It was in character with Twin Peaks: The Return as well as with the second half of Lynch’s career as a filmmaker, shamanistic shit-stirrer, superstar anti-celebrity, and American pop culture’s answer to Werner Herzog. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that - like the last scene of David Chase’s Peaks-influenced The Sopranos - this was the perfect ending/non-ending to everything that had come before. The final episode seemed to flip everything upside-down, turn it inside-out, then pull it through an electrical socket and cast it out upon the Purple Sea. The first offered a series of supernatural eruptions followed by hints of traditional closure and satisfaction, to the extent that series creators Lynch and Mark Frost were able to provide such things - but from the 30-minute mark onward there were signs that, beneath the veneer of order-from-disorder, something else was afoot. Twin Peaks: The Return ended, if ended is the right word, with back-to-back episodes. Well, what did you expect from David Lynch? A happy ending?
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