I have identified 10 female
characters – including Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) – with pivotal roles
throughout the series’ two season run. In comparison, there are at least 15
male characters with equally important roles, and at least five more who have
significant contributions to the plot, if not frequent ones. There is also one
character – Denise/Dennis – who is a transgender DEA agent played by David
Duchovny and comes in for three episodes during the second season, playing a
significant role in how gender-power is conveyed in Twin Peaks. The show
exemplifies van Zoonen’s statement that, “women who do appear in media content
tend to be young and conventionally pretty, defined in relation to their
husband, father, son, boss, or another man, and portrayed as passive,
indecisive, submissive, dependant, etc.” (van Zoonen, 1994, p. 17). The
perpetuation of these characteristics creates a gender discourse for how the
viewer is supposed to understand female characters within Twin Peaks and the reality
it creates.
Twin Peaks begins with the discovery of Laura
Palmer’s body on the shores of the river. She is discovered by local fisherman
Pete Martell (Jack Nance) and soon after special FBI agent Dale Cooper (Kyle
MacLachlan) is called in to help solve the mystery of who killed Laura Palmer.
With a penchant for pie, coffee, and Douglas
firs, Cooper is presented as quirky and original. He is a fresh face – and some
comic relief – in the small logging community suffering from the mysterious
death of their homecoming queen. Along with Twin Peaks
sheriff Harry S. Truman (Michael Ontkean) and his two deputies Hawk Hill
(Michael Horse) and Andy Brennan (Harry Goaz), Agent Cooper takes over the case
of the brutal rape and murder of Laura Palmer. In solving the case, Cooper
calls in additional help from the town’s doctor, Dr. Will Hayward (Warren
Frost), and FBI agents Albert Rosenfield (Miguel Ferrer) and Gordon Cole (David
Lynch). The One Armed Man (Al Strobel) also plays a major role in helping
Cooper and the Twin Peaks police department
solve the mystery. All of the people called in to work on the case are men. Although
there was another victim of the attack who was able to escape – Ronette Pulaski
– she is unable to speak and is described as “in shock”, presenting little to no
valuable information about what happened the night Laura Palmer was killed. Outside
of interviews with Laura Palmer’s close friends and relations – mostly yielding
tips of little use – the only woman to provide valuable information in the
mystery is the Log Lady (Catherine Coulson).
The Log Lady – uncommonly referred
to as Margaret – is eccentric, anti-social, and maybe even mentally unstable.
She is quite possibly the oldest female character on the show and is not
conventionally attractive. The Log Lady carries a log around with her every
where and it is implied that her current mental state set in shortly after her
husband’s disappearance. She first comes to agent Cooper in episode two to let
him know that, in regards to Laura Palmer’s death, “One day, my log will have
something to say about this. My log saw something that night.” What her log did
see was revealed in episode six, and provided important information to solving
the murder. She even goes back to Cooper in episode seven of season two to tell
him that, “we don’t know what will happen, or when” but only that something
will happen again. This is a valuable prediction of Maddy Ferguson’s murder by
the same murderer. Although the Log Lady talks for her log, it is suggested the
log is giving these tips, not the Log Lady herself. She refers either to her
log, or as herself and her log as “we”, but she never refers to herself
singularly. She does not exist without her log. Lafky writes of the Log Lady
that she, “limits most of her socializing to a log that she believes offers her
wisdom, companionship, and – perhaps – protection from patriarchal violence …
her log seems endowed with phallic potency” (Lafky, 1999, p. 11). The Log Lady
is the only female character in the show not relationally linked to an existing
male character and so instead must be linked with an inanimate object taking on
masculine qualities of power (the log “tells” her what to say). The only female
character existing outside of Twin Peaks’ gender
discourse, the Log Lady is made to seem batty and undesirable.
It
is also important to discuss the one male-identified character that exists
outside of the male gender discourse. In Deputy Andy Brennan’s first
appearance, he is seen sobbing over the death of Laura Palmer upon the sight of
her body. Later on in the same episode, he also sobs hysterically by the spot
where Laura Palmer and Ronette Pulaski were raped, saying to the police
dispatcher, “Tell Harry I didn’t cry.” It is completely understandable why any
character, regardless of gender, would cry (in fact, Leland Palmer is seen
crying hysterically on many occasions), however Andy’s purpose in the show is
to provide comic relief. He cries often, and it is often ridiculed or portrayed
as shameful – he is weak. Furthermore, a large segment of the first season
regarding Andy depicts his inability to fire a gun. Several lessons and hours
at the shooting range eventually lead to his ability to wield a gun, and he
eventually saves a comrade’s life. However, this small example is necessary to
understanding the gender discourse that Andy falls into. He aligns more closely
with the female gender discourse than the male discourse due to his weak
emotions and his inability to work a gun (a power symbol). Despite his power as
a cop, he is generally portrayed as the least intelligent of the deputies,
bumbling and dependant on his cronies. FBI agent Albert Rosenfield even
comments, “Where do they keep his water dish?” Although Andy is a likeable
character, he is not supposed to be understood as the hero, or even as someone
who the viewer would want to be. Similar to the way in which The Log Lady is
portrayed outside of her gender discourse, Andy is comic relief and not to be
taken very seriously.
Three
female characters – Donna Hayward (Lara Flynn Boyle), Maddy Ferguson (Sheryl
Lee), and Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn) – decide to take the mystery into their
own hands after feeling like they should be granted some power in this case
(indeed, all people directly working on it are male). Donna Hayward is Laura’s
best friend and the daughter of Dr. Hayward, while Maddy Ferguson is Laura’s
cousin and niece to Leland Palmer (Ray Wise). Both of these characters are introduced
as relationally linked not only to male characters, but also to Laura –
something that others officially on the case do not have. The first time that
the girls try to help with the case is when Donna, along with boyfriend James
Hurley (James Marshall), breaks into the office of Dr. Jacoby (Russ Tamblyn),
the town’s psychiatrist, to steal an audio tape that Laura Palmer recorded
shortly before her death. In order to do this, they employ Maddy to dress up as
her look-a-like cousin and summon Dr. Jacoby to a new location by calling him
on the phone and seductively talking like Laura. This is only episode seven,
the first escapade of any female character actively trying to solve the murder,
and we already know that the purpose of the girls in solving the mystery is to
use their bodies to get what they need. In the second season, Donna pretends to
be in love with shut-in/botanist Harold Smith (Lenny von Dohlen). In episode
six she makes out with Harold while Maddy tries to steal a copy of Laura’s
diary in his possession. Once again, we see a female character using her
sexuality to get what she needs for the case. Furthermore, Donna is reprimanded
by Sherriff Truman for her detective work when he calls it a “game” and
compares her information to the story of the boy who cried wolf. Because she is
a young woman actively trying to work on the case, Donna is given no
credibility and all her efforts are demonized or made foolish.
Audrey
Horne, daughter of Twin Peaks businessman
Benjamin Horne (Richard Beymer) – business partner of Leland Palmer – decides
to also take part in the case. Although it is never explicitly stated why she
wishes to do some sleuthing, and she is never linked to having been close friends
with Laura, it is implied that Audrey’s desire is in hopes of pleasing Cooper,
who Audrey yearns to be romantically attached with. In Audrey’s case, she does
not seem to have any desire for power, but rather just for a man. In episode
seven, Audrey gets a job working at the perfume counter at her father’s
department store and eventually goes undercover working as a prostitute at the
brothel One Eyed Jack’s, where both Laura and Ronette worked. Once again we see
a female character in the show using her sexuality to help uncover the secrets
surrounding Laura’s murder in a way that no other male character has needed to
do. This escapade also turns Audrey into a damsel in distress character after
she is caught sneaking around and is forcefully drugged with heroin. Cooper and
the Bookhouse Boys, a band of vigilantes, must rescue her from the brothel.
Audrey’s efforts are hardly celebrated and are more or less ignored.
In
episode 13 of season two, the transgender DEA agent Denis/Denise takes on male
identity as Denis to go undercover in a drug bust because it is “more
appropriate” – it will be more believable for a man to be in that power
position. However, when the drug bust goes wrong and Cooper is taken hostage,
the DEA agent takes the female identity of Denise as a way to seduce the two
men holding Cooper hostage. Even when a character moves between genders, the
power position is the male identity, whereas the only power the female identity
assumes is through sexuality.
In
season two, after Nadine Hurley (Wendy Robie) wakes up from a coma, she is
granted superhuman strength. No other female characters have been given any
type of physical power. However, even with this superhuman strength she is
rendered physically harmless when she wakes up thinking that she is still in
high school. Despite a scene in episode 13 of season two when Nadine uses her
strength to save husband Big Ed (Everett McGill) during a violent attack, her
superhuman strength is entirely focused into the wrestling team at school to
impress a boy.
When
trucker Leo Johnson (Eric DaRe) is shot in the head and loses all cognitive and
physical capacities, he remains a threat to wife Shelly Johnson (Mädchen
Amick), who he battered and threatened with murder before his handicap. Shelly
purchases a gun for herself but is unable to shoot it properly, rendering the
gun, and all power it represents for her, useless. When Leo is stabilized after
his attempted murder, Shelly allows him back into the home because her boyfriend,
high school football player Bobby Briggs (Dana Ashbrook), convinces her to do
so for the insurance money. This demonstrates the little power that Shelly
holds over her own life, much less the life of her catatonic husband. Leo
Johnson is the epitome of male patriarchal violence, even when he is
constricted to a wheelchair, unable to speak and being spoon fed like a baby.
Within
this discourse of gender, the female-identified characters in Twin Peaks are required to surrender power in
exchange for sexuality. Men, regardless of physical capacities, are still more
powerful and given more option to choose than are women. The only power that
women hold within this discourse is the power of their sexuality. Even their
power of sexual consent is robbed from them in many cases. All female
characters (except the Log Lady, and even that is unclear with the gender
identity of the log) are at some point in relation to a male character. Without
this male relation, women are powerless, “positioning all women vulnerable to
male violence and in need of protection” (Meyers, 1997, p. 9). This discourse
demonstrates the hegemonic structure of power in Twin Peaks. As written by
Stuart Hall, “hegemony is accomplished through the agencies of the
superstructures – the family, education system, the church, the media and
cultural institutions, as well as the coercive side of the state – the law,
police, the army, which also, in part, ‘work through ideology’” (Meyers, 1997,
p. 20). Despite Twin
Peaks being a
detective show, there are no female police officers and no female FBI agents
(Denise works for the DEA, and even there, her “power” position is suggested as
male). The only women on the show who work outside the home are Norma Jennings
(Peggy Lipton) and Shelly Johnson, who both work at the local diner – not a
major political power position in the community. Although both Laura and
Ronette worked at the perfume counter, that was played as only a cover for
their prostitution at the brothel. All other women on the show are seen either
working in the home as wives, or as daughters who are students. By allowing
women few – if any – positions of power, men will always be the most powerful.
Women, as the subordinate group, will always need protection from the dominant
group, and by doing so, they consent to being told where their limits lie.
Even
when considering the two business women of Twin Peaks – Catherine Martell (Piper Laurie) and
Josie Packard (Joan Chen) – it is difficult to call them very progressive. It
is implied that Catherine Martell is pairing up with Benjamin Horne over the
saw mill property. The only time the viewer sees them discussing business,
however, is after they’ve had sex. The line between business and pleasure is
not entirely clear, and Catherine’s business strategies are muddled by her
affair. Perhaps she, like so many other female characters, is using her
sexuality to get what she needs. Shortly after the saw mill fire, Catherine
disappears and comes back disguised as a Japanese business man. She proposes
something new to Benjamin Horne, and then blackmails him. As a man, Catherine
is powerful and business savvy. As a woman, she is sexual.
Josie
Packard is hardly an example of a progressive female character, either.
Although she can, at times, be understood as business savvy, her motives are
never clear and she double crosses many people. She frequently flees to Sheriff
Truman and more often than not comes off as a helpless child and a vain woman
(there are many shots of her staring wistfully into the mirror). In episode
seven, when the viewer finds out that Josie hired a hit man to kill her husband
– supposedly for land and money – it’s suggested that she perhaps has some
power or control over not only her own life, but the lives of others. However,
this quickly dissolves in a confusing plot line where her power is also muddled.
In an effort to clear my confusions, I retreated to Wikipedia, where it is
written of Josie that she, “ultimately
dies of heart failure from ‘fear’ after an encounter with evil spirit Bob after
having shot and killed Thomas Eckhardt, a long-time tormentor of hers due to
his obsession with Josie” (List of Twin
Peaks characters, n.d.). This description is hardly progressive. Although
she does kill Thomas Eckhardt (David Warner), her former abuser, she
immediately dies from shock after seeing – just seeing – Bob (Frank Silva).
As
the mystery of Laura’s death draws nearer to a conclusion, the viewer is given
more and more insight about the murderer – an evil spirit named Bob. Bob
appears first in episode two when Laura Palmer’s mother (Grace Zabriskie) has a
vision of Bob – a long haired, middle aged man with primate-like stature – in
the family’s living room. She screams hysterically but no one else sees him. In
episode two of season two, Maddy Ferguson sees Bob in the same living room,
advancing towards her, climbing over the couch like a monkey. The only male
character in Twin
Peaks to see Bob is Dale Cooper, who has a vision of this
“evil spirit” in his vivid dreams. Otherwise, the rapist exists purely in the
minds of women, who fall into hysterics at the very sight of him. In fact, Mrs.
Palmer is portrayed in later episodes as nearly incapable of living. In episode
seven of season two, she is seen crawling down the stairs, panting and desperate,
where she crawls into the living room and envisions a white horse, similar to
the way she envisioned Bob, before passing out. This scene seems to demonstrate
the absurdity of Mrs. Palmer’s visions – including that of Bob, the rapist. When
Cooper has a vision of Bob in his dreams, he is represented as keeping a clear
mind about the vision. He is presented as strong and stoic; the women weak and
hysterical – to the point of death. By keeping the rapist as an imaginary
figure, this also places the rapist (and the rape) purely in certain characters’
heads. By not giving him a stable form, at least immediately, he – and the rape
he committed – is merely an apparition, something that isn’t real.
Furthermore,
by suggesting that Bob is an “evil spirit” and something incorporeal – a
monster, even – this encourages an idea that “men who rape, murder, or
otherwise commit acts of violence against women are ‘sick’ or in some way
pathological ignores the social roots of violence” (Meyers, 1997, p. 10). By
constructing Bob as some beast from another world, the links between rape,
hegemony, patriarchy, and misogyny are completely cut off.
It
is at the end of episode seven of season two that Bob is finally revealed to
us, the audience. As Maddy Ferguson runs downstairs thinking that she smells
something burning, she is greeted by Bob at the bottom of the stairs, who then
transitions into Leland Palmer, as he grabs Maddy and begins strangling her.
During the graphic attack scene, the attacker transitions between Bob and Leland.
While the character is Bob, everything is in slow motion and under a spotlight.
The noises being made are animalistic, as is the way that Bob attacks Maddy.
The noises and the technique that Bob uses in his attack are similar to lions
hunting their prey. When the character turns back into Leland, the extra
effects are gone, and Leland picks Maddy up as if hugging her, spinning in
circles and crying while whispering “My baby!” He then turns back into Bob,
kissing Maddy on the face and neck while making animalistic noises. You can no
longer hear any protest from Maddy. Although she is conscious and looks as if
she is making noises, the only sounds you can hear are those coming from
Leland/Bob. This avant-garde technique reduces the pain and fear felt by Maddy,
and instead focuses on the emotions that Leland and Bob feel. This scene could
even suggest sympathy for Leland, as he sobs uncontrollably in the victim’s
hair. It also reinforces the idea that the Bob is not human, but rather a
beast.
This
scene, and further scenes depicting Leland/Bob in similar ways, confuses what
Bob represents. Is Bob really an evil spirit that possesses people? Is he an
alter ego that Leland assumes when he rapes and murders? Is Bob figurative of
prior history of rape that Leland was victim to? None of these questions are
ever addressed, and all answers are left up to the viewer to decide. Since it
could be any of these three, or possibly more, I will discuss the implications
of all three of these representations of Bob.
As
discussed before, if Bob truly is an evil spirit who simply possesses people,
then that places not only the rapist but also the rape in a realm of the
unreal. If Leland truly is “possessed” then he is, under this context, innocent,
despite being the physical person to rape and murder. This interpretation
suggests that rape does not happen under normal, human circumstances, and those
who do rape and murder are “possessed” and furthermore, cannot be physically
held responsible.
Bob
could also be figurative of prior victimization from Leland’s childhood. In
episode nine of season two, Leland says to
Cooper, “I was just a boy. I saw him in my dream. He wanted to play. He opened
me, and I invited him inside, and he came inside me.” This could suggest that
Leland was raped as a child and Bob represents the anger and confusion that
Leland has lived with ever since.
It’s
also plausible that Bob could be an alter ego that Leland assumes when he rapes
and murders. Considering that the rape of Laura Palmer by Leland was incest, it
wouldn’t be an entirely baseless assumption that Leland takes on a different
identity while raping his daughter as a way to make it seem more acceptable to
himself. This interpretation would be plausible given patriarchal structures in
American culture, however the show never clarifies the existence of Bob, thus
breaking these structures.
The
last two assumptions are made unlikely by further clues surrounding Bob which
are revealed. Although Leland does confess to the murder of Laura, the
attempted murder of Ronette, and the murder of a girl named Theresa in the
surrounding area – he says that Bob made him commit all of these – Bob appears
in additional episodes after the death of Leland. For example, he appears on
the bed after Josie’s death, and the series finale suggests that Bob has
possessed another character. These clues would make it seem that Bob indeed was
possessing Leland only in passing and he was not figurative of anything more
than evil. However, by not addressing any of these possible assumptions it is
unclear who Bob is. This leads to an unclear understanding of rape in our
culture. Although the entire premise of Twin Peaks exists around the brutal rape and
murder of a teenage girl, the rape and the rapist are generally not addressed. The
assumption that Bob is simply evil does not suggest any social structural ties
to misogyny, patriarchy, or hegemony, all of which are directly responsible for
the existence of rape. FBI agent Albert Rosenfield briefly suggests that,
“Maybe that’s all Bob is – the evil that men do.” However, this insight is
hardly progressive, either. The “evil that men do” has a name, and Twin Peaks brushes aside any areas of discussion
for this evil.
Instead
of asking, “Why did this man rape and murder Laura Palmer?” the question is
rather, “Who was Laura Palmer that she was involved in such a gruesome attack?”
Although it could be important to understand Laura’s life in order to find the
killer, when the killer is finally exposed, there is little interrogation as to
who he is. It is accepted that Bob was possessing Leland and that the death of
Leland brought closure to the case. As previously suggested, this is
problematic because it does not explore the implications of social structures
which contribute to rape in our culture. Rather, what is revealed about Laura contributes to a culture of victim-blaming
and creates a false reality about girls and women who are raped.
In
the time that it takes to uncover the rapist, a lot is exposed about Laura and
her “dark” past, including mysterious diary entries, a cocaine addiction,
prostitution, appearances in pornography, and a safety deposit box containing
$10,000. Not only is she portrayed as haven fallen into illegal activities, but
it is even suggested that she wanted – and purposefully attracted – the rape
and subsequent murder. Little is said about Ronette Pulaski, except that she,
too, worked at the brothel with Laura, participated in BDSM with Leo Johnson
and Jacques Renault (Walter Olkewicz) and also
that she appeared in pornography. Both girls are portrayed similarly,
participating in acts that the majority of girls and women, and rape victims,
would not otherwise participate in. This representation is extremely dangerous
to how rape is understood in Twin Peaks because it may suggest that only girls who participate in the
activities that Laura and Ronnette did (prostitution, drug trafficking, BDSM,
pornography, drug use) are raped. Of the 207,754 victims of sexual assault every year (Rape,
Abuse, & Incest National Network, n.d.) it is extremely unlikely that all,
or even the majority, participate in these acts willingly. The only
representations of rape in Twin Peaks deeply
incorporate these themes; thus, the reality created by Twin Peaks may suggest that
girls who do not participate in these
activities are not raped.
These
representations of Laura and Ronette reflect the ideology of victim blaming that
the victim is “…somehow responsible for her own suffering because she was on
drugs, drunk, not properly cautious, stupid, engaged in questionable
activities, or involved in work or exhibiting behavior outside the traditional
role of women. Her guilt is signified through statements … that seek to explain
why the crime occurred within the context of her activities” (Meyers, 1997, p.
61). Twin Peaks does much to provide the viewer with
background information regarding Laura’s habits, work, and behaviors, which
instead of shedding light on the culprit, only works to convince the viewer
that Laura was responsible for her own rape and murder.
It is suggested that Laura
wanted to be raped, and even that she sought it out by participating in these
activities. Many of the responses to Laura’s activities are of pleasure, as if
she deserved what had happened because she had been a “bad girl.” For example,
in episode five Audrey is pleased over Laura working in a brothel. She also
expresses pleasure in Laura’s use of cocaine, as though this information is a
point of intrigue over what happened to Laura. Furthermore, although many
characters are upset by Laura’s death, it generally does not come as much shock
to those who knew her well. For example, in episode six, Laura’s ex-boyfriend Bobby Briggs explicitly says, “Laura
wanted to die,” to which Dr. Jacoby replies that Laura “wanted to corrupt people.”
This dialogue suggests that even Laura’s close acquaintances felt that she had
deliberately sought out her brutal ending – something that the viewer is
supposed to also feel.
Episode seven reveals a tape recording
that Laura had made where she says of a mysterious man, “I think a couple of
times he’s tried to kill me. But guess what? As you know, I sure got off on
it.” This statement is ended with a giggle, downplaying the seriousness of
murder, and encouraging the idea that Laura enjoyed the terror of her rape.
A diary entry revealed in episode four of
season two reads: “Sometimes I worry that she wouldn’t be around me at all if
she knew what my insides were like – black and dark and soaked with dreams of
big, big men and different ways that they might hold me and take me into their
control.” Whether Laura’s rape fantasy was conscious or unconscious is not
revealed, but why it was necessary to be revealed in the first place is
unclear. This diary entry suggests nothing of substance to the mystery, and the
only value it has to Twin
Peaks is to
perpetuate rape myths. Susan Brownmiller writes of rape myths, “They
deliberately obscure the true nature of rape … Once the proposition that all
women secretly wish to be ravished has been established, it is bolstered by the
claim that ‘No woman can be raped against her will’” (Brownmiller, 1975, p.
312). What these entries suggest to the viewer’s understanding of Laura is that
she not only sought out and enjoyed her rape, but that it was not – could not
be – against her will. Therefore, Twin Peaks may
be dangerously suggesting that there is no difference between rape and sex.
These suggestions are dangerous because
they contribute to victim-blaming. By explicitly stating, or even simply
implying, that Laura wanted to be murdered or raped, the viewer is led to a
false understanding of rape and victims of rape. Furthermore, what we learn of
Laura in Twin Peaks does well to keep
with what Meyers calls “the virgin-whore or good girl-bad girl dichotomy” which
“divides female victims of male violence into innocent victims or women who are
guilty of causing or provoking their own suffering” (Meyers, 1997, p. 53).
Instead of understanding Laura as an innocent victim, we are led to understand
her as a tormented figure who not only wanted to do bad things to men, but who
wanted men to do even worse things to her. The viewer is led to believe that
Laura is to blame for her own rape and murder, and even that she potentially
got off on it.
