Grace Ostrosky, Arts & Life Editor–


Content warning: This story contains mention of domestic assault, incest, rape, and murder.

At the beginning, what intrigued me most about “Twin Peaks” (1990-1991) was the television series’ autumnal aesthetic and seemingly basic murder-mystery plot. But now, after falling down a deep rabbit hole, I have become obsessed with the complex characters and themes, and David Lynch and Mark Frost’s commitment to showcasing the often unseen reality that hides behind closed doors.

In season 1, episode 5, the fictional psychiatrist, Dr. Lawrence Jacoby, stated that “the problems of our entire society are of a sexual nature” and, at it’s core, “Twin Peaks” is a series about sexual violence. 

The series begins with the discovery of a murdered homecoming queen, Laura Palmer, in the small town of Twin Peaks, Washington. The show follows FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper as he investigates the murder, which unravels the dark secrets and bizarre, supernatural elements hidden beneath the town’s picturesque surface. 

The investigation reveals the complicated double lives of the residents, such as Laura who in her final months was involved with drugs and promiscuity, and delves into a supernatural world of parallel dimensions and otherworldly entities, such as BOB. This is typically done through Agent Cooper’s prophetic and lucid dreams. 

I won’t go into the all of the complex side plots of “Twin Peaks,” which include Benjamin Horne, the shady owner of a hotel and brothel, and his schemes to burn down the local lumber mill, the love-triangle between Ed Hurley, Nadine Hurley, and Norma Jennings, and James Hurley and Donna Hayward’s forbidden romance after Laura’s death, and I will primarily focus on the sexual violence against Laura and the inclusion of BOB as an allegory for taking accountability away from sexual abusers and placing the blame on external factors.

While it is not explored until later in the series, “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me” reveals through surreal and visceral scenes that Laura had been sexually assaulted by her father, Leland Palmer, for many years. Leland had been possessed by BOB, an demonic entity which caused him to assault his daughter. 

Laura herself is not able to distinguish between Leland and BOB, placing all of the blame for the assault onto BOB. She felt that she was unable to speak about the violence she was facing, even to her best friend, Donna. 

In season 2, episode 9, Donna reads aloud from Laura’s secret diary: “‘Tonight is the night that I die. I know I have to because it’s the only way to keep BOB away from me. The only way to tear him out from inside. I know he wants me. I can feel his fire. But if I die he can’t hurt me anymore.’”

Laura felt like the only way to be free from BOB was to die. 

I greatly admire the dedication to the portrayal of Laura, specifically in “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me” (1992), which showed how her drug use and promiscuity were not moral failings but coping mechanisms for her trauma. Lynch and Frost do not blame Laura’s assault on mistakes in her personal life, but blame the mistakes she makes on the assault she is traumatized from. 

Additionally, the supernatural figure of BOB represents the evil that men do, specifically the darkness that exists within human nature and the cycle of abuse, violence, and trauma. In Leland playing host to BOB, there is no accountability in Leland’s remorseless actions. 

BOB’s backstory, which includes possessing Leland after Leland was a victim of abuse himself, positions him as a metaphor for how abuse can be passed down through generations. And then, for figures like Leland, BOB can be seen as a way to externalize and disassociate from the guilt and horror of their actions. 

BOB is also a commentary on “nice guys,” showcasing how seemingly good men are just as prone to problematic and violent thoughts and behaviors, and that violence against women is far too common.  

“Twin Peaks” and “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me” reminds us that victims of violence are not to blame for the violence they endure, and that the elevation of victims’ voices are necessary for advocacy. We do not always know what happens behind the closed doors of other people’s homes, but we can intervene when it is brought to public light. 

Grace Ostrosky ‘28 is a creative writing and journalism major from Cleveland.