Twin Peaks
Episode Twenty-One

Episode Report Card
Djb: C+ | Grade It Now!
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James Marshall is a really bad actor
little surprised that a single ice cube could survive, much less the mammoth glaciers on a far-off planet millions of miles from the sun, for instance) and holds it under his nose: "Let's pretend that this is my father." Bobby stares into it, sadly, unrhetorically, responding, "An ice cube?" She shoots back an eyebrows-raised, "Right," that for some reason never fails to crack me right up. She tells Bobby to remember that their job is to help Ben return from "Limboland," before he "melts away" and leaves them with -- she opens her palm -- "nothing." The strained metaphor leaps out of her hand, limps wincingly off the set, and makes its way to the First Aid trailer to pick up an Ace bandage. Too bad the strained "pawn" metaphor got there first and commandeered them all. Greedy, injured pawn metaphor. Audrey finally makes her point, grabbing Bobby's cheeks (ew. Not like that) and demanding, "From now on, Bobby, I'm the one you suck up to." It's kind of a non-sequitur but not the worst transition in show history, as Bobby has but one follow-up question: "What about Shelley?" Yeah. What about Shelley?

Here's what's about Shelley, indeed. Cut to the darkened (no, really) interior of Chez Johnson, where a slower-than-ice-metaphors-are-strained pan across a nearly pitch black expanse stops on the refrigerator, from behind which comes the sheepish voice of Shelley "Husbands And Knives" Johnson asking, "Leo?" Nothing. More nothing. Breathing short, she hazards out from behind the fridge, just as the lights flicker on and back off, us privy to a shot of Leo's hulking (insofar as cultivating the ol' scare tactics are concerned, that coma was the best thing that could have happened to him) silhouette in an ambiguous corner somewhere. Shelley stays close to the protective appliance (ice, still sidelined indefinitely inside the First Aid trailer, silently begs Shelley not to open the freezer door), hiding on the other side and holding a moment. A big splotch of something purple-ish comes careening out nowhere and smashes into the freezer about an inch away from Shelley. She screams big and finally thinks to make for the front door, finding it locked, which would be of greater concern to me if the rest of the house weren't insulated entirely in Ziploc bags. Which are harder to lock. Awww. Raise your hands if you think the working poor are, like totally quaint. Cut to a medium shot (see, I told you someone's been reading Premiere) of the house's exterior, Shelley's "Help me!" cries a little more muted. An owl-not-what-it-seems does its owlish hooty thing from a Maybe Douglas Fir. Apparently, the owl is not what it seems. Back inside, the wheels of Leo's chair seem to move forward and backward more or less independently, and Shelley turns away from the locked door and tries out something in a contrite: "Leo? Please." Big wheels keep on turnin'. Shelley spots the back door and decides to make a run for it, but as she starts her sprint, the wheelchair springs across the floor, and it and Shelley meet at the intersection of Could See It Coming From Tacoma Street and Harping Every Horror Movie Cliché In The History Of Modern Cinema Except For The Black-And-White Shower Scene Boulevard. The wheelchair hits Shelley. Shelley hits the floor. Tight shot of one wheel spinning slower, slower, stopped. The thirty-second close-up of Shelley's blank-staring eye is mercilessly avoided.

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Twin Peaks

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