Twin Peaks Decaps — Episode 1.01 — “Traces to Nowhere”

11 min readFeb 26, 2017

Featuring many actors whose character names maintain consistent spelling,

Officially this episode is called “Traces to Nowhere”. Nobody really uses the episode titles, though.

I will occasionally refer to “Lonely Souls” by name, as I’ve also seen others do, if only because it’s the episode that is most often referred to, since it was probably the greatest feat of cinematic storytelling in television history when it aired and would still compete for the position today.

And when I say “greatest” feat, by the way, I know the word is essentially meaningless, especially when applied to such a subjective topic. I’m just being a little lazy with my terminology because: A) I am not getting graded for this; B) I am not getting paid for this; and C) apparently I have to write every day now like some kind of writer person.

Thankfully, unlike the pilot, the episodes are only one hour now, and I’ve already written more than enough introduction to the entire thing I’m doing here (“murder decaps”). So it’s possible I will meet my goal and retain (or even improve) my current state of mental health while doing it.

And when I say “mental health”, by the way, I mean the usual sexy creative diseases of anxiety and depression. I would call it neurasthenia but I don’t know if I’m covered for that.

So.

HALF THE MINUTES, TWICE THE SCREENIES

These are both birds; the bottom one is probably a duck

Special Agent Dale Cooper is a wacky guy, and the opening scene of this episode is going to remind us of that. But he’s a disciplined guy, and a thinker, and he takes what he’s doing seriously, whether it’s his breakfast order or his JFK theories or his Yelp reviews of various hotels.

D.B.’s knees (this pun works if you know his middle name is Bartholomew)

And speaking of freshly squeezed, the breakfast scene — at the beginning of the first post-pilot episode, so we know they’re not doing this accidentally — definitely carries on the concept of Audrey’s Emotional Damage being a running theme that is played close to the border of humor and tragedy.

What I mean is, watch how fast Coop’s facial expression goes from “I’m gonna flirt outrageously with this young woman who is approaching my table” to “holy shit, this girl’s got problems she couldn’t even keep below the surface for three minutes in the morning at a table with someone she wants to impress in the middle of a crowded public dining room”.

Anyway,

Establishment establishment establishment

Sheriff’s Department.

Don’t go any further with it, there’s nothin’ good about it

Hope nobody was fond of that glass partition that Lucy was reflected in last episode, because that was an unfortunate feature of an on-site shooting location we found a way to use but it’s impractical to work around every day on a soundstage so we’re gonna write a scene where some workmen remove it so we don’t have to answer questions about it for the rest of our lives because even though it’s 1989 now we imagine that fan conventions are going to be a big part of the future of television culture.

Also, Cooper really has to narratively urinate, and not for the last time.

Oh, by the way, coffee at the Great Northern?

We get a moving scene with some nice acting by writer Mark Frost’s actor father, Warren Frost, as Doc Hayward. All of it fills in a bit more dismal detail about the crime itself and the state of Laura’s extra-curricular life.

While none of the forensic evidence ends up having much to do with the solving of the crime — the normie-style investigation of Laura Palmer’s murder is an incompetent mess, to be honest — I find the good doctor’s exhausted, bewildered state while delivering the autopsy results to be the best and truest and most affecting character reaction of those enlisted to convince the audience of how beloved Laura really was. He’s just plain heartbroken.

He also gets in on the Subtly Pointing Out The Suspect Of The Week game, saying “Who would do a thing like that?” right before we smash cut to Leo Johnson’s truck. The truck he’s intently vacuuming. The truck from which he draws a bag of jerk-husband road laundry that happens to contain a bloody shirt clue.

Speaking of James, James is speaking to Cooper and Truman, which, let’s be honest, means he’s speaking to Cooper, about the night of Laura’s murder. He says a lot of sad things sadly, and to the extent that we know what’s real we recognize that he is truth-telling to the best of his emo ability. But then, in response to a question, he has a flashback that tells us something about the answer…

…AND THEN HE LIES ABOUT IT. CONVINCINGLY. JAMES CAN LIE. And he has a motorcycle and he had that heart and maybe he’s a murder guy after all.

So, so far, it’s definitely either Nice James or Asshole Leo, with Creepy Dr Jacoby and Folksy Big Ed as long shot suspects. Right?

I mean, it’s 2017, we know it’s not any of them, but let’s play along here.

Audrey had that sly smile in the classroom last episode and is clearly a weirdo. Josie was the first person we saw and was doing that humming thing when she paid attention for no apparent reason to the sound of Pete leaving to go fishing with a body right outside on the shore, so that’s a wee bit suspicious.

Bobby Briggs was her legit boyfriend and while he’s a serious knob he doesn’t seem the type to leave little totemic gestures in his murder-wake.

Way in the background of this, there’s the matter of the other murder, the Teresa Banks murder, in the previous year and elsewhere in the state. Leo travels for a living. I mean, he’s a truck driver. Do I have to spell it out for you? Obviously Leo is the killer.

But this show is clever and weird, and mystery novels love to pull that shit where they make someone look like an obvious suspect but then it’s not them. And we know the writers like mystery novels because one of the unseen roll-call students in the pilot was named Martha Grimes. So that probably means it’s… not Leo?

Solving crimes is hard.

But before I leave the subject of James, and how cool and collected he is when they take him back to his cell, interrupting Mike and Bobby while they call each other by nicknames that will seldom if ever be heard again (Bobby calls Mike “Snake” a couple of times, Mike calls Bobby “Bopper” just this once, nobody ever calls the Packard house “Blue Pine Lodge”)…

Cinematographic obfuscation or rejected Lasik commercial?

…what’s the deal with the weirdo face in the blurry background while Flashback Dove Commercial Sheryl Lee is miming breaking that heart necklace in half?

I have heard it claimed that it is James Hurley, which makes no sense. I have heard it claimed that it is Leland Palmer, which makes no sense in a different way. I have heard it said that it is just meant to be some background rando, which, may as well be for all the good it does, but by far the least interesting possibility. If there’s a definitive answer, that I have not heard.

But as we exit the Sheriff’s Department for now, to see what else is going on…

Stilgar… this is Kwisatz Haderach Paul Atreides

We haven’t mentioned Norma Jennings yet! She runs the diner and is helping Big Ed cheat on his wife, Nadine! Let’s have Norma and Nadine bump into each other to underline the thing that Ed and Harry were just talking about!

Worth it though, since this exchange:

NORMA “also cheating” JENNINGS: I might ask you the same question.
NADINE “Cotton Balls” HURLEY: And I will tell you.

…is one of the weirdest conversational moments, and therefore one of my favorites, in the entire show.

yllacinhcet ,tset ledhceB eht ssap ot tuobA

THERE WAS A MAIN CHARACTER DEFINED PURELY BY HER SEXUALITY AND HER WACKY BROKEN ENGLISH! IN THE PERCOLATOR!

I mean, Joan Chen did her best, and then some, with what she was given.

But jeez.

Palate cleanser:

Bonus:

(I swear I had more involved intentions with all these pics, I’m not just burning them off to fill space. Just be happy I’m not writing another introduction.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Sarah Palmer is understandably a mess. Leland is doing what he can to keep it together for the both of them. Given her propensity for shrieking, he is probably wearing a pair of Ear Pillow silicon earplugs.

Zabriskie-Shrieking.mp4 not found, you’re welcome.

(But seriously, Grace Zabriskie works Sarah’s weirdnesses wonderfully. She’s amazing.)

In other warm representations of smalltown domesticity,

let’s visit the eclectically-designed Briggs household,

where dinner is curre — FACESLAP

That’s Bobby’s cigarette, formerly in Bobby’s mouth, presently in Betty’s foodloaf

Firstly, imagine the kinetic energy required. Whatever that foodloaf is, it holds its form enough that you use a knife on it.

Secondly, and more importantly, this is not the Major Garland Briggs we will come to know and love, and to dearly miss in season three due to the passing of Don Davis (a.k.a. Scully’s dad). This is, like, Major Dickweed. I mean, yes, Bobby is being Dickweed Junior, but this is some harsh medicine.

It does sorta work out in the end, and I’ve never had a kid so I’ve never had to deal with the question of “when is it my parental duty to just belt this dumbass in the face for their own good” so I’m not really in a position to judge. But it does seem way out of character compared to the resilient, emotionally- and spiritually-centered, dimension-transcending hero of season two. Then again I used to wear boots with heels and one day I Saw Myself in the holistic sense and stopped doing that immediately so I suppose people can change.

HOLY CRAP, THAT’S PLASTIC WRAP

Gotta back up for a minute first though.

There was that scene in Ben Horne’s office. Audrey is swaying to music we assume nobody else can hear, because it’s up front in the mix and it’s in the style of the show’s soundtrack music, and, well, it’s Audrey. But Ben comes in and shuts it off and we go, “huh, that was a neat little trick”.

This is why it sort of forces me to overthink what happens in this scene where Leo “Big Pussycat” Johnson commits domestic violence against his wife, Shelly “Deserves So Much Better Than These Twin Peaks Clods” Johnson. He turns on the radio, presumably to drown out her screams, and a bluesy rock guitar riff comes on. So that’s a song that exists in the world of the show. But the same music is used on at least two other occasions, and it’s not happening in the world, it’s happening as soundtrack music for us, the audience.

I don’t have a conclusion, I just wanted to get that out of the way before confessing the following:

I have watched this show literally dozens of times, and this is the first time I ever noticed that they were planting an obvious clue about Leo being Laura Palmer’s murderer in this scene, because Laura was famously found Wrapped In Plastic, and on the floor here in the unfinished Johnson house, Shelly collapses defensively into a pile of Wrapping-Intended Plastic.

I like to say that a show so rich and deep as Twin Peaks rewards rewatching multiple times over, as you always notice something new. And that’s true. But usually it’s some little background detail, not a super-deliberate, bonk-you-over-the-head-with-it feature like this.

Look, I never claimed to be smart.

(DISCLAIMER: I have frequently claimed to be smart.)

Okay, it getting to be time to leave the town of Twin Peaks for today. Let’s just be thankful that we didn’t have to witness Dr Jacoby being some sort of creepy perv — OH GOD WHAT IS HE GONNA DO TO THAT FISH-TIE

All right, he’s not molesting his crazy-psychiatrist fish-tie. We can all breathe easier knowi —

— ahh, fuck, he’s fondling a coconut like it has a nipple. Never mind.

So. Anyway. Heart necklace.

Obviously Amblin’ Jacoby was the gloved hand in the forest. This does not mean he didn’t murder Laura, but the cassette Laura recorded for him, and his reaction to the parts of it we don’t hear, dilute any suspicion coming from this is-he-crying?/is-he-laughing? scene that ends the episode.

Wrapping up the suspicion threads, if the pilot episode mostly focused the lens of suspicion upon James Hurley, this episode’s most compelling evidence points to Leo (the bloody shirt, the plastic sheeting, his general violent assiness, and so forth).

But now, in these final moments, we have a new shadow lurking, the “mystery man” Laura mentions on her tape.

I’m assuming she doesn’t mean Robert Blake.