A Pilgrim's Peaks - Episode 24
The journal of my Twin Peaks rewatch. Begin here.
And now we reset for the second time this season as the last vestiges of the previous set of plots fold themselves up into relatively tidy packages to be stored and set on a back shelf somewhere in our collective minds, their contents of already half-remembered machinations and details fading into ever broader strokes with the inevitable passing of time and arrival of new deliveries in the form of Annie, former convent resident, apparent victim of self-harm and sister to Norma Jennings of the Double R. She and Coop share a nice moment over coffee but aside from a generally unsettled air and indicative glimpse of scar, she seems okay.
Ben Horne is leaning heavily into his Quixotic campaign to STOP GHOSTWOOD and save the pine weasel, in that order, with some good prop and script work spelling out the true emphasis of his cause’s concerns. Ben first, attention-grabbing fashion show second, and actual pine weasel occupying the lowest place on the podium. He also makes a big show out of turning over his new leaf in front of Catherine when she calls him out on this latest narcissistic charade. The final nail in the coffin of Benjamin Horne, Environmental Activist comes when chaos eventually breaks out after the endangered animal bites the unctuous Dick Tremayne and Ben is nowhere to be found. He didn’t even stick around to see the animal he purports to be so committed to saving.
Sheriff Truman, on the other hand, can’t be bothered to leave The Bookhouse after Josie’s mysterious death and has gone full hard boiled sad manchild. Drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels for all his meals, not shaving, waving around a loaded gun, brooding alone in lighting that snaps from hard shadow to overexposed highlights on a dime and YELLING ALL HIS FEELINGS when mumbling them isn’t getting his point across. Of course, all he needs in the end is someone who won’t go away and is secure enough in themselves to give another man a hug.
Coop’s comment that, “A man who doesn’t love easily loves too much,” underscores how emotionally underdeveloped the men in Twin Peaks are allowed to be. It’s meant to be an ode to the power and depth of his friend’s feelings, a comforting compliment that, yes, a man can experience emotions too. What it really is, is a warning that Sheriff Harry S. Truman is inexperienced in an essential form of interaction that’s part of the full spectrum of human feelings. Harry just hasn’t been in enough relationships in his life to have learned how to get over someone in a healthy, adult manner. It’s not an easy thing to do and it takes an unfortunate amount of practice, time, and, especially, introspection that society hasn’t historically afforded his gender. Once you’ve gone through it enough with the right eyes and mindset, though, it becomes less like the end of the world and more like the discovery of a new one.
Dale Cooper has been there and back with a level of introspection more than any two men in Twin Peaks put together so it’s fitting on a thematic as well as character level that he would be the one who embraces his friend in his darkest hour, when both Hawk and Andy are at a loss of what to do with the pieces Harry’s become. He’s done this puzzle before, so he starts picking up the pieces.