Sitting at my computer this morning, a steaming cup of Joe in my hand, I chose to listen the TP CD - I'm up to the instrumental, 'Audrey's Dance'. How pleased Audrey would be to know that that track has been named after her.
As I was sipping and listening, I came to a conclusion about Twin Peaks that some may find controversial. Here it is:
The setting for our drama, the township of Twin Peaks, is more critical to the film than any one of the characters (even Laura and Coops). The very name of the film draws from the setting. Of course, that is not to say the characters are expendable. They're not at all. I'm not the only one to think the ommision of certain characters in FWWM left something to be desired; that FWWM was more an appendix than a prequel. It's just that the characters - as fond as we are of them - seem less than fundamental to me, they are more like spirits emerged from the subsoil.
No doubt I've been 'snacking on too many of the local mushrooms' 
All the same, the proposition isn't outlandish. As much as the drama may be said to arise between the characters, as much as answers to Laura's murder are sought from the people of TP, the film delves beneath the topsoil of consciousness in search of the origin of the communities woes. It is as though the setting, rather than the characters drive the drama. When Truman, Big Ed and Hawk meet with Coops at the double R to reveal the existence of their secret society, they explain that the society formed in response to 'someting out there in the woods'.
What do others reckon? What makes most 'Twin Peaks' the film was it is? Can you imagine TP shot in a more urban setting? In other words, what are people's thoughts about the significance of the setting chosen for the film?
Beauty is momentary in the mind -
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.
The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
the cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrement of praise.
('Peter Quince at the Clavier' by Wallace Stevens)




... I guess it's just a matter of way of thinking. I meant no offense mate.