Peripheral Post #4 - Sebastian

    I found all of the readings this week to be fascinating, and, for whatever reason, they immediately made me think about Twin Peaks. Admittedly, that might just be because Twin Peaks is a) one of less than a half dozen shows that I’ve seen beginning to end, and b) probably the first television show with which I was – for a brief period, at least – truly obsessed. But my relationship with the show aside, I still think Twin Peaks is interesting for the way it problematizes some of the ideas about genre and classification established in this week’s readings. I don’t really have a unified conclusion about this, though. So, instead, I want to look at how each of the readings might inform an attempt to understand Twin Peaks both as a show and as a cultural artifact. 

    1) In “Television Genres as Cultural Categories,” Jason Mittell emphasizes the importance of moving beyond a purely textual approach to studying genre. He contends, “Genres are not intrinsic to texts – they are constituted by the processes that some scholars have labeled ‘external’ elements, such as industrial and audience practices” (Mittell 9-10). But if one were to apply Mittell’s approach to Twin Peaks, one would undoubtedly get contradictory or incomplete results. The show seems to largely be remembered for its mystery and supernatural horror characteristics. Wikipedia describes it as an “American mystery/horror/drama television series” (“Twin Peaks”). Likewise, the packaging for pretty much every DVD and boxset I can find on Amazon leans into the eerie iconography of the woods that surround the town of Twin Peaks as well as the zig-zag floor and red curtains of the extradimensional Black Lodge. But these elements play a surprisingly minor role in the overall show. Instead, the majority of the show is preoccupied with absurd slapstick, convoluted small town drama, and what can only be described as the television equivalent of non sequiturs. While focusing on industrial and audience practices around Twin Peaks is still useful, it also seems to be somewhat limiting. If for nothing else, it seems to necessitate ignoring surprisingly large swaths of the text. Yet, as I will discuss later on, this is a somewhat common theme when it comes to the show – ignoring some parts and emphasizing others for the sake of constructing your own interpretation out of material that practically mocks coherence.

    2) In her essay, “Melodrama, Serial Form and Television Today,” Jane Feuer argues that, even if people are unwilling to admit it, much of serial television is heavily influenced by the narrative structure and style of melodramas, especially soap operas. She further explains that melodramas have been of great interest to feminist scholars because they are defined by excesses that often cannot be contained by the text’s dominant ideology. And, in many ways, this all applies perfectly to Twin Peaks, a show full of excesses. Just as one example, the show often lingers on moments for a little too long, to the point that they become awkward and uncomfortable. I recall watching the pilot episode with an acquaintance and being surprised when she laughed during the scene where a mother and a father learn about the death of their daughter. While that laughter seemed cruel, I also suspect it derived from a place of uncertainty and confusion. When the parents learn about their daughter’s death, the show doesn’t cut away. Instead, the camera lingers and watches as they break down into tears and shrieks of agony. This certainly seems like an example of melodramatic excess, but it leads me to a question: Is the excess in this moment subversive? In other words, is Twin Peaks mocking the overly maudlin nature of television melodramas in this scene? Or is it being so overly sincere that it simply makes spectators – like my acquaintance – uncomfortable? Given how often the show lingers on these sorts of moments, I suspect the latter answer might be truer. 

    Which leads me to another characteristic that Twin Peaks would seem to have in common with the serial dramas described by Feuer. She notes that there is “nothing inherently subversive” about excess (9). Instead, she suggests that what gives melodramas (and, by extension, serial dramas) their subversive potential is their continual open-ended-ness. Feuer writes, “[S]erial form and multiple plot structure appear to give TV melodrama a greater potential for multiple and aberrant readings than do other forms of popular narrative. Since no action is irreversible, every ideological position may be countered by its opposite” (15). In many ways, Twin Peaks exemplifies this mode of storytelling. Season Two concludes with one of the most infamous cliffhangers in television history because ABC refused to renew the show. But despite continued fan interest and engagement, their hopes for a proper resolution have repeatedly been thwarted. A year after the show was initially canceled, co-creator David Lynch released a feature film continuation, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. Rather than resolve the Season Two finale, though, it serves as a prequel and raises even more questions. Meanwhile, the eventual third season, which was released 25-years-later, does tie up some loose ends from Season Two, only to feature an even more bewildering cliffhanger finale. And this time, any form of resolution seems increasingly unlikely. But, once again, Twin Peaks seems to subtly differ from more conventional melodramas and serial dramas in this regard. As Feuer’s essay indicates, a show like Dallas or Dynasty can never truly affirm the sanctity of marriage via a marriage subplot because the marriage is just as liable to end in divorce a few seasons later. The melodrama form ensures that any “resolution” will simply be a future site of conflict and contradiction. And to be certain, Twin Peaks has plenty of contradictions of its own. Nevertheless, its ambiguous cliffhanger endings do seem to serve a thematic function. The “endings” aren’t sites for future conflict. Instead, they are devastating reminders that there is no escape from the cycles of abuse and trauma at the core of show's narrative. 

    3) In “Quality Television, Melodrama and Cultural Complexity,” Michael Kackman contends that the term “quality television” can be understood as a subtle attempt to distance “narratively complex” television shows from the “feminine” form of melodrama. At first glance, Twin Peaks would appear yet again to fit perfectly into this paradigm. Similar to so many other “quality television” shows, Twin Peaks was initially lauded for its cinematic aesthetics and the auteurist influence of its co-creator, David Lynch. It’s “narrative complexity” is also a huge part of what initially hooked audience in the early 1990s. They wanted to see how all of the different plot threads and mysteries would come together and get resolved into a unified whole. As Kackman writes, “[O]ur pleasure in the operational aesthetics doesn’t come simply from observing the workings of a finely crafted watch, but from a sense that the product of its machinery will be something more broadly meaningful – it tells us what time it is.” In other words, audiences appreciate narrative complexity when they believe that it is all adding up to something worthwhile. As I’ve already indicated, I think Twin Peaks does “tell us what time it is”; it is at least trying to express something meaningful about the aforementioned cycles of abuse and trauma. But Kackman’s watch metaphor falls short here because so many of the “cogs” and “gears” seem utterly superfluous or inessential. But which elements are superfluous and which elements are essential is largely open to individual interpretation. In this sense, Twin Peaks functions like a puzzle with an infinite number of right answers. You can combine only the pieces that you care about and discard the rest to make something that is meaningful to you, just as other viewers will combine different pieces to make something that is meaningful to them. If for nothing else, this helps me better understand why the show spoke so deeply to me even when I thought that many of the episodes were disposable or incomprehensible. 

Works Cited

"Twin Peaks." Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twin_Peaks. Accessed 26 March 2021.