‘Twin Peaks’ Proves Laura Dern Is A “Psyche On Fire”

Laura Dern is a psyche on fire.
She’s always been that way, from the lovelorn Lula Fortune in Wild at Heart to the endangered paleobotanist Ellie Sadler in Jurassic Park, to the drugged-out mom at the center of the abortion debate, Ruth Stoops, in Citizen Ruth. It doesn’t matter whether a moment appears banal or of the gravest narrative importance — Dern acts as though the world is on the line.
Nowhere is this burning, whiplash intensity more apparent than in her two tours de forces as corporate crusader Amy Jellicoe in Enlightened and as splintering actress Nikki Grace/Sue Blue in Inland Empire. Dern plumbs the most raw emotional depths of human experience in both roles. Amy and Nikki may not appear to share much on the surface — and the series and film may not appear to share much narrative, thematic, or stylistic intentions — but Dern imbues both characters with the same sense of propulsive urgency. Every last part of Dern is left on the table.
David Lynch is giving us a taste of Dern’s essence once again in Twin Peaks: The Return. We only caught a glimpse of Dern as the legendary Diane Evans in Part 6, sitting on a stool at Max Von’s bar in either New York or Philadelphia, tersely greeting Albert Rosenfield (Miguel Ferrer) after he has stepped out of the wind and the rain. We have been awaiting Diane’s arrival for more than 27 years. Of course, Lynch repays those 27 years of patience with a mere 20 seconds of screen time and two words of dialogue. So much for delayed gratification.

We didn’t have to wait much longer, or worry about being teased again. Diane appears onscreen for seven minutes in Part 7, and they are some of the funniest, most scabrous, emotionally wrenching minutes we’ve yet seen in the series.
We don’t know much about the history between Diane and Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan). In fact, before Part 6, it was often theorized that Diane didn’t actually exist. Rather, Diane was a creation of Cooper’s to facilitate his philosophical ruminations and investigative thinking as he recorded them to tape. Now, we know that Diane was in fact a real person, and that she was in fact Cooper’s assistant. She was so close to Cooper that Albert and Gordon Cole (Lynch) would only trust her to verify who Evil Cooper really was.

Lynch is not above teasing along the true nature of Cooper and Diane’s relationship, or how it ended. When Gordon and Albert go to Diane’s house and inform her that Evil Cooper is in federal prison, she bitterly replies, “good.” Gordon alludes to the fact that this “involves something that [Diane knows] about, but that’s enough said about that.” Later, when Diane interrogates Evil Cooper, she brings up the last night they saw each other, in Diane’s house. “I’ll always remember that night,” Evil Cooper replies. “Same for me,” Diane spits back. “I’ll never forget it.” Something horrible happened that night that has left Diane embittered; We can only speculate what it might be.
Despite the continuing mystery surrounding Diane, Dern makes us feel every bit of her contempt toward the besuited men sitting in her living room, demanding that she re-enter their world. She needs to do very little in that first scene with Albert and Gordon. She bores holes in their chests with her stares, lacerating their egos with quick flicks of the tongue. She spews f-bombs with such razor-sharp precision that have not been heard in a Lynch film since Frank Booth in Blue Velvet. She keeps it up to the point that every “fuck you” is almost a badge of honor.

Tammy Preston (Chrysta Bell) seems upset when Diane spits the phrase her way. Really, though, she should wear it with pride.

Diane’s appearance and demeanor also carries echoes of Lynch’s own history. The kimono she wears in her apartment screams Dorothy Vallens in Blue Velvet. Her hair (wig?) pays homage to Rita’s wig in Mulholland Drive. The leopard print coat she wears when heading to interrogate Evil Cooper carries strains of Lula and Sailor in Wild at Heart.
But it’s Dern’s emotional trajectory as Diane that puts one’s heart in one’s mouth. She is sharp and cold when she jousts with Albert and Gordon. She takes on a completely different demeanor when she enters the interrogation room and stares Evil Cooper straight in his black eyes. She almost seems nervous, primping herself just before she raises the curtain, as if she hopes to look her best for an old friend — or lover. She is initially defiant, carrying some of that cold contempt from earlier. Lynch shoots Diane in medium shot, at a traditional reverse angle that matches Evil Cooper’s. She pushes him to state when they last saw each other.

When Evil Cooper states, “I’ll always remember that night,” Lynch changes the angle on Diane. Now, the camera is facing her head-on, in a tight medium close-up, the only color coming from Diane’s red dress. At this moment, Diane’s defiance succumbs to fear. She doesn’t know who she’s looking at. “Who are you?” she desperately asks. “Look at me,” she repeats. The face staring back at her is too frightening, and she closes the gate.

Dern physicalizes emotion in ways that few actors could ever hope to express. You see those psychical tremors cascade through her face, her arms, her entire body. Diane is deeply afraid of what she has just experienced. She expresses that fact in words; Dern makes us feel that fact in her body. Such is the overwhelming intensity of that physicalization that when she goes to embrace Gordon, Gordon doesn’t know how to react, and can’t return the gesture.
Dern’s raw vulnerability also helps to draw out what could be a subtextual interpretation of her final scene with Gordon. Diane says that Evil Cooper is not the Cooper she knew, that it’s not just the intervening years or the new hair. “It’s something here,” she cries as she clutches her fist to her heart. “There’s something that definitely isn’t here.” It is the grieving expression of loss, of someone who no longer recognizes the person they once loved. It is the loss of a broken heart.

We will probably discover what happened to drive Diane away from Cooper. We will most likely learn a lot more about who Diane really is. For now, Laura Dern has given us the opening notes of what is likely to be another symphony of a performance, one that will explore the deepest and most intense feelings a human being can have, from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. Diane, and Dern, are about to show us the true meaning of loss.

Evan Davis is a writer living in New York City. Follow him on Twitter @EvanDavisSports.

Stream Twin Peaks (2017), Part 7 on Showtime