David Lynch really puts a lot into a dream scene, and if he ever had anything to put a dream scene into, he might really have something. What he has here instead is a far cry from a take-the-money-and-run bit of hack work. Obviously the big-screen resuscitation of his cancelled TV series must mean something significant to him. But what? And why? And, more importantly, to whom else? Assuming that Lynch had a reason in the first place to begin this saga with the discovery of Laura Palmer's plastic-wrapped body in the river, there can be no reason, other than one to do with poverty of imagination or maladroit storytelling (oh, I forgot to mention...), to go back later and begin it again at an earlier point. And as if the TV show hadn't been low enough on suspense already! And even the reunion aspect of the movie, as compared for instance to the Star Trek movies, would appear to be near minimal. We do not arrive in the town of Twin Peaks (and hear that narcotized twang on the soundtrack) for over half an hour. When we do, we find that many of the characters and their plotlines have been dropped. Other old and familiar characters are played by new actors. And those played by the same actors are inescapably two years older. Some of these characters -- both the old faces and new -- are no more than walk-ons. So why bother? Why stage a reunion when so many RSVPs went unanswered? Why extend the storyline in the direction of least curiosity? Why shave down a layered narrative to a single tier? Well of course, from the purely artistic standpoint, there was the opportunity for greater freedom of expression on the movie screen than on the TV one (the murderer of Laura Palmer may have already been revealed, but her breasts hadn't), and yet this too is a kind of deviation from, a kind of violation of, the spirit of the original. Which might not have mattered if the movie could stand on its own and be tolerated, even enjoyed, even understood, by someone who had never so much as heard of the TV show. That possibility boggles the mind more than anything in Lynch's wildest imagination. Sheryl Lee, Ray Wise, Kyle MacLachlan. (1992) — Duncan Shepherd