sunset Boulevard.” The mention of character Gordon Cole causes Cooper to pause the film in shock. His eyes are drawn to the electrical outlet on the wall and he crawls toward it, fork outstretched. He inserts the handle into the socket, blowing out the power as Janey-E screams in fright. 

The Log Lady calls Hawk once more to let her old friend know that she’s dying. She knows that it’s her time, but there’s always room for a little fear. Margaret and Hawk have a shared knowledge though, that death is “just a change, not an end.” They exchange their final good nights, and, after Hawk hangs up, a good-bye, Margaret. 

Audrey Horne has made it as far as the foyer of her home where Charlie waits. He’s even ready to go, coat on and all! Audrey still experiences periodic dissociative spells, blinking in confusion. It’s almost as if she can’t head out the door, descending into a pissing match with Charlie. He threatens to take off his coat and just forget about going to the Roadhouse (he’s still so, so sleepy, after all). Audrey feels like she’s meeting a different person, demanding to know who he is. Charlie sighs, removes his coat and plops on the couch. Ms. Horne can’t take it anymore, and rushes at Charlie and chokes him.

So they don’t make it to the Roadhouse. Ruby (Charlyne Yi) sits slumped in a booth to check out The Veils’ performance. Two bikers approach, but she says she’s waiting for someone. They lift Ruby up and set her on the floor. She crawls through the crowd, screaming violently as the concert comes to a close.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 12 Recap: The Ex-Files

By Caitlin Malcuit

The circular conversations and repetitions that fill “Twin Peaks: The Return” wrings out every last drop of patience that the audience can endure. We wait and wait and wait, but when we get something new, what a slap in the face it is. After all, things can happen!

Agent Preston is officially welcomed into the ranks of the Blue Rose Task Force. Albert explains to her it stemmed from Project Blue Book, the U.S. Air Force’s UFO study. Spearheaded by Philip Jeffries, agents Chester Desmond, Dale Cooper, and Albert were chosen to investigate the cases that Blue Book couldn’t answer—Albert wryly notes that he’s the only one of the group who hasn’t disappeared. Despite Gordon Cole’s reluctance to bring new folks into the fold, they think Preston’s got the right stuff. Diane enters through the red drapes of the den and is deputized to assist, because they really need her, and doesn’t she want to know what happened to her dear friend Cooper? After a moment, Diane pierces through the silence by wagging a two-finger salute: “Let’s rock.”

Diane is still under suspicion: she receives a text asking, “Las Vegas?” and replies, “THEY HAVEN’T ASKED YET.” Albert intercepts the message. This brings him to Cole, regaling a French woman with FBI tales. She exits after what feels like an eternity, but for all of the waiting David Lynch has us endure, this feels like the moment he knew Miguel Ferrer’s time was short. Through a blinking and misting stare, Cole throws his hand on his colleagues shoulder and says, “Albert…sometimes I really worry about you.”

In Twin Peaks, Truman and Hawk make separate visits to town denizens. The Sheriff has the unpleasant task of telling Ben Horne that his grandson Richard struck and killed the little boy at the crosswalk and is on the run. Miriam, now in intensive care, provided her witness account and awaits surgery. Ben offers his financial assistance to cover her medical expenses, as well as Cooper’s old Great Northern hotel key as a memento for the ailing Harry Truman.

Hawk stops at Sarah Palmer’s house after a breakdown in the grocery store. After clearing the Smirnoff stock and picking up a carton of Salems, the sight of brand new turkey jerky sets her off. Sarah screams at the clerks that men are coming and they have to watch out. This is enough to warrant a well-being check. A large thump rattles the Palmer house (and liquor bottles), and when Hawk asks if anyone is inside, Sarah says it’s just something in the kitchen. The deputy chief assures Sarah that if she needs help—help of any kind—just call.

Some story threads are condensed in “Part 12:” Cooper plays catch with his face outside with Sonny Jim. Jerry Horne runs through a field and trips. Carl helps out a trailer park resident who’s trying to make ends meet. Chantal and Hutch assassinate the Warden before a trip to Wendy’s.

After another Dr. Amp broadcast, we’re abruptly sent to a study where Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn) stands, scowling at a man behind a desk (Clark Middleton). No longer the mischief-maker-turned-activist, she berates Charlie, her apparent husband, to come with her to the Roadhouse to find a man named Billy. Billy has been missing for two days. Charlie says he’s too tired and has a deadline, but Audrey leans in: she is sleeping with Billy. She even had a dream about him where he bled from his nose and mouth, and sometimes dreams harken a truth! If the Audrey of the original series was like a young Elizabeth Taylor, the Audrey of the return is the Martha to Charlie’s George.

The scene provides a mess of new names. Tina is the last person to see Billy, according to someone named Chuck, but Charlie was supposed to call Tina because Audrey can’t stand her. Chuck also stole Billy’s truck! Anyway, the two are in some sort of contract which Audrey threatens to renege on, and so Charlie calls Tina. He receives horrible news over the phone, but he refuses to share, seemingly at Tina’s behest. Billy, for what it’s worth, may be the farmer who was supposed to meet Andy in “Part 7.” Audrey is grinding her teeth, and ours are worn down to the root.

At the Roadhouse, we don’t see Audrey, but two new women: Natalie (Ana de la Reguera) and Abbie (Elizabeth Anweis). They’re waiting for someone too—their friend Angela. Angela’s going out with Clark, but Clark was seen with Mary. Suddenly, Natalie’s boyfriend Trick (Scott Coffey) dashes into their booth. Someone came at him headlong on the highway and ran him off the road. Could it have been Richard? If it is, he won’t get far—Red will find him and he’ll realize, as Diane did when plugging in the coordinates, all roads lead to Twin Peaks.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 11 Recap: Crust Desserts

By Caitlin Malcuit

During a game of catch, a boy goes to retrieve the ball he misses and hollers that he sees a body. But that body is moving—it’s a bloodied Miriam Sullivan, dragging herself through the woods. Her survival— one people hoped for, but couldn’t be certain of—is one of many pins and needles that “The Return” keeps sticking into the audience this week.

We witness Becky Burnett’s bug-eyed, crackling rage as she learns over the phone that her no-good husband Stephen is up to no good with another woman. Without a car, she begs Shelly for help once again, so her mother dashes out of the RR Diner. For her trouble, Shelly is flung off the hood after trying to stop her pistol-armed daughter from doing anything stupid.

Carl Rodd sees Shelly in distress and summons his VW shuttle express with an alphorn-like whistle to hitch a ride to town. He also has the Twin Peaks police dispatch at his disposal, contacting them via CB radio to get a direct patch through to Deputy Briggs—Becky’s dad. Carl’s consistently a badass.

In Buckhorn, South Dakota, the FBI crew checks out the sight of Major Briggs’ secret interdimensional hideaway. Diane hangs back, helping herself to a cigarette as per usual. Hastings, from the back of Detective Macklay’s cruiser, guides Tammy to the precise portal opening, but exhales sharply when he spies a Woodsman sneaking around the dilapidated shacks. Albert and Gordon also see the phantom, and press on through the fence.

Gordon steps up to the spot, his vision becoming distorted with licks of flame and blurs as the sky opens up in a tornadic swirl. To the others, it merely looks as if he’s raising his arms to the sky, but Gordon sees more: a stairwell appears, and a row of Woodsman are lined up, staring back. A crackle of electricity intensifies, but Albert pulls Gordon back in time. In a clearing to their right, there lies the body of Ruth Davenport.

Diane catches a glimpse of the Woodsmen while the others photograph the corpse, opting to stay quiet while she watches it slip through the cruiser unnoticed. Hastings cringes in pain with the sound of a crunch, and Macklay is sprayed with the result. The detective calls for backup and Diane peers through the windshield. “There’s no backup for this,” she says.

Because she left some extra peepholes in the other woman’s door, Becky’s parents sit her down to discuss an out from her marriage. Red crashes the family meeting to Shelly’s delight, and she pops outside to see him as Bobby looks on with a hangdog expression. While she’s trying to get her kid out of a bad situation, Shelly’s falling back into old habits herself by necking with a new bad boy.

Gunfire breaks the awkward tension as it hits the RR Diner. Bobby runs to investigate the commotion. A woman shouts down her hunting-fatigues clad husband for leaving a gun in the car, which his identically dress son found and shot out from the minivan window. Bobby empties the gun as the child stares him down like he doesn’t give a shit (his father doesn’t either, apparently). The car behind them honks incessantly, so when Bobby attempts to calm the driver down, she verbally honks that they’re late for dinner and an unseen “she” is sick—and “she” really is. A child in the passenger seat slowly rises, arms out like a zombie, vomit sputtering out of her mouth. The driver screams as Bobby stares dumbfounded. This just ain’t his day.

Hawk and Truman, back at the station, look over a magic map that always stays current, matching it to Major Briggs’ cryptic note. Hawk notes fire and corn stalk symbols to Truman—fire can be good or bad, depending upon its intention, but it’s not traditional fire either. It’s more like modern-day electricity. The corn stalks are blackened, signaling disease as opposed to healthy, fertile corn. The two come together to form black fire. Truman asks about the winged circle symbol at the map’s top, but is told that it’s something he doesn’t ever want to know about. The Log Lady calls as well, warning Hawk that there’s fire where he is going.

In South Dakota, Gordon tries to steady his left hand, now shaking after his experience in the portal. He requests to see the photos of Ruth’s arm, and more specifically, the coordinates written on it. Albert brings out the image, catching Diane mouthing the numbers to herself. The last few digits are smudged, but Albert doesn’t finish revealing where the initial set lead to before Macklay and Tammy appear with coffee and doughnuts.

In Las Vegas, Cooper barely absorbs the update that the insurance claim on the Mitchum brothers’ property is the real deal and that he, the lucky son of a gun, gets to break the news and a $30 million check to the fellas! As it turns out, the Mitchums have already requested a meeting with “Dougie,” thanks to Tony’s machinations, and want to take the agent out to dinner. Upon the 5:30 pickup time, the One-Armed Man beckons Cooper into Szymon’s coffee shop and he leaves with a cardboard box.

Of course, the Mitchums have other plans. Bradley talks with Rodney over their 2:23 p.m. breakfast about a dream he had. At first, Bradley’s anxious to cap Dougie, but as the time nears, the dream becomes clearer. He has reservations; after all, Ike “The Spike” is out of the way because of Dougie. Rodney calls bullshit, but Bradley insists that, in the dream, Rodney’s cut from the fly incident healed up. The bandage is ripped off—the cut is gone.

When Cooper arrives, Bradley freaks out over the sight of the cardboard box. He pleads with Rodney that they cannot kill Cooper if a certain item is inside, whispering the contents to his brother out of the agent’s earshot. Rodney confronts Cooper at gunpoint, demanding to know if a cherry pie is in fact in the box. It is so—Bradley’s vision is confirmed to be more pleasant than the ending of “Se7en,” and a frisking reveals the check for $30 million. Belushi’s stellar performance here is starting to make me forget about “According to Jim.” Almost.

The ecstatic Mitchums take their new best friend out to dinner, where they enjoy champagne and some “damn good” pie. Just as a note from the restaurant piano stirs a glimmer of recollection, Cooper is thanked by the other Silver Mustang winner. The former slot machine addict, cleaned up and reunited with her long lost son, smooches her dear Mr. Jackpots for having changed her life for the better, letting the brothers know that a very special man is in their presence. Here’s hoping he gets to turn things around for the town of Twin Peaks, and fast.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 10 Recap: We’re Up All Night to Get Lucky

By Caitlin Malcuit

Two prestige shows featured cameos by pasty musicians: “Game of Thrones” had Ed Sheeran, and “Twin Peaks” had Moby. That’s it—recap over.

Just kidding! Anyway, the brutality shifts from Las Vegas to Twin Peaks for an hour full of violence, suspicion, and visions.

We knew Richard Horne wasn’t above manslaughter, but he moves up to second-degree murder when he pays a visit to jovial schoolteacher Miriam at her trailer. She stares out defiantly through her screen door; his opposing reflection brings to mind the flashes of demonic killer BOB in mirrors. Miriam has told the police about the crosswalk accident, but is surprised that Richard hasn’t been arrested yet—it’s likely she told Deputy Chad, who would remain purposefully tightlipped. So, she sent a letter this very day to Sheriff Truman, telling him everything she knows, adding that if anything happens to her, it was Richard who did it. Richard rushes the trailer and brutally beats Miriam off-screen while he calls Chad to intercept the letter.

Fat Trout proprietor Carl strums his guitar until he’s interrupted by a shattered window, followed by screaming. “What a fucking nightmare,” he mutters before we find out the domestic situation inside: Steven Bennett, no longer so mellow from his cocaine high, berates and beats Becky. This echoes her mother’s old life with abusive ex-husband Leo.

In Vegas, Rodney Mitchum (Robert Knepper), last seen beating the Silver Mustang supervisor, is on the receiving end of pain himself when moll Candie (Amy Shiels) wallops him with a remote to kill a fly. After her protracted determination to swat the thing, she collapses into a hysterical mess, where Jim Belushi’s Bradley Mitchum enters and all jabber over one another like a scene from a screwball comedy. They settle down to watch the news, finding out Ike "The Spike" Stadtler was arrested and that his dispatcher “Dougie Jones” was their very own Mr. Jackpots.

As the Mitchums plot to meet with their winner, Duncan Todd summons a visitor to his desk: Tony Sinclair. The physically imposing Tony is putty in Duncan’s hands, obliging when told not to sit, not to speak. Mr. C’s treatment of Duncan is now transposed onto the insurance agent. The plan is to have Tony meet with the Mitchum brothers and convince them that Dougie Jones is the one caused their $30 million arson claim to be turned down. Furious, they’ll likely kill him. If not, Tony has to take care of Dougie himself.

Meanwhile, with a day off, Janey-E manages to get her “husband” into the doctor’s office for a checkup. Fascinated by his patient’s physical improvements, the doctor overlooks Cooper’s vacant replies. Janey-E practically has throbbing hearts in her eyes when she catches sight of his abs. Once they’re home, Cooper’s wife-but-not-really digs her shoes into the floor in an amorous daze, somehow convincing him to have sex. Despite the suspect nature of consent here, Cooper’s arms flail in ecstatic bliss, Janey-E moaning loud enough to wake her kid. But the sex isn’t enough to bring the agent out of his fugue.

In Buckhorn, Gordon Cole and Tammy Preston spy Albert dining with coroner Talbot, perhaps bonding over their shared ability to conduct autopsies. Albert later stops by Cole’s hotel room, but as soon as he opens the door, Cole is greeted with a vision of Laura Palmer sobbing in the doorway. He shakes it off, and Albert reveals that Diane’s text from Mr. C pinged off a tower in Philly, but Tammy traced it to a server in Mexico. She replied, too, “They have Hastings, he’s going to take them to the site.”

Tammy joins her colleagues to show them a photo related to the murder in New York. Mr. C, with an unidentified male, is shown visiting the room with the glass box.

Back in Twin Peaks, Richard continues to raise hell. After Chad successfully intercepts Miriam’s letter from the mail truck—under Lucy’s surveillance—Richard pulls up to his grandmother Sylvia’s house to grab money before he high tails it out of town. He chokes a safe combination out of Sylvia before he robs her of cash, silver, and her purse. She later calls her estranged husband Ben at the Great Northern Hotel, looking to be compensated for her ordeal, but he refuses. Ben hangs up, and in his frustration, asks assistant Beverly out to dinner.

Hawk receives another late-night call from The Log Lady, imparting a cryptic message:

“Hawk. Electricity is humming. You hear it in the mountains and rivers. You see it dance among the seas and stars and glowing around the moon, but in these days, the glow is dying. What will be in the darkness that remains? The Truman brothers are both true men. They are your brothers. And the others, the good ones, who have been with you. Now the circle is almost complete. Watch and listen to the dream of time and space. It all comes out now, flowing like a river. That which is and is not. Hawk. Laura is the one.”

She hasn’t steered him wrong yet! Does this mean that The Bookhouse Boys will get back together? The dream of time and space sounds not unlike Laura’s birth in Part 8. At the Roadhouse, Rebekah Del Rio closes out with the Lynch-penned “No Stars,” with Moby here on guitar. She sings “My dream is to go to that place/You know the one/Where it all began.” Perhaps the Boys will get to that place…whether it’s the Black or White Lodge remains to be seen.

P.S. Nadine finally did it. She figured out how to make silent curtain runners. There’s a retail location, too: Run Silent, Run Drapes.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Park 9 Recap: You’re Gonna Have Yourself a SCUB-y Snack

By Caitlin Malcuit

All of the dots begin to connect in “Twin Peaks: The Return” Part 9, the true-blue halfway point of this run. And like any good “Blue Rose” case, this episode all comes back to a body.

Mr. C, recovered from his ambush by Ray, comes upon a red bandana on a post and makes his way to a farm where Chantal (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and Hutch (Tim Roth) are waiting. They’ve dispatched the home owners and hook Mr. C up with a new truck and weapons while he catches up on his correspondence. First, he makes a call to Duncan Todd at the Silver Mustang, asking if he’s “done it yet,” then sends a cryptic text that reads, “Around the dinner table, the conversation is lively.” Mr. C tells Pumpkin, uh, Hutch to take care of a warden, with a “double-header” to follow in Vegas, and heads off after a smooch from Chantal.

On the FBI jet, Gordon et al. receive a call that diverts their return trip to Philadelphia. Col. Davis tells them the Buckhorn morgue has Major Briggs’ body. So off to West South Dakota they go. Already frustrated that she can’t check her phone, Diane needs some bribing with nips. Gordon also fields a call from Warden Murphy. Cooper escaped, causing Gordon to exclaim, “Cooper flew the coop!”

“Dougie” and Janey-E sit patiently in the Las Vegas police department, where Dougie’s boss talks with the three Detective Fuscos about his employee. Mullins tells them that Dougie has spacey moments following a car accident in his past, but otherwise isn’t sure why someone would attempt to kill him, being a “solid citizen” and all. Upon Mullins’ departure, one Fusco reveals that no info on Dougie Jones prior to 1997, leading them to float the witness protection program as a possible answer.  

David Koechner’s Fusco has an idea. He gives Cooper a new mug of coffee, and bags the old cup for DNA testing. The cop who has to log the evidence also lets the crew know that the would-be assassin is their old adversary Ike “The Spike” Stadtler, and they have his location (it ain’t the Waldorf). Meanwhile, Agent Cooper fixates on an American flag in the corner, then a woman walking by in red shoes, who guides his gaze to an outlet on the wall.

In Buckhorn, Diane waits in the morgue lobby, furious that she can’t smoke a cigarette there, because of all places! But she finally has a signal. It’s Mr. C’s text. Detective Mackley summarizes the murder from the premiere, noting that the deceased librarian Ruth Davenport ran a blog with her suspected killer William Hastings (Matthew Lillard) about alternate dimensions. In the morgue, Constance Talbot reveals Briggs’ body to Gordon, Albert, and Preston with a smirk and her magician’s flourish. Albert observes the paradoxical age of the body, and Talbot’s mischievous smile widens. There’s an adorable spark between the two—Talbot holds her own against Albert’s acerbic commentary ("When did he lose his marbles?” "When the dog got his cat's-eyes"). The mortician also shows off the inscribed mystery wedding band, and Gordon decides that they need a sit-down with Hastings.

Following the revelation that Cooper was the last person to see his dad alive, Bobby Briggs takes Deputy Hawk and Sheriff Truman to his mother’s house. Betty Briggs reveals that Major Garland said that one day, the trio would come and ask her about Special Agent Dale Cooper. He requested that she give them a special item, so Betty moves to a red arm chair and removes a small metallic tube from a secret opening in the frame. She tells her son that his father always had faith in him, knowing that Bobby would come a long way from his brooding teenage days.

At the station, Truman and Hawk haplessly try to figure out the tube as Bobby chuckles, because he knows how it works. They step outside, and Bobby throws the tube to the ground. It reverberates with a hum and then quiets, prompting Bobby to chuck again. Inside the tube is a slip of paper instructing the reader to head 253 yards east of “Jack Rabbit’s Palace,” with a specific time (2:53) and dates (10/1, 10/2) listed. Jack Rabbit’s Palace was Bobby’s make-believe hideaway during his youth. Truman realizes that Major Briggs really foresaw all of this, and makes a plan to head to the area. However, he uncovers another slip, showing a series of numbers and slashes, with “Cooper/Cooper” amongst them. “Two Coopers!” Hawk exclaims.

Back in Buckhorn, Agent Preston has a face-to-face with Will Hastings, who breaks down as he details the findings of his blog. He and Ruth visited another place where they came upon Major Briggs, who told the pair that he was in “hibernation.” Lillard’s performance here makes a strong case for an Emmy nomination, as he fluctuates between his impassioned recounting of supernatural trips and sobbing over a vacation he wanted to take with Ruth. Hastings says that the Major requested a set of coordinates, which Ruth took down on her hand—which is attached to her missing torso. When Hastings and Ruth returned to the alternate dimension, it seems the Woodsmen of the last episode descended upon them, decapitating Briggs, murdering Ruth and coercing Hasting’s wife’s name by force. Successfully picking the Major’s face out of a series of photos that Preston gives, Hastings says Briggs’ head ascended, uttering, “Cooper, Cooper” before disappearing.

In Twin Peaks, Jerry Horne is still stuck in the woods, imagining—or not—his foot talking back to him. His brother Ben still hears a mesmerizing hum in his office as Beverly attempts to seize a romantic moment, but he turns her down. Ben’s son escapes his room and collides with the wall. Naturally, we end at the Roadhouse, where Sky Ferreira continues her 2017 acting streak as the track-marked, rotten-toothed Ella. She scratches a horrendous rash under her arm while bitching to her friend Chloe that she was fired from burger-flipping for being high. But damn, that rash won’t quit, even with the melodic voices of Au Revoir Simone to soothe.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 8 Recap: Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper

By Caitlin Malcuit

If this wasn’t one of the most beautiful and harrowing hours of television, David Lynch wouldn’t be doing right by us. And amid the visual wildin’, we got some real, honest-to-god answers in Part 8 that led to—wait for it—more questions.

Dark Cooper and Ray (George Griffith), on the road after their prison escape, discover three mobile tracking devices on their car. They pass it off to the license plate of a truck ahead of them, and Cooper chucks the receiver out of the window. Ray, putting on airs of gratitude, thanks Coop for getting him out of the pen. He asks after Darya’s whereabouts, probably knowing that she’s dead, and asks where they’re going. “You’d probably like to go to that place they call ‘The Farm,’” says Cooper. He cuts through the shit immediately, telling Ray that he has something he wants. Ray says yes, he’s got it memorized—all the numbers. Naturally, Ray tries to extort Cooper in exchange for this information.

Cooper wants Ray to pull off the highway, and they follow the curves of the darkened road and the increasingly busted chevron signs, headlights dimly bearing down on the darkness in that true Lynchian dolor. Ray pulls over to relieve himself, and Cooper riffles through the glove compartment to grab a loaded handgun and hold his companion up. But Ray whips out his gun—no, not that one—and slugs Cooper with a few bullets ‘till he’s down.

The moment is cathartic for milliseconds before lights flash and sooty, ghostly figures mob Dark Cooper’s body and flail around Ray. The ghosts tear at Cooper’s body, patting his corpse to resuscitate, smearing blood from his torso to his face. Stuck in his horror, Ray watches as a tumorous blob rises from the body, revealing the grinning visage of BOB. He scrambles back to the car and jets, leaving Phillip Jeffries a voicemail saying that Cooper may have survived, but he saw something inside—“It may be the key to what this is all about.” Ding-ding-ding-ding!

“The Nine Inch Nails” play the Roadhouse with the appropriately discordant track “She’s Gone Away.” (Lynch and Trent Reznor collaborated on “Lost Highway”). Dark Cooper snaps awake as the music seizes.

Following the muted blues of the night drive, the show takes us to the black-and-white frame of White Sands, New Mexico in the early morning hours of July 16, 1945. A voice over a PA counts down, marshalling the flash of the first atomic bomb as Penderecki’s “Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima” pierces our ears and sends us on a 10-minute visual journey through the Brakhage-esque flickers and vapors of time and space. We see the ashen ghosts spill out from a gas station convenience store, and we also see the creature from the glass box spew out the blob that contains the demonic entity of BOB.

Upon a cliff surrounded by crashing waves sits a smooth, metallic building. Inside, the Giant and a woman named Senorita Dido (Joy Nash) play back the events following the explosion. They create a golden orb in response to BOB’s arrival, an orb with the face of Laura Palmer. Dido christens her with a kiss and sends her off to Earth to oppose the evil that stemmed from man’s hubris.

On August 5, 1956, in the New Mexico desert, an egg hatches and out crawls a creature akin to a frog and insect hybrid. Two young people (Xolo Maridueña and Tikaeni Faircrest) walk home in the night, because that always bodes well. As the evening grows darker, the coal-blackened—or uranium-burned, perhaps—ghosts prowl the arid landscape. One, called the Woodsman (Robert Broski), approaches a concerned couple in a car with his cigarette, telephone wires crackling around him. He asks over and over, “Got a light?” in a guttural sizzle that sounds as if tuning fork rolled through tar. The couple drive off screaming.

As the ‘50s boy drops the ‘50s girl safely to her home, the Woodsman approaches radio station KPJK. He enters as they spin The Platters’ “My Prayer,” crushing the receptionist’s head in his hand before storming into the DJ booth. The Woodsman seizes control of the microphone and repeats, “This is the water and this is the well. Drink full and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes and dark within,” over and over, causing any listeners to fall unconscious. Among them is the young girl, whose mouth drops open right in time for the creature to crawl right in for a tasty late-night snack. The Woodsman wraps up his time at the station, crushing the MC’s head before disappearing into the desert’s abyss, distant horses neighing in a frenzy.

See you in two weeks!

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 7 Recap: A Little Ditty ‘Bout Coop and Diane

By Caitlin Malcuit

In one of his dictograph monologues, Cooper recites to his off-screen secretary, “The trail narrows, Diane. I'm close, but the last few steps are always the darkest and most difficult.” He records this when the mystery of Laura Palmer’s death comes to a head, but the reveal of her killer ultimately causes the trail to widen. It veers off into multiple paths even all these years later, complex and overwhelming like the choking overgrowth of the Washington state forest bed. Welcome to Act II of “Twin Peaks: The Return.”

At the sheriff’s department, Hawk shows Frank Truman the pages yanked from the bathroom stall—they are indeed the missing pages from Laura Palmer’s secret diary that chronicled her long-suffering teenage years at the mercy of BOB. One page in particular details a dream she had of Annie Blackburn (Heather Graham—not resurfacing this season), foreseeing Cooper’s entrapment in the Black Lodge. Hawk can’t figure out how or why the pages got to the police station, but knows only a handful of people saw Cooper when he came out of the woods in the last series’ finale, including Harry Truman and Doc Hayward.

Frank tries to bring his brother up to speed over the phone, but he’s far too sick to sit through the call (Michael Ontkean, like Graham, opted not to return). Next on the list is Doc Hayward; Frank dials him up on Skype after twisting a pine knot, raising his desktop monitor through his desk. Hayward, played by Mark Frost’s late father Warren, remembers the night Cooper came back well, saying that he acted mighty strange the next morning, especially after he snuck out of intensive care in full dress. The Doc recalls seeing a strange face form on Cooper’s own visage.

In South Dakota, Lt. Knox (Adele Rene) is surprised to find that the hit on Major Briggs’ prints actually led to a body. Just when it seems clear that the body is Briggs, the coroner mentions that the corpse is only in its late 40s (Briggs would really be in his late 70s).

The FBI crew also jet back to South Dakota after Gordon and Albert plead with Diane (Laura Dern) to take a look at the guy in federal custody. Ten minutes, tops, are all she’ll give Cooper, she says, and with great anxiety, she raises the partition. Diane stands to face “Cooper,” who claims it’s good to see her again. She leans in, asking when the last time they saw each other was. “At your house,” he answers, but does he really remember that night? Diane says it’s one she’ll never forget. We’ve never known the extent of her and Cooper’s relationship beyond his tapes, romantic or otherwise. But Diane is the closest audience surrogate we have while Dale is in catatonia. She bellows, “Who are you?” at the weathered, soulless face of Bad Dale. She knows, like we do, that there’s a problem. Diane tells Gordon that man was not the Cooper she knows—it’s not time passing, change, or the way he looks—it’s something “here,” she cries, motioning to her heart.

Bad Cooper has a way of getting to people, and that’s certainly the case when he wants to chat with Warden Murphy (James Morrison). “Cooper” has dirt on him involving the dog leg, a mistress, and a man named Joe McCluskey, so the warden caves quickly in supplying a cheap rental car and the release of Ray Monroe rather than let face his own demons.

Speaking of cheap cars, Dougie Jones’ now-charred vehicle draws the attention of local law enforcement. Janey-E strolls in to pick up her husband, and guides Cooper through the questioning. The car was missing, yes, but it was found. It blew up and there are multiple fatalities, and that’s all Janey-E needs to know or care about because she’s out stressed enough as it is, goddamn it! She and her husband have to go home to their son, and he’s waiting for supper. As the pair leave Lucky 7 Insurance, the assassin who ice-picked Lorraine last week charges at Cooper with a gun. Cooper’s agent instincts kick in as he dispatches Ike “The Spike” in short order, judo-chopping his would-be killer’s throat as Janey-E pulls him off.

As Cooper comes closer to returning, Twin Peaks walks us through the town’s parallel inscrutables. Deputy Andy meets with the true owner of the truck that Richard drove during the accident; Jean-Michel Renault of the Bang! Bang! Bar keeps his family’s brothel business running; Ben Horne’s probably going to end up having an affair with his assistant Beverly (Ashley Judd). Like Ben’s brother Jerry, we may be lost in the woods and not know where we are (“I think I’m high!"), but the trail will narrow again.

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‘Twin Peaks’ Part 5 Recap: Shovel Yourself Out of the Shit

By Caitlin Malcuit

After two consecutive weeks of doubleheaders where just so much happens, we finally come to the part where not a whole hell of a lot happens in “Twin Peaks.” Almost a third of the way in, Part 5 doesn’t stray too terribly far from the arcs in motion, as it inches toward gathering more pieces of this seasons’ mystery. But it’s okay because this is, in David Lynch’s grand scheme, an 18-hour movie.

At the Rancho Rosa development in Las Vegas, Dougie’s abandoned car still sits, unexploded from the car bomb attached by the two goons who tried to cap him earlier. The assassins check in, reporting over the phone that the car’s still there, no lights are on in the house. On the other line, Lorraine (Tammie Baird) swears at them, anxious that she’s going to be killed over this botched job. She slams the phone down and texts “Argent” to a black box that rings out into a dim basement.

Poor Cooper has to face the 9-5 slog in his garish, oversized lime sport coat, as Janey-E gives him a ride to work. As she ties his tie, Janey-E goes over the logistics of paying their debt, but Coop’s not listening. He catches a glimpse of a vacant Sonny Jim Jones staring out, which causes Cooper’s face to soften and a tear to roll down his face. The music here is reminiscent of the “Twin Peaks” theme, coming in on a light and airy breeze as if Cooper seemingly rediscovers a message he once transcribed to his trusty Diane: “At a time like this, curiously, you begin to think of the things regret or the things you might miss.”

Cooper staggers to work, perplexed by brass statue of a cowboy pointing a gun. He also points, still in mimic mode, and heads off into the direction of the big glass building in front of him. At the elevator bank, Cooper follows a coffee-gophering colleague like a cartoon hovers after the aroma of a pie on a windowsill. He’s clamoring for the stuff, bogarts someone else’s cup and sucks it down like a baby drinks a bottle. He enters Lucky 7 Insurance.

Inside, coworker Tony, played by real-life bad person Tom Sizemore, tells “Dougie” that he’s covered his ass while he was on his three-day bender. Frank, who’s coffee was stolen, gets a green tea latte instead. He likes it!

At the meeting, a green light flickers on Tony’s face as they go over an insurance claim, saying it’s a legitimate. Cooper exclaims, “He’s lying,” which causes tension because it turns out Tony’s a star agent. This leads to a talking-to by the boss, which triggers some vague recollection on Cooper’s part when he hears “agent” and “case files,” the latter of which he gets a load to work on as punishment.

More happens in Vegas. At the Silver Mustang Casino, Supervisor Burns gets the ever-loving shit kicked out of him by brothers Bradley (Jim Belushi) and Rodney Mitchum (Robert Knepper), no doubt a nod to Robert Mitchum. Dougie’s car explodes after some punks try to steal it.

In Blackhorn, South Dakota, coroner Constance Talbot (Jane Adams) determines the cause of death of the headless John Doe body found with the head of librarian Ruth Davenport: someone cut his head off! “Here’s the headline,” she deadpans, because Constance is still doing stand-up on the weekends. She has much better material than the pilot of “I’m Dying Up Here” did. Anyway, the man hasn’t eaten for days, but she found a ring. It’s inscribed with the message, “To Dougie, with love, Janey-E.”

At the prison, bad Cooper takes a good long look in the mirror as his black-pupiled, soulless visage gives way to the visual confirmation that BOB in indeed in the body, and “that’s good.”

A drop of Cooper’s room key to a mailbox brings us back to Twin Peaks and the sunny delights of the RR Diner, where a young woman named Becky enters (Amanda Seyfried, also known for playing a dead girl on “Veronica Mars”). She some cash from Shelley as Norma Jennings (Peggy Lipton) watches with concern. “If you don’t help her now, it’s going to get a lot harder later.” Shelly concedes, “We both know that, don’t we,” as they were two members of the rotten husbands’ club.

Becky’s hops into her boyfriend’s car, a weasel shit named Steven (Caleb Landry Jones) who bombed his interview earlier in the day. The camera fixes itself on the dashboard, echoing Shelley and Bobby’s romance in the 1990 pilot. Steven takes out a vial of coke that he’s mostly finished, but despite her scolding, Becky helps herself to a little anyway. We’re plunged into Becky’s ecstasy in a fish eye and saturated shot as the tune of ‘60s tune “I Love How You Love Me” lilts around her.

We’re treated to the sight of Dr. Jacoby, who now has a public access television show as Dr. Amp, bellowing, “It’s seven o’clock, do you know where your freedom is?” He’s lighting the lamp of freedom, literally a diorama lamp with the Statue of Liberty—it’s like if Infowars was charming. Among his viewers are Jerry Horne lighting up, eye-patched Nadine (Wendy Robie) smiling. Jacoby flips to a pre-taped segment of himself shoveling out of literal shit, hawking his supply of gold shit-digging shovels. Only $29.99!

Some of the shit Twin Peaks has to shovel out if is its cocaine problem, perhaps buoyed by the new troublemaker sitting in the Bang! Bang! Bar. Smoking under a “No Smoking” sign, a young man (Eamon Farren) is warned to cut it out until Deputy Chad of the TPPD—who made fun of the Log Lady’s prophecy last week—steps in, assuring the bar staff that he’ll take it from here. Chad smirks and asks for a smoke; the young man offers the whole pack, popped open to reveal a wad of cash. This intrigues a group of women, and one, Charlotte, asks for a light. The young man tells her to sit down, and as she does, he grabs and starts to choke and harass her. It’s a wildly uncomfortable scene, punctuated by the honking saxophone pulsing through the club, and another pang that this show isn’t always so good to women.

At the Pentagon, Colonel Davis (Ernie Hudson!) is told that they’ve got another database hit on fingerprints for Major Garland Briggs from the police in Buckhorn, South Dakota. All signs point to the John Doe’s body belonging to Briggs. Davis is wary—this is the sixteenth hit on the prints in 25 years—but if it pans out, the FBI has to know.

In Buckhorn, Evil Dale Cooper gets one phone call, but is aware that he’s being taped. Staring at his captors through the camera, he darkly declares, “I know who to call,” as he punches the numbers. Soon, the prison is plunged into chaos, alarms blaring, lights flashing. Amid the cacophony, Bad Cooper says, ”The cow jumped over the moon,” and hangs up, ending the discord.  

In Buenos Aires, an Edison bulb lights the dingy dark basement. The camera pans down to the black box. It beeps twice, then shrinks. 

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'Twin Peaks' Parts 3 and 4 Recap: Doughnut Disturb

doughnut.PNG

By Caitlin Malcuit

Parts 3 and 4 of “Twin Peaks” were immediately available for streaming on the premiere date, probably to sweeten the pot for the folks who weren’t enjoying the abject gloom that permeated the first two episodes. If your last experience with the show was like mine, you wrapped up by watching “Fire Walk with Me,” and you were tonally prepared for the turn into the “Mulholland Drive” murk. Even though David Lynch and Mark Frost couldn’t help but play up the nostalgia of the lighter moments, it’s still a heartwarming reminder of the show’s sweetness. As these parts stand, they are a Dale Cooper triptych: the man himself is at the center, and those who love him wait in the wings.

We last left Coop falling through the chevron floor of the Black Lodge, into the glass box, then back through stars and darkness. He winds up on the balcony of a building floating through space above an ocean. The set is a gorgeous stylistic piece, tinged like a hand-colored print, all motion made into stilted flickers of a silent film. Cooper descends into the shack, finding a woman in a red dress with no eyes, gesturing wildly to the agent to decipher the fixtures and numbers on the wall. A horrific pounding frightens the woman into shushing him. They scramble to the roof, where the eyeless woman pulls a lever—she’s electrocuted and thrown out into the abyss. As Dale looks out, we see a vision of Major Garland Briggs’ (the late Don S. Davis) head float into view, calling out, “Blue rose.”

Cooper returns inside, and finds another woman in a red cardigan and eyes. She warns Coop about the pounding—that’s her mother, and sounds like a gem—so Cooper is ushered back to the real world via an outlet with the knowledge that “when you get there, you will already be there.”

As he’s pulled into reality, we’re introduced to a third version of the agent, Las Vegas cornball Dougie Jones. He’s apparently some earthly placeholder that will help to let Coop out of the Lodge—think of the bag of sand swapped out for the golden idol in “Raiders”—or is a plant by BOB to keep from going back. Dougie leaves behind a gross vomit pile of corn before Cooper forms in place next to it. All the while, BOB is sickened by this disruption and crashes his ride.

Cooper is now occupying Dougie’s life in a catatonic state. Those who think the agent is Dougie fill in the blanks for Coop. Prostitute Jade (Nafessa Williams) sets him up with a ride to the Silver Mustang Casino and five bucks to “call for help.” An associate (Ethan Suplee) and his girlfriend suggest Dougie head home to Lancelot Court with “the big red door,” where harried casino supervisor Burns (Brett Gelman) gladly sends him after netting a windfall on the slots. He falls further down the rabbit hole at home. Cooper inherits Dougie’s domestic life in the form of wife Janey-E, played with perfect anxious energy by Naomi Watts, and kid Sonny-Jim (Pierce Gagnon). Here, a vision of MIKE meets him upon waking in a familiar set of blue pajamas. Cooper was tricked, and both Cooper and BOB cannot exist in the same plane. One of them has to die.

Back in Twin Peaks, Deputy Chief Hawk gets down to business. He hangs up a Doughnut Disturb sign, and turns to old evidence from the Laura Palmer case sprawled out on the table. Something is missing, and he doesn’t know what—a chocolate bunny is literally missing, thanks to Lucy, but it’s not about the bunny. It’s here at the police department that we meet the new sheriff, Harry Truman’s brother Frank (Robert Forster). It’s through Frank that we learn Lucy doesn’t quite have the hang of cell phones yet, and that bad-boy Bobby Briggs is now a deputy. When Bobby enters the meeting, he spies Laura’s prom photo on the table, her theme swells, and he breaks into uncontrollable sobs over the old memories. It’s a cheeky callback to the breakdown everyone had in the pilot. When he hears what the deal is, Bobby reveals Dale Cooper was the last person to see his father alive.

In Philadelphia, Gordon Cole, Special Agent Albert Rosenfield (Miguel Ferrer) and Special Agent Tamara Preston (Chrysta Bell) take a look at the gruesome remains of glass box-watcher Sam Colby (Ben Rosenfield) and girlfriend Tracey Barberato (Madeline Zima). No one knows the identity of the mysterious billionaire box-owner, but the meeting is interrupted by a call. Cooper’s been found in the Black Hills.

Before they depart, viewers get to see another familiar face. Cole meets with Denise Bryson (David Duchovny), now in the lofty role of FBI Chief of Staff. She questions Cole’s intentions in bringing Agent Preston along, because Cole’s probably being a bit of a lech, but the scene left us with some lovely words of wisdom. He asks for a little faith in choosing Preston, because back when she needed someone to take a chance, Cole told Denise’s colleagues, “those clown comics, to fix their hearts or die.”

Once in North Dakota, Albert, Cole and Preston meet with “Cooper.” BOB’s been scooped up from his accident, having been found with a weapon, a stash of cocaine, and a dog’s leg. The partition between agents real and not raises, and the doppelganger playing a sorry imitation of the good Dale gives a forced thumbs-up and requests to be debriefed as soon as possible. The story is that he has been undercover all these years in tandem with the long-lost Phillip Jeffries and was driving to Philadelphia to follow up. The contrast between the Coopers is stark here: even in his daze, good Dale retains his childlike wonderment at all he encounters; bad Dale is like making Bernie Lomax dance at a party.

The alarm bells don’t go unnoticed, at least, so Albert and Cole take their conversation outside. Preston notes that Cooper was heading west, not to Pennsylvania. Albert reveals that he authorized Phillip Jeffries to give Cooper some information, thinking it’d get Cooper out of trouble—this led to an agent’s death in Columbia. They both agree that something isn’t right. “I don’t understand this situation at all,” says Cole. Albert brings us full circle, sighing, “Blue rose.”

They’re going to need one person to take a good look at Cooper before they move forward, and while Albert says he doesn’t know where she lives, he know where she drinks—The Bang Bang Bar, where Au Revoir Simone close with “Lark.”

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The Time Presents Itself: 'Twin Peaks' Premiere Is A Beautiful/Terrible Nightmare

By Caitlin Malcuit

For the return of “Twin Peaks”—sorry, “Twin Peaks: The Return”—to feel like a waking nightmare couldn’t come at a more prescient moment. Perhaps, to prepare, you buzz at the small pleasure of a slice of cherry pie and cup of black coffee at 9 p.m. But by 11, those treats all sit in the pit of your stomach, churning in an acidic swirl of red and black. It feels like the evil that seeped out of the Black Lodge, smothering more lives in more places with some insidious smog. Time and narrative don’t feel so linear or certain. What the fuck do we know about anything anymore?

The two-part premiere looks and feels like the whiplash fever dream of a David Lynch feature, but the crack-of-the-neck twists unfold in excruciating slow motion. A looming dread, twitchy apparitions, and pulsing sound design may feel more at home in “Silent Hill” or “Jacob’s Ladder” than what “Twin Peaks” fans are used to. The knowing kitsch of the former incarnation is 25 years in the past, and the present is the gritty, slow-burn of prestige drama that everyone cribbed from Lynch anyway. That’s not to say we don’t encounter aesthetic mainstays—the title theme sweeps over white water and rushing waterfalls until the Red Room bleeds into frame. And that’s where we find Agent Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) once again.

Following the replay of Cooper’s dream, Dale and the Giant (Carel Struycken) sit in crisp black and white. The latter implores Agent Cooper to “listen to the sounds” of a scratchy, crackling phonograph. “It is in our house now,” the Giant warns. “It is?” asks Cooper. The Giant replies, “It all cannot be said aloud now. Remember 430. Richard and Linda, two birds with one stone.” I understand says Cooper, even if we don’t. Yet.

For now, the Black Lodge is where Cooper stays. BOB, possessing our beloved agent’s body, roams free to terrorize mortals, grizzled and hardened, his hair a greasy mop with an equally greasy snakeskin dress shirt and leather jacket. His is a world not of diner pies and donuts, but the seedy, steamy underbelly of South Dakota’s rolling plains. BOB machinates the breakdown of high school principal Bill Hastings (Matthew Lillard), philandering with Ruth Davenport, the librarian who he’s now accused of killing. Bill’s predicament echoes that of Leland Palmer, whose poor, wretched soul we glimpse in the Lodge.

South Dakota isn’t the only new stopover we make in this return. In Las Vegas, a businessman hands over a bundle of cash and requests that his subordinate Roger “tell her she has the job.” In a New York City warehouse, a young man watches an empty glass box, seeing nothing until he sees something, all right. These new times, places, and faces channel Lynch’s creeping, anxiety-wrought approach to horror in “The Return,” punching you in the face before waltzing your numbed body around the living room.

There are some chisels taken to this darkness, however. They’re found in the familiar faces of Twin Peaks, population 51,201. The man who lifts his dark shades to show off his signature red and blue glasses? Dr. Jacoby (Russ Tamblyn) is roughing it in the woods now, accepting a delivery of shovels instead of tropical tchotchkes. Andy (Harry Goaz) and Lucy (Kimmy Robertson) are still together, and their now-adult child shares a birthday with Marlon Brando. Ben Horne (Richard Beymer) is still parked behind his desk at the Great Northern Hotel, while his brother Jerry (David Patrick Kelly) is all about edibles. These moments are few and far between, and for a brief while, we feel certain again.  

Staring down the uncertainty is Chief Deputy Hawk (Michael Horse), who fields a call from the Log Lady, Margaret. Played by the late Catherine E. Coulson, Margaret lets Hawk know her log has a message to share. “Something is missing, and you have to find it.” Hawk knows that he and the log are on the same page, but the poignancy isn’t in the potential that they’ll get Cooper back. No, it’s that final goodnight that Margaret bids Hawk, done in the quiet, human charm that “Twin Peaks” does so well. The heart aches to see Coulson say goodnight when she truly means goodbye.

Finally, what would “Twin Peaks” be without a stop at the roadhouse? We find Shelly (Madchen Amick) having a girls’ night out as James (James Marshall) strolls in, making flirty eye contact with one of her pals. Another friend says he’s weird (she’s right), but Shelly defends him, saying James “has always been cool” (he’s not). They all smile sweetly at one another, while a stranger (Balthazar Getty) directs a finger gun and a wink at the former Mrs. Johnson. For now, everyone is having a good time as the Chromatics sing us out with their new track “Shadows”—The Bang Bang Bar will have a host of rotating guest performances for this season. For now, it’s a welcome respite from the menace of the last two hours. It’s like having the most beautiful dream and the most terrible nightmare, all at once.

Full Television Archive

There's Always Music in the Air: Revisiting the 'Twin Peaks' Soundtrack

By Caitlin Malcuit

“Each day, once a day, give yourself a present.”

That’s the advice Agent Dale Cooper gives to Sheriff Harry S. Truman, the original “Treat Yo Self” for those who never deny themselves the chance to indulge. And if you’re planning to sate your “Twin Peaks” craving before the welcome return to Showtime on May 21, it’s worth revisiting one of the gifts left behind from the series’ original run.

“Soundtrack from Twin Peaks” remains a triumph of the ambient genre, all at once mastering atmosphere and soapy melodrama in its concise 11-track package. This is all thanks to frequent David Lynch collaborator Angelo Badalamenti—with some touches from Lynch, of course, because he can’t help himself. Badalamenti’s dirge-like synths, finger-snaps, and ample use of cymbal brushes are a hallmark of “Twin Peaks” sound, forging the mood for the misty treetops and seedy secrets of the titular Pacific-Northwest town.

“The bass synth plunks away at your brain, and spurs on a sudden craving for doughnuts and coffee.”

A majority of the record features the show’s instrumentals and character themes, with three vocal tracks from dream-pop siren Julee Cruise. It opens, natch, with “Twin Peaks Theme.” The bass synth plunks away at your brain, and spurs on a sudden craving for doughnuts and coffee as it layers with the lighter refrain, just before moving on to the requiem of “Laura Palmer’s Theme.” The former netted Badalamenti a Grammy for Best Pop Instrumental Performance in 1990.

“Audrey’s Dance” is a slinky, hypnotic work that tells you how peculiar the show really can be, even when divorced from the contextual scene. “Dance” puts you on edge, but you’ll want to sidle up to the jukebox all sexy-like, too. It works well as a companion to “Dance of the Dream Man.” Though a little more accessible as a stand-alone jazz piece, it’s still “off” enough to unnerve you with the screeching sax.

As for the vocal performances, Julee Cruise works beautifully with Badalamenti; he tempered her belting abilities down to the gauzy assonance we now know and love. Cruise also makes a few appearances on screen as the Roadhouse Singer, punctuating action with her ethereal voice. But you get the chance to enjoy the full length versions here. Mellow and prayerful lullaby “Into the Night,” which plays on a vinyl in an abandoned cabin, benefits from a complete listen. “Falling” is just “Twin Peaks Theme” with lyrics, but the reverb on Cruise’s voice serves as a nice compliment to the eerie ambience instead of sounding pasted on. “The Nightingale” is a gooey-eyed malt shop slow dance that sonically matches the contemporary 1950s aesthetic of the show.

If “Soundtrack from Twin Peaks” wasn’t just Season 1 material, then the biggest crime would be the absence of Season 2 feature “The World Spins.” However, that emotional gut-punch of a track is best savored in the moment. It’s another Julee Cruise song, but “The World Spins” and the other vocals can be found on her record “Floating into the Night.“ Consider it a bonus!

So grab a cup of coffee—Agent Cooper takes his black, by the way—and enjoy the gift of one of the best soundtracks to grace television. I’ll see you again later in May.

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Why You Should Be Watching Amazon’s ‘Patriot’

By Dave Pezza

For those of you not aware, Amazon’s pilot process encourages television writers and directors to create a pilot episode. Amazon then makes those pilots available to the public via Amazon Prime Video. Depending on the success or popularity of a pilot, Amazon either picks up a series or doesn’t.

One recently successful example is “Patriot,” a series created and set in 2015 during the Iranian presidential election, but created in its entirety over the last two years. Amazon has hit an extremely poignant tone with this show. Created and largely directed by Steven Conrad, best known for writing “The Pursuit of Happyness” and “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,” “Patriot” follows CIA agent John Tavner, played by Michael Dorman, as he attempts to buy the Iranian presidential election and stop a potentially nuclear capable Iran. 

The operation, spearheaded by John’s CIA handler and father Tom Tavner, isn’t exactly on the books. Without direct approval from his superiors, Tom entrusts his son to complete the low-key mission by taking a NOC (non-official cover) position with a piping company called McMillan. McMillan is one of a handful of companies in the field that conducts business with in the country of Luxembourg, part of the few European countries to conduct business with Iran at the time. John’s mission? Over the course of the election cycle, play courier to large sums of money from the United States to Luxembourg where a contact transports the cash to pro-American parties in Iran. Simple enough, right? Not even a little.

As John finds himself waist deep in convoluted shit that has hit the fan, he leans more and more on his crutch, writing and playing folk songs truthfully based on the operations he performs for the U.S. government. With killer performances from Kurtwood Smith (Red Forman in “That 70’s Show”) and Aliette Opheim, a Swedish actress playing the role of Detective Agathe Albans who investigates Tavner’s dealings in Luxembourg, “Patriot” has much more to offer than its John le Carré-like plot. Conrad’s wit comes through in the darkest and heaviest moments, offering a Wes Anderson meets Coen brothers brand of dark, dry comedy that brings everything from chuckles to full blown laughter.

But the show’s best moments transcend plot and humor and strikes the contemporary American with questions of identity and purpose. What does it mean to be an American, to be a good worker, to make art? Can we be all or any of these things, and how does the world respond to the way we conduct ourselves in pursuit of these ideals? “Patriot” attempts these heavy questions in a medium that has your ass hovering above the cushion and your nerves pulsing second by second.

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A Visual Annotation: ‘True Detective’ Season 2 Episode 1

By Dave Pezza

Daniel Ford has wanted me to talk about how I annotate in the margin of books I am currently reading; instead I gave him this—a visual annotation of the first episodes of the second season of “True Detective.” Each post will be my reaction and musings about an episode of true detective.  I've never seen a second of this show before now. So I thought it fitting to start with the second season and work my way backwards.

Books and shows are not about sitting back and being transported into a fake world with fake people with no ties to real life. It’s about conversing with other people as a writer and a reader/watcher. It’s about taking those emotions and observations and processing them into change or knowledge. Annotating has always been my initial response to art. Maybe you’ll like it and maybe you won’t. In either case, here are my thoughts on episode 1 of season 2 of "True Detective." Warning: Spoilers ahead!

All right, so let’s talk about the James Bond-esque opening credits. I want to like it really badly, but I’m not feeling it yet. Although I’m totally going to find the Leonard Cohen song (it’s called “Nevermind”). Writer Nic Pizzolatto throws us right into it; Colin Farrell’s character trying to do right by his probably not son years after his wife was beaten and raped. Pizzolatto is already setting up some good character development devices; here, for instance, where Farrell’s character wants to exchange voice recorders with his son, a sort of audio correspondence. That’ll definitely come in handy for some killer monologue later on (I was right!). I have to admit I love a well worked in monologue. Maybe it’s those Shakespeare classes from college.

Farrell’s character has a gritty feel, a look he’s really good with. But this character seems different, darker than I can ever remember him. Pseudo-dirty cop might seem to on the nose for him, but I already dig it.

Yes! God I am so excited to see Vince Vaughan in this show. He’s the whole reason I decided to check it out. I don’t think for a moment this show is outside of his range. You ever see him as Norman Bates in that remake of Psycho? Creepy as fuck. Pizzolatto decides to give us our first look at Vaughan as not a real, whole villain. He’s helping Farrell out, albeit to get Farrell under the payroll while killing a man in the process. Then again “this filth” did beat and rape Farrell’s wife. And if drama has taught me anything, it’s that singular acts of evil cannot go unpunished, otherwise the framework of the microcosm that the writer has tried to enclose us in totally fails. Vaughn’s wife is a hottie too! I am guessing that’s his weakness, especially since that’s how we are introduced to him, defining Farrell’s wife, a reflection of his relationship with his own wife.

My sense of Vaughn is exactly what Pizzolatto is probably going for: a brooding, serious man who is venturing into something new, laying everything on the line for something grand. Honestly, I think Vaughn’s killing it so far.

Butt stuff! Wow. Really. That’s how we get introduced to Rachel McAdams. Butt stuff. Jesus, HBO. And the over the top effeminate boyfriend to top it off! “Oh, how do we show that a female character is hard? Let’s make her a man.”

And naturally she is paired up with a Hispanic male partner, because you know they go together, because neither of them are white males. Just saying. Pizzolatto seems a little lazy here. And the crazy younger sister is a bit much, maybe not as much as the whacked out, hippie father that named her Antigone, a name which I am supposed to read into more than I will. I hate putting too much stock in character names. No real person has had the luxury of being appropriately named for the poetic circumstances of their life’s drama.

And who is this Paul Walker-looking dude. I’m really not interested in his tacked on story, even though he’s getting one of the top bills. It could be that I’ve just simply gotten tired of the young-white-guy-with-angst-issues character arch. Oh no, does that mean I’m maturing… Ugh, I better pour some more bourbon. Did he take the blowjob, did he not take the blowjob, and I’m supposed to feel sorry for the guy because he has erectile dysfunction? Nah, gimmie more Vaughn…who just stared down some mob attorney like a badass! Now I’m the one with a boner. 

Vaughn is a man keeping it together, slowly coming undone at the seams. I am not sure there is a better way to unleash a villain’s anger throughout a story. And Ferrell is a perfectly foil for Vaughn. A dirty cop at his wick’s end whose sense of right and wrong has him so screwed he’s beating down a reporter and father of a 12-year-old vs. a career criminal who maintains a moral high ground that’s quickly eroding away as he grasps at life in the legitimate. Damn. I just sold myself on this whole season.

I haven’t yet mentioned anything of the plot, but not because it is thin. It’s thin in a good way, the way good noir detective stories should be. There is shit and evil and muck and blurred moral compasses everywhere, but it’s the individual cases and circumstances of these machinations and the men and women who attempt to stop them or cause them that gets me. Plot can be hard-nosed, brittle and difficult to navigate as a writer and reader/watcher, but, when characters are slippery and fickle like real people, they fill in the gaps with their own twists and turns. I’m also glad we are back to hating journalists and have stopped canonizing cops in this show. That’s a world I can only vaguely recall from old movies. I miss it so. Pizzolatto does well there. People can be good and people can be bad, no matter profession or race.

Highlight of the episode is the bar scene between Vaughn and Farrell. They just sit and look at each other for what must have been an hour. The director earned his whole salary right here. I’m terribly impressed with it. Vaughn and Farrell know that their arrangement has grown stale and superficial, and with it their tacit friendship. But it feels like they both so badly want it to endure somehow. That there was something there once, like childhood friends who just don’t get along like they once did. And all of this is beautifully narrated by the folk singer’s song in the back ground. I found this song on the official show soundtrack (which was recorded from scratch) get it, because it is dangerously addictive: "My Least Favorite Life" by Lera Lynn. Interesting tidbit, Lynn was cast to perform the song in the episode.

On the other hand, I’m not sure Pizzolatto nails the ending. I mean it is clear he wants us to see that all these characters are alike and connected in some way. Vaughn and Farrell’s friendship. Vaughn and McAdams with their coffee mug scenes. McAdams and Farrell’s fetish for getting shitfaced on whiskey (join the club). The only one I can’t place is Paul Walker’s look-a-like, other than the fact I’m pretty sure he is shacking up with the missing 24-year-old woman. I guess I have seven more episodes for him. But all in all, Pizzolatto sets the stage pretty well, bringing them all together even with their vastly different jurisdictions.

Line of the Episode: “You ever bully or hurt anyone again, I’ll come back and butt fuck your father with your mom’s headless corpse on the goddamn lawn.”—Ray Velcoro (Colin Farrell)

Why You Should Be Watching HBO’s ‘Sonic Highways’

By Daniel Ford

“It’s not about being perfect. It’s not about sounding absolutely correct, it’s not about what goes on in a computer. It’s about what goes on in here (pointing to his heart) and what goes on in here (pointing to his head).”

I’ve been a fan of Dave Grohl’s ever since he spoke those words at the 54th Annual Grammy Awards in 2012. He confirmed everything I believe about music and writing by taking his industry to task for shitting out over-produced and under-written marketing plans in the guise of hits.

The Foo Fighter’s front man wasn’t being a contrarian just to sell albums or gain a few thousand fans on Twitter. You may not be a fan of his music, but no one can deny Grohl’s sincerity when talking about music. It emanates from him like a thundering drum solo or hard rock guitar lick.

Luckily for fans that enjoy a more analog musical experience, Grohl has been on a documentary kick of late that is nothing short of inspiring. He produced and directed 2013’s “Sound City,” which featured a recording studio in Los Angeles frequented by artists such as Neil Young, Tom Petty, Rick Springfield (who I have a new appreciation for), Fleetwood Mac, and Nirvana (Grohl was the lead drummer for the Kurt Cobain-fronted band) from 1969 until the studio closed in 2011. Whenever a writer’s favorite coffee shop or bar closes down, you don’t expect him or her to purchase a table or stool to keep its memory alive. Well, in addition to making the documentary, Grohl bought the legendary Rupert Neve sound board and installed it in his house. His house.     

I finished “Sound City” and immediately reached for my Moleskin notebook. Watching how influential, experimental, and imperfect art is produced never fails to inspire me to create new worlds in which to torture my main characters. I also went on a music documentary bender that included Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” and “The History of The Eagles.”

I couldn’t have been happier when essayist Dave Pezza informed me that Grohl was taking his documentary skills on the road in HBO’s “Sonic Highways.” The series documents the recording process Grohl and the Foo Fighters embarked on for the band’s eighth studio album. One song was written and recorded in eight recording studios across the United States (four of the songs are currently available on iTunes).

What I love most about the show is that the themes Grohl touched on in his Grammys speech and “Studio City”—the importance of retaining the human element in your work and the art of imperfection—are ingrained in each episode. He doesn’t Grohl doesn’t necessarily focus on the more well-known artists of each city. In particular, the Washington D.C. episode featured an underground punk music scene that I had absolutely no idea existed, which once again proves that society’s good stuff is rarely found on the surface. If you’re a writer who wants to accurately form a believable world in your fiction, you have to know how people around you are reacting to media, music, and information.

In the series’ premiere set in Chicago, Grohl talked to Buddy Guy about his journey to the city and friendship with Muddy Waters. You know what Guy said when they told him to change his name? “Fuck you.” Because that’s what badass writers and musicians do when facing authority. Guy was also so poor at one point; he made music with buttons and string.

Try not getting chills listening to this extended interview with Guy:    

Writing, at its core, is a solitary act. At each stop, Grohl locked himself in a room to hammer out lyrics. However, each city’s stories and characters influenced the words he finally put on the page. You hear Guy’s struggle in Chicago’s white world in “Something From Nothing,” the punk angst of D.C.’s youth in “The Feast and the Famine,” and Nashville’s country music influence in “Congregation.” However, none of these songs are transcendent rock tunes, which proves errant notes, misguided lyrics, and unpolished production all have value in making music listener’s might actually want to hear and share.

I was utterly blown away by the inspirational power of the series’ third installment because I grew up on country music. And I mean real country music, not what Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys called “pop music with a twang.” My mother made sure I had a steady diet of Ronnie Milsap, George Strait Kenny Rogers, Johnny Cash, Rodney Crowell, Dolly Parton, Reba McEntire, Charlie Pride, and Vince Gill as a kid and I believe their storytelling influenced my decision to become a writer. I had chills learning more about Nashville’s history and some of its lesser known acts. Tommy Joe White (who I’d like to narrate my life from now on) delivered a soliloquy on writing and creatively that is one of the best things I’ve heard come out of an artist’s mouth in quite some time:     

“So if you’ve got something in your heart, put it out, ‘cause nobody on this planet has put those words or played that lick before. No matter if it’s bad or good or it sells or don’t sell. You wrote it and you did it. Write what’s in your heart. And if you don’t have something there, maybe you should go back to the cotton fields.”

So, watch the upcoming episode of “Sonic Highways” airing tonight at 11 p.m. on HBO, sit your ass down with your preferred writing instruments, and get to work.

Falling In Love With the Condemned: Discovering "Enlisted"

Enlisted high jinks

Enlisted high jinks

By Sean Tuohy

One day you find the love of your life. He or she has everything you want: brains, looks, and humor. Your friends like him or her and your parents do too.

Perfect, ah?

Well, how about if one day you have to watch him or her get whacked in half by an ax-wielding mad man with too much money. That's exactly what it felt like when I discovered the FOX sitcom “Enlisted.” I fell deeply in love with the show and they canceled it. I finally opened my heart to a new show only to have it smashed to a million pieces. FOX is like a husband in a Lifetime movie. One moment he’s loving and great, giving me great gifts, and telling me I look good in that dress, and the next minute he’s beating me with a broom stick in the bathroom.

To quote Backstreet Boys, quit playing games with my heart, FOX.

Falling in Love

If you haven't seen “Enlisted,” you're missing out on one of the most original comedies to come out this past season. For some reason, FOX decided to bury the show on Friday nights with no lead in. The show followed three brothers who were stationed on the same Army base in Florida. Staff Sergeant Pete Hill—who is played by tons of fun Geoff Stults (not a fat joke)—returns from Afghanistan after punching out a superior officer and placed in charge of a misfit platoon of soldiers.

So the plot line doesn't sound like anything new—we've all see military-based comedies before—but “Enlisted” stands out because of its wit, characters, and, most of all, its heart. It was really easy to fall for the characters that populated the show's world. You rooted for them because they seemed like real people. The jokes were well developed, so you could tell that the writers had fun crafting each line of dialogue. But what really got me was the fact that Peter Hill was dealing with PTSD and that weakness was something that the show was exploring. Given enough time “Enlisted” could have gone to great places with these characters and, because the show was so well written, the audience would have gone with them.

Mad Ax Men

FOX canceled the show because of low ratings. Why did the show get low ratings? Because FOX threw it in to the Friday night death spot. This is not the first time Fox has done this to a good television show. Christopher Titus’ award-winning show “Titus” was all but forgotten by FOX during its third and final season. FOX isn't the only one to employ these tactics, however, FOX seems to act like some an even crazier version of a Roman emperor when it comes to its television shows. If you read Matt DiVenere's piece on the canceled “ Surviving Jack," you see that FOX once again did not give a show a chance before axing it. I don’t work in television, so I am not going to tell FOX what to do, but I would hope that they will see the error in their ways and allow their next batch of freshman shows the chance to grow before cancelling them.

Sad Sean

I discovered "Enlisted" on a boring Sunday and need some background noise. Five minutes later, I was hooked. Something about the writing caught my ear. Writers—well, most writers—know good dialogue when they hear it and I heard plenty of it with "Enlisted." It first comedy since "30 Rock" to make me laugh out loud and truly love the characters. I was on cloud nine with my new show and then I found out that it had been cancelled. Did I treated this the same way I treat all heartbreak? By crying in the shower while eating a candy bar? No, this time I held in my tears and decided to let the writers of "Enlisted" know that they had done a great job via Twitter and then I cried. 

I could sit here and bitch and moan about how FOX screwed a great show (Wait, I kind of just did that) or I could tell you to go watch "Enlisted" by any means necessary because you are going to discover a great show.

I'll be ready with candy bars when you finish.

Set Phasers to Love Me: Saying Good-Bye To ‘Community’

By Daniel Ford

Death has never come easy for NBC’s “Community.”

The show not only had to contend with the constant threat of its own cancellation, but also featured several deaths that the misguided, passionate, weird, contentious, and loveable-despite-themselves band of community college misfits had to wrestle with.

I thought the show was dead when Dan Harmon left. There were three brilliant seasons of television that hardcore fans would forever be happy with and the ratings were such that it seemed cancellation was inevitable.

It was kept alive by NBC. David Guarascio and Moses Port did an admirable job keeping most of the show’s spirit alive in Season 4 under near impossible circumstances. But still, it wasn’t the “Community” that I, or any of its #sixseasonsandamovie-obsessed fans, had grown to love and expect. When the finale of that season ended, I figured the show would finally, and deservedly at that point, be put down for good.

I should have known not to count “Community” out. Dan Harmon was even re-hired to run the show’s fifth season. How crazy is that? Was there something mystical in that hashtag that Jedi mind-tricked NBC executives from seeing the abysmal ratings? It’s not that Harmon had a personality transfusion and would now be willing to play nice with others and develop a “normal” show for the network.

The fifth season premiere of “Community,” and the finale that followed, were the closet in execution and spirit to those incredible first three seasons. While the season as a whole was uneven, I appreciated the bonus hours I got to spend at Greendale, a place I had come to inhabit more so than my actual community college in Queens, N.Y.

Season 5 felt like a long good-bye and an attempt by Harmon to right the ship that he had himself capsized. Donald Glover said farewell, choosing his budding rap career over Troy and his river of tears and sissy sneezes. Chevy Chase’s character Pierce made a brief appearance before he also kicked the bucket and joined his mother in that big energon pod in the sky.

Some storylines were resolved. Some weren’t. It ended the way it should have. You can’t argue that the characters are in a better or worse place than when they started. “Community” was at its best when it mirrored the real world (even those episodes that involved zombies or a KFC flight simulator). None of these characters were comfortable in their own skin because their creator has never been comfortable in his own skin. No one should be 100% comfortable in their own skin because real brilliance and creativity comes from grappling with how best to deal with yourself while having to live in the real world. The friends you make along the way—even when they drive you crazy or try to torpedo your game of Dungeons and Dragons—make that journey tolerable and lead to express yourself better than you would alone.

“Community” is dead, but it lived a full life and should be mourned in peace and tranquility, not anger. We’re not in the darkest timeline because that timeline is one in which the show never existed. Five seasons of the show are a gift, one that can easily be enjoyed on multiple platforms for the rest of time.

 As Shirley would say, “That’s nice.”

5 Things You'll Learn By Watching ‘Surviving Jack’

Christoper Meloni in "Surviving Jack"

Christoper Meloni in "Surviving Jack"

By Matt DiVenere

“Surviving Jack” is a funny show starring Christopher Meloni (best known for his role Elliot Stabler on “Law & Order: SVU”) as Jack who takes the lead raising his children while his wife (Rachel Harris) attends law school. Oh, and it takes place in the 1990s.

Do I really need to say more?

Fine, here are five things you learn from watching FOX’s new hilarious comedy “Surviving Jack.”

Christopher Meloni Is The Man

I don’t know how else to explain this one. If you were a fan of him in “SVU” when he was playing a badass cop that took down the worst scum in the universe, all while having a soft side for his family, then jump aboard the bandwagon. Meloni plays a father, Jack Dunlevy, who is put in charge of parenting, while his wife, Joanne, goes back to school in order to become a lawyer.

Well, Meloni’s character clearly isn’t one of the most emotionally-supportive father figures on television. In fact, in the opening scene of the entire show, he makes his son Frankie (Connor Buckley) take a lap around the block for getting caught watching an inappropriate movie at 3 a.m. in the living room. Jack also goes head-to-head with his daughter Rachel (played by Claudia Lee). I suspect more loveably, yet hilariously embarrassing, fathering techniques as the season progresses.

Nostalgia Galore

The music, the clothes, the hairstyles—the 1990s are back! And no, not in some lame VH1 show where they make fun of your obsession with the last really great time period before the Internet ruined everything. Even the theme song and show’s opening clips are so 1990s that it almost hurts to realize where we are as a civilization. But this brings us back to the glory days with very subtle, but awesome 1990s references.

The Inner-Monologue of a Pubescent Male Freshman in High School

Remember when you were outrageously awkward? How about your first high school party? The first time you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your entire high school? Or how about that girl you really liked…do you remember how weird you became the second she started talking to you? What was going through your head? Chances are it’ll be the same exact things going through Frankie’s inner-monologue that narrates the show.

The Writing

Let me word nerd out on you for a second. The writing for this show is fantastic. Granted, it’s based off of the book “I Suck At Girls” written by best-sellers Justin Halpern and Patrick Schumacker, who are both the creators and writers for this show. My hat goes off to both of them, as well as their executive producer Bill Lawrence (“Spin City,” “Scrubs,” “Cougar Town”).

Nonetheless, the dialogue is so conversational that it sounds like actual conversations rather than forced crap that most of the new shows are using. From Jack’s sarcastic and outraged sighs, to Rachel’s overall disdain for her younger brothers’ friends eye-humping her any chance they get—everything is on the money. Even the interactions between Jack and Joanne are tight and serve as a fun reminder that they’re not just parents –they’re a married couple trying to live their lives as normally as possible despite their children’s countless issues.

There’s Always a Lesson To Be Learned

Just like any and every single television show that took place in the 1990s, there is always a lesson to be learned at the end of each episode.

During the show, you tend to learn a whole lot about parenting. These lessons tend to be hilarious ones, such as learning the ground rules of carpooling created by Jack or how excited parents get when their kids are out of the house for the night leaving them alone. However, at the end of the episodes, you learn that despite life’s tough choices and overall relentless attempts to knock you to the ground, the people that love you will always be by your side to pick you back up.

And if that person who is helping you get back up just happens to be holding a glass of scotch in your hand, maybe make sure it’s not a trap before letting them help you up—even if it’s your dad.

Never Human: How Promos Killed (Another) FOX Show

"Stop making shitty television shows and endlessly promoting them Gordon. You're letting the team down."

"Stop making shitty television shows and endlessly promoting them Gordon. You're letting the team down."

By Matt DiVenere

While Sean and Daniel talk about their favorite television shows and how they’ve made an impact on their everyday lives, I’ve decided to instead attack one of the networks.

I’m hoping that this rant can be a PSA to network producers, marketing teams and promotional teams across all of the networks in regards to upcoming television shows. So, without further ado, I give you my conclusion:

The more you try to stuff a new television show down my throat by running multiple promos, the easier you make it for me to actively root against it to succeed.

Case in point, FOX recently cancelled their “new hit show” called “Almost Human.” This science fiction meets crime drama show paired up a police officer (Karl Urban) with a lifelike android/robot (Michael Ealy) as his partner in the distant (kind of) future.

Want to know what I can tell you about the show? The android/robot’s name was Dorian and the cop doesn’t agree with the fact that he needs any type of partner because he’s way too badass to have some drone follow him around and help him.

Want to know why I know only that much? Because I refused to watch it. Not because of the plot, or the actors involved in the project. I mean, J.J. Abrams was one of the executive producers, so it clearly had some strength in the production aspect of the show. Hell, there’s even a petition making waves across the Internet to try and get the SyFy channel to continue the series, so clearly it had some type of following to it.

The reason why I did not watch even a second of this show is because of the putrid performance by FOX’s marketing and promotional team in regards to getting people excited about their new show. FOX force-fed us this show with countless advertisements, promotions, and “behind the scenes” videos on their YouTube channel, they violated the Super Bowl with commercials for the show, and even ran promos during “Almost Human” for “Almost Human.” Talk about overkill.

They didn’t want us to watch, they needed us to watch.

So, instead, I chose to actively root against them. I chose to watch shows on the Animal Planet that I didn’t even think could be a thing, like “Treehouse Masters.” I mean, who builds luxurious tree houses? How rich can you be?

See, this is a real thing.

And if I ever overheard someone talking about "Almost Human," which I didn’t personally, I would like to think I would have chastised them for giving in to this type of network peer pressure. Just from the sheer number of advertisements that were produced for this show, you would have thought it was going to be one of FOX’s biggest hits ever. However, despite their pleas and overall disdain for the common viewer’s retinas, FOX kept cramming it farther and farther into the souls of whoever dared watch any type of programming on FOX.

I'm going to turn my final thoughts for the “Almost Human” marketing and promotional team over to Jack Reilly, head coach of the Minnesota Hawks pee-wee hockey team:

“You could have been one of the greats! An’ now look at yourself. You’re not even a has-been. You’re a never-was.”

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