Every director brought his or her own vision to Twin Peaks in its original run. Spearheaded by two T. V. visionaries - Mark Frost and David Lynch - "Peaks"' heyday had a roster of recurring filmmakers who brought the duel conceptions of the Frost/Lynch team to life. Todd Holland's direction does not disappoint, his choices formulate a consistent vibe not compromised by the tonal shifting from daytime soap to night time thriller to Andy trying to jerk off in the bathroom.
An ultra-stylistic opening minute spirals from the interior of a tiny hole in the ceiling, Sheryl Lee's voice, pitched up an octave or two in the recording booth (classic Laura - exploiting deviously her feigned innocence from beyond the grave, here contained in the space of her father's psyche), echoes calls for "Daddy," for "Leland," and his head of stark white spins on screen, but the motions start winding down, Mr. Palmer's expression stares stoically at an internal storm, thundering inside him. Later in the episode, thunder and lightning march across the Twin Peaks skies. At the sheriff's station, a judge's entry cues a thunderclap. The happenings surrounding Leland and this judge, the fledgling trial of Mr. Palmer, are the glue that keeps the episode from falling apart entirely into a status of expendability. Leland's opening speech on "absolute loss" is heart wrenching, Wise's delivery finds as per usual that healthy middle betwixt ridiculousness and poignancy - a wave "Peaks" itself rides perpetually.
Holland's directorial choices have a "bottled" quality, accentuating closer medium shots, rarely exploiting spatial freedoms. The consistency of this style helps the episode flow far smoother than it should given how convoluted a writer's room this episode had, the most cluttered of any "Peaks" episode to this point and exemplary as to why this episode is weaker than its company in the first half of season one. Dare I say the quality control of this script anticipates the screenwriting prat falls to come? At least there are some effective scenes to spare, the only real dud of a storyline is that out of place food critic business.
An ultra-stylistic opening minute spirals from the interior of a tiny hole in the ceiling, Sheryl Lee's voice, pitched up an octave or two in the recording booth (classic Laura - exploiting deviously her feigned innocence from beyond the grave, here contained in the space of her father's psyche), echoes calls for "Daddy," for "Leland," and his head of stark white spins on screen, but the motions start winding down, Mr. Palmer's expression stares stoically at an internal storm, thundering inside him. Later in the episode, thunder and lightning march across the Twin Peaks skies. At the sheriff's station, a judge's entry cues a thunderclap. The happenings surrounding Leland and this judge, the fledgling trial of Mr. Palmer, are the glue that keeps the episode from falling apart entirely into a status of expendability. Leland's opening speech on "absolute loss" is heart wrenching, Wise's delivery finds as per usual that healthy middle betwixt ridiculousness and poignancy - a wave "Peaks" itself rides perpetually.
Holland's directorial choices have a "bottled" quality, accentuating closer medium shots, rarely exploiting spatial freedoms. The consistency of this style helps the episode flow far smoother than it should given how convoluted a writer's room this episode had, the most cluttered of any "Peaks" episode to this point and exemplary as to why this episode is weaker than its company in the first half of season one. Dare I say the quality control of this script anticipates the screenwriting prat falls to come? At least there are some effective scenes to spare, the only real dud of a storyline is that out of place food critic business.