A Few Thoughts On TWIN PEAKS, Season 1

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1 OF TWIN PEAKS





Somehow, despite my adoration for the works of David Lynch, I managed to miss watching TWIN PEAKS, his late 80's/early 90's surrealist neo-noir television series. Thankfully, my Amazon Prime account came to the rescue by featuring the first two seasons. After learning this, I just HAD to give them a look.

First, and most reasonably, I started with the first season. The first episode almost lulls one into a false sense of security from that aforementioned surrealist nature with how normal it all seems in its early moments. A young girl is found dead on a lake shore, and the reactions of various townspeople are shown. Normal.

The arrival of FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) pushes it into Lynchian territory, with his constant dictation of current events into a handheld audio recorder, intense fascination with nature, and adoration of pastries and coffee. With that comes another Lynchian trait: a sincere affection for people. Cooper is a methodical man who becomes enamored with the town of Twin Peaks and its citizens, becoming best pals with its sheriff and sometimes going out of his way to help them solve their problems.

I'm going to go on record with saying that Cooper is my favorite character in the show. There's really something to just how much affection he has for the town and its people, along with his willingness to keep an open mind for the more (possibly) supernatural elements at work. There's also the fact that he's just a fantastic investigator, like Sherlock Holmes crossed with James Bond.

The town itself opens up over the course of the season, revealing that nearly everyone had some sort of outrageous skeleton in their closets. Seemingly kind and chaste schoolgirls hide double lives as prostitutes, star quarterbacks work as drug runners, and every other person is sleeping with the other person's spouse. One would almost think it like a soap opera. This is certainly the case as this was also Lynch's take on that particular form of daytime entertainment. I think it lends to his style and desires to explore the dream-like nature of cinema, as soap operas tend to be somewhat dream-like in nature, what with their glossy aesthetic.

When the show dips into its more surrealist aspects, that's when I knew it had me. I mean, I would expect some surrealism. This is David Lynch we're talking about. Yet, its real success is how it all tied together with the greater narrative. Much of the series is made up of the citizens of Twin Peaks confronting hidden (read: subconscious) things. Surrealism deals with the subconscious explored through art. So, we have dreams that have some cryptic relationship to reality (said dreams were had by Agent Cooper), as well as bizarre behavior that never really is explained. This points back to my previous point about Lynch's predilection for cinema's dreamy nature. While there certainly are events in the show that are "real," just as much may only be visions or somewhere in between.

The last thing I want to mention is something that is certainly not the least of things: the music. From the opening theme...

...to the song Donna, James, and Maddy sing...

...to Cooper's theme...

...all of the music leans into a pseudo-1950's aesthetic that Lynch often visits. He often likes to juxtapose that all-American-apple-pie-baseball-GOD-BLESS-AMERICA sense with a darker element. To wit, Twin Peaks seems like a sleepy mountain town, but it really hides incredibly dark secrets. I think this also works with some of the more humorous elements as the mood shifts. Lynch is known for jumping from darkness to light fairly quickly, and in this case he does it (along with his co-showrunner, Mark Frost) with immense skill.

Overall, season one of Twin Peaks seems to be a nearly perfect distillation a Lynchian project. Equal parts creepy and hilarious, it manages to have a massive cast of characters who all get fleshed out in one way or another. While doing all of this, we also get to experience some of the most surreal television ever put to screen. If you have Amazon Prime, I advise you to give it a look. If you don't have that service, get it. It's worth it.

I RECOMMEND: The YouTube Channel of Leonard French, the Copyright Attorney

Though it may not seem it, the more interesting aspects of YouTube lie not in pure video creation, but in the nuts and bolts of the process. There's making sure you're uploading the video in the right format so that time is saved on the upload, being sure you have all of the proper annotations you may need, working on the SEO (Search Engine Optimization) to make sure the tags you apply to the video appear within the first few web searches, as well as applying captions (possibly in multiple languages). Most important, though, are matters of copyright.

Hold on, don't fall asleep yet. I promise, it's far more interesting than you may think.

In my time messing about on YouTube (something I've briefly mentioned here) I've seen a great many issues spring up around copyright and the production of videos. A number of content creators have had run-ins with various individuals claiming that said creators infringed upon some of their material. If not infringement, then possible slander/libel (notable examples include James Stanton aka Jim Sterling VS Digital Homicide, H3H3 aka Ethan and Hila Klein VS Matt Hoss). More often than not, the stakes for these content creators facing legal action are high, as the legal costs alone can bankrupt smaller creators well before any negative verdicts may fall upon them. Considering all of this, it's worthwhile for any content creator to be well aware of the in's-and-out's of copyright issues.

Thankfully, Leonard French's channel exists. While initial consisting of videos of his dog, Cato, eating watermelon, or or a bus slowly destroying a parked BMW's mirrors, he eventually changed his channel from a more private one to more of a public service. Drawing upon his expertise as a lawyer, he began to make videos pertaining to copyright issues on YouTube. Frankly, I think they're all pretty informative, and while not supremely comprehensive on the topic (I don't think he would ever claim they are), they certainly are well-made starting points for those looking to become involved with content creation on YouTube.

The simple fact is that a great deal of copyright law is a bit labyrinthine, and most of us know next to nothing about it. That fact makes the existence of resources like Leonard's channel immensely valuable. If you have even a passing interest in getting involved with content creation on YouTube, I highly advise you to pay a visit to Leonard French's channel.

 

 

Growing Pains in Art Criticism 2: Games and Writing

I think it goes without saying that I'm not an expert at this. By "this", I mean this whole "person writing art criticism online." I don't have any sort of formal background in critique, didn't pursue a major in journalism or film studies, or even write for any publications. Truly, I am a rank amateur. That obviously doesn't stop me from trying, though.

It should be said that I quickly realized that just because I have the will to try, it doesn't mean that my results would be anything of quality. I'm certain readers of this blog have seen that in some of my...less sophisticated work, but I view it all as a learning and growing process. Thankfully, I feel that I've grown quite a bit, writing-wise, as I'm able to form better constructed ideas, right off the cuff. Unfortunately, this has pretty much only around film and television, while only touching on video games and music, and not even beginning to really mention books.

The truth of the matter is that I'm more comfortable writing about film and television, as the language of those visual mediums is much more decipherable, for me. If I'm to be honest, books are up there, too, but I read far fewer than I should. Music is something I've been involved with my whole life, so there's some level of coherence in what I can say about it. With regards to video games, though, there's a real challenge.

My typical approach to talking about games is more in line with the way many reviews have been written: give a brief description of the general plot and then talk at length about the mechanics, and maybe touch on how the relate to the overall narrative. In no way do I consider that a bad model, yet I'm inclined to think I'm limiting myself in some regard. That's a bit ironic considering the everything-and-the-kitchen-sink model I tend to emulate. That leads me to want to pursue something more focused.

Very often, video games are born out of a single idea or mechanic that's then explored, in some way, via aesthetics and mechanics. I want to focus on that. What is the core idea in a game I'm talking about? In asking that question, I'm certain I'll find myself looping back around to the mechanics. It may take on a different appearance from what I've typically written, but I'm sure that it will also be better.

PASSENGERS Has No Self-Awareness

It's hard to really talk about PASSENGERS without spoiling a pretty major moment that happens about a third of the way through the film. So, just be aware that this article will have lots of information about the plot of this movie.


PASSENGERS is a visually stunning, confusing, mess of a movie. On the one hand, it's an original concept in a time where theaters are chock full of remakes and adaptations; one that takes some risks in its story. On the other hand, the risks it takes are worked into the story in a way that transforms any sense romance (seemingly one of the main selling points of the trailers) into something much more vile.

What I'm referring to is the moment where Jim Preston (Chris Pratt) decides, after being having no human contact for a year aboard a massive spaceship, to awaken one Aurora Lane (Jennifer Lawrence) from the cryo-sleep she and all the other people aboard the ship are in. In his loneliness and desperation, and just after a suicide attempt, Jim comes upon her pod and becomes somewhat obsessed with her. He watches all of her interview videos she submitted before boarding the ship (a sort of Ark going to a colony planet), and reads all of her writing. Essentially, he falls in love with a person he's never met.This level of obsession intensifies when he comes up with the idea to wake her up, knowing that she will not be able to re-enter the pod and will essentially be stuck on this ship with only him for the rest of her life. Even more, he lies to her about the fact that he woke her up.

What follows is one of the more troubling things I've seen in a major release, not because of the fact that it happens, but because of the way it concludes itself. Jim and Aurora, being the only two humans aboard the vessel, begin to fall in love, and at this point the film begins to resemble something more along the lines of a "romantic comedy", all the while working with the knowledge that it's all predicated on a huge lie.

Eventually, all is revealed and Aurora's love turns to hate, as one would expect it to. Then, after a series of complicated events, it comes down to the two of them to prevent the ship's core from overheating, killing them and all of the sleeping passengers. Up to this point, Aurora has sustained her hate towards Jim, but that breaks when he realizes that the only way to save the ship will involve him sacrificing himself. It's a moment that could have been ripe for so much emotional payoff. Jim, feeling the emotional weight catching up with him of how monstrous he's become, is willing to sacrifice himself in an act of atonement. Meanwhile, Aurora would feel many conflicting feelings, hating this person but also not wanting to be the only person on the ship.

It almost looks as though it's going this way, as we see Jim drifting along in space, oxygen leaking from his suit. A tearful goodbye seems to be approaching, yet this is stopped short by Aurora saving and reviving him and the two having a rather passionate kiss. It's as though they wanted an ending with real teeth, one where the central protagonist is does downright deplorable things and, despite the attempts to endear him to us, is punished. Unfortunately, they also wanted to eat that cake, as well as having it.

In no way does their still being together ring anywhere near emotionally realistic. For one, hardly any time is spent on Jim's debating awakening Aurora. Sure, there are a few moments where Jim is seen deliberating doing this, and in those moments we can see that he can see the weight of his choice. Compared to the latter portion of the film, though, these moments are woefully short. Secondly, the whole of said latter half begins to feel a bit Stockholm Syndrome-esque. To be fair, I originally thought that was the point, as this seemed to be a film examining the effects such an extreme situation would have on people. The main issue here is that this is a film that seemed to think itself more GONE WITH THE WIND, when it had more in line with Park Chan Wook's OLDBOY. Perhaps, if they had actually leaned into the direction of what the bulk of the film seemed to be (a meditation on how despiration and obsession corrupts), this would have been a film of note. Instead, it's a misfire of little consequence.

A Few Thoughts on the "Easy" Setting in Video Games

After a long day of work, it makes sense for someone to want to come back home and just unwind for a bit. Perhaps, they have themselves a tasty adult beverage, or listen to music, or (and more on topic with the title of this thing) they sit down and play some video games? This is an activity I've certainly engaged in a number of times, and it rarely involves me playing some deeply complex, technically rigorous piece, but more often something fairly straightforward (your CALL OF DUTY's, BORDERLANDS, and the like). Every so often, though, if I do take a dip into something more rigorous I may find my self playing it on the "easy" difficulty as an exercise in decompression.

For those who may not know, many games have different difficulty settings that you can choose from based on your skill level, or just how tough you want your experience to be. Something to note, however, is that most games are optimized to their "hard" settings, meaning that setting is the closest to many developers intentions for how the game should be played. Due to this, and to the desire for a greater challenge, many "hardcore gamers" gravitate towards "hard".

Yet, I think so many people neglect the real joys that can come out of "easy". As I previously stated, there is a real utility for decompression. Being able to completely plow through some monster, or what-have-you, that would have given you some difficulty on the normal setting is a remarkably cathartic feeling. There's a real sense of power that can come from that.While it's not as ultimately fulfilling as completing some truly difficult challenge, the immediate sensation is notable.

Deeper than that visceral sense is the feeling that comes from exploring the limits of the actual make-up of said games. Questions such as "Just how quickly can I clear this whole game?", "How long of a hit-combo can I string together?" can be answered and their results examined. More often than not, this leads me to somewhat of a deeper appreciation for the game in question. It should be said that it's also lead me to like some games less, as is the case of KINGDOM HEARTS, a game whose main worthwhile elements are contained in the complexity of its game play. Once those are removed, it becomes a mostly incoherent story where one just moves the camera around and does the most simple attack over and over.

I think more of us should embrace "easy" mode. There's real value there, and it would behoove some people to shed some of their oh-yes-I-am-such-a-hardcore-gamer shell. It just seems like such a limiting way to view this wide medium we call video games.

Mini Film Review: DOCTOR STRANGE

DOCTOR STRANGE works as a representation of what has worked for the Marvel Cinematic Universe, as well as working as a step forward for it as well. Though Benedict Cumberbatch's Steven Strange may appear a carbon copy of Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, it's through his journey to the mystical Kamar Taj, and his subsequent transformation of self that reveals how different this outing is from previous MCU movies.

It seems that director Scott Derrickson wanted to explore a variety of themes underneath the the banner of a Marvel film, touching on many elements of Taoist, Buddhist, Hindu, Confucian, and Christian thought. In showing Strange's journey through the spiritual world, we are simultaneously exploring it as well. It's refreshing to see another populist work want to dig somewhat into something beyond what scores a multi-demographic success in the box office.

The elephant in the room is, of course, the issue of whitewashing. In the source material, the Ancient One (the mystical master of Kamar Taj, and Strange's mentor) was a Tibetan man. Feeling that showing this would be encouraging certain unsavory stereotypes of south-east Asian peoples, Derrickson chose to take things in another direction. Unfortunately, this had the effect of erasing a potential role for an actor or actress of, or descended from, that region. It was a lose-lose situation either way, though it's worth noting that Tilda Swinton does a fantastic job as the Ancient One, really finding a way to make her enigmatic yet clearly possessing some sort of rich internal life.

Mini Film Review: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Although J.K. Rowling may have cut her teeth on writing the HARRY POTTER series of books, I don't think that same level of craftsmanship carried over to her first outing as a screenwriter for FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM. This film adaptation of Rowling's auxiliary publication of a fictional textbook is, at best, uneven. Tonally, it seems to want to achieve all of the emotional beats of the entirety of the HARRY POTTER films, but in only one film. As a result, much of it never really lines up.

On the one hand, Eddie Redmayne's section of the film as Newt Scamander, author of the titular book the movie is (loosely) based off of, seems to want to be mostly the first film, THE SORCERER'S STONE, what with the whimsy and somewhat forced precociousness of Redmayne's portrayal of Scamander. Unfortunately, that's essentially all he is: kinda awkward. After this film was over, I had no idea who Newt Scamander really was besides superficial details. That characterizes much of his half of the film: surface-level whimsy and wonder with not much else to it dramatically.

On the other hand, we have the more serious section of the film, with Colin Farrell's Graves. It's this section of the film, with its focus on the Second Salem Society (a sort of neo-puritanical reaction to witches), and the complex interactions between its members, wizarding leadership, and the human government, that contains all of the depth of the film. These characters have real motivations, some of them shifting and overlapping, and feel more like actual people. It's a shame it feels crudely grafted on to its sub-par, but visually interesting, other half.