Mulholland Drive Some have already remarked on the fact that a street sign with the words Mulholland Dr. on it is prominently featured early on indeed, theres a big, fat close-up of it in the first episode. Not only that, but the car passing by the sign in question is carrying the dead body of Ben Caspere, the city controller whose death sets off this seasons featured investigation, and the episode repeatedly cuts to its journey. In Mulholland Drive, the crash of the car in question set off the plot of that movie, and the film repeatedly cuts back to its journey. Also, we dont know that the figure of Caspere is dead at first hes got sunglasses on and is sitting straight in the backseat, next to a not-entirely-un-Lynchian black crow mask, which of course will return in episode two.
The décor. It is very hard not to think at least a little about Twin Peaks in the flashback where Ray Velcoro (Colin Farrell), in full L.A. sheriff's department regalia, walks through a red door into a wood-paneled bar where Frank Semyon (Vince Vaughn) is sitting drinking coffee. It also feels like Ray is stepping into hell which was an idea Twin Peaks played with as well. (Also, Blue Velvet, Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive
oh, right, every David Lynch movie is basically a journey into hell.)
Industrial blight. True Detective season two is set in and around the fictional city of Vinci, which were told is an industrial wasteland thats effectively been given over to corrupt manufacturers for decades to do as they wish. Of course, industrial blight has been Lynchs thing ever since his debut feature, Eraserhead. Whats notable about Lynchs use of industrial imagery, however, is that its usually not particularly plot-oriented; he turns it into an abstraction and uses it to reveal his characters inner states of being. True Detective at first seems to treat the industry theme in more matter-of-fact fashion. However
The soundtrack. The industrial noise and the low, bass rumbles heard throughout True Detective this season do feel very Lynchian and suggest that the show has taken that industrial aesthetic to heart in ways that go beyond mere plot using this kind of heavily stylized sound design much the same way Lynch used it in Eraserhead, Lost Highway, and Inland Empire.
The songs. Songs, in this case, are different than soundtrack. Along with industrial noise and stomach-churning thrums, Lynch is well-known for prominently featuring dirgelike pop songs in his work, not just as a way to create mood but also as narrative and symbolic touchstones: Blue Velvet and In Dreams in Blue Velvet; Crying/Llorando in Mulholland Drive; Rammstein in Lost Highway; Julee Cruises songs in Twin Peaks; etc. It seems like True Detectives new season has taken that idea to heart, most notably with Lera Lynns My Least Favorite Life in episode one and The Rose in episode three. Songs, it seems sad, creepy, unsettling ones are going to be a big part of this season. Its worth pointing out that these songs arent just the usual type of soundtrack mood-filler: The action of the show often stops, or at least slows down, to indulge in these musical moments. This has attracted its fair share of criticism as well, but it also happens to be a thoroughly Lynchian concept.
Land development. In both True Detective and Twin Peaks, extra-legal machinations around land development seem to figure closely in the investigation of a murder. In Twin Peaks, local tycoon Ben Horne has nefarious plans to take over a local sawmill so he can turn it into a country club, while in True Detective a lot of local gangster Frank Semyons motivations have to do with trying to buy lucrative land being developed near an encroaching rail line. In both cases, of course, a line is drawn between American themes of development and expansion and horrific, perverse violence a classic noir concept that both Pizzolatto and Lynch have clearly seized on.
Recording technology. David Lynch loves technology, and he loves using it in odd ways. So, too, does Nic Pizzolatto. In Twin Peaks, Agent Dale Cooper sent regular audiotaped missives to an unseen Diane, while audiotaped messages from Laura to her psychiatrist revealed key plot points; meanwhile, creepy-ass videos of Bill Pullmans home in Lost Highway set that films plot into motion. In True Detective, we see Ray trading recordings with his troubled son Chad. Theres also a mysterious, remote-controlled video camera present when Ray is shot by a man in a crows mask, which may remind you of the voice-activated recording of a myna bird that witnessed a murder on Twin Peaks. Additionally, if theres technology being used in weird ways, chances are porn is involved: We see this in Lost Highway, and True Detective has already given us a scene where Ani Bezzerides (Rachel McAdams) busts a porn webcam house where her sister is working (complete with chickens in the backyard).
Shooting the hero. At the end of season one of Twin Peaks, the shows lead Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) was unexpectedly shot by a masked gunman and left to die. At the end of episode two of this season of True Detective, Ray is shot by a masked gunman and left to die. Dale Coopers shooting, and his subsequent visit to what seemed like The Beyond, gave him important clues for season two. Which brings us to
Conway Twitty in dream purgatory. As episode three begins, the just-shot Ray has a vision of himself sitting in a wood-paneled bar, having a highly symbolic, bizarre conversation with a younger version of his father, played by Fred Ward. (Where is this? I dont know. Youre here first.) Meanwhile, Conway Twitty (or is it supposed to be a Conway Twitty impersonator, looking an awful lot like an Elvis impersonator?) sings The Rose in the background (read the story behind the song here). Im not even sure where to start with this; I half-expected a Guest Director: David Lynch credit to float by on the screen after this moment. But suffice it to say that this half-dreamed visit to The Beyond will probably play some role in the remainder of this season, not unlike Dale Coopers own visitation after getting shot.
The dialogue. So far, this season has drawn its share of criticism mainly for being too on-the-nose and filled with tough-guy clichés. To be fair, last seasons dialogue was also pretty portentous, but it was also delightfully weird, which undercut its self-importance. But True Detectives general sense of self-conscious, surreal machismo is very much Lynchian from its overt tough-guyisms (This filth hurt your woman. I had a right, by any natural law) to its oddball, overripe pronouncements. (I like the bike. The highway suits me, sir. I am no good on the sidelines. Dont ever do anything out of hunger. Not even eating.)
A flamboyant psychiatrist. One of the most critical figures in the investigation into Laura Palmers murder on Twin Peaks turned out to be her very oddball psychiatrist, Dr. Lawrence Jacoby (played by onetime musical star Russ Tamblyn), who was fond of colorful shirts and cocktail umbrellas. So far, in True Detective, weve only met Ben Casperes psychiatrist (played by onetime rock star Rick Springfield) once, but he seems to be no less flamboyant, with his immobile face and his dandyish clothes (that ascot!). Something tells us well see more of this guy as the season proceeds.
Surrealism. You see that, too, right? Casperes house is filled with weird fetish artwork and imagery, and this bizarre sculpture-installation-thingy of a miniature naked girl floating in a pool of milk might not even be the creepiest one. But its particularly mysterious because of the way its shot as an insert, so we have no real sense of the scale of the thing. It looks just like a normal-size girl in a pool of milk. Lynch is a master of these kinds of offhand, dreamlike moments of surrealism moments that make you catch yourself afterward and ask, Wait, did I just see what I think I did?
What if I died there? At the opening of episode two, Semyon lies in bed with his wife recounting a disturbing childhood memory about getting locked in the basement by his drunk father. He remembers how he was stuck there for five days when his father got arrested, and how he had to fight off some rats. Ever since, I wonder, what if he never comes home? Semyon muses. What if Im still in that basement, in the dark? What if I died there? The thing thats setting him off in this particular instance is two water stains above his bed. Someones trying to tell me to wake up. Like Im not real. Like Im only dreaming. Yes, this is probably Semyons way of noting that his money and power are whisper-thin. But this also recalls the big reveal at the end of Mulholland Drive, when we find out that the whole film has been, on some level, the dream of a dead woman, rotting away in a dark bedroom. And it also ties in with what appears so far to be a curious undercurrent of transcendence running throughout the show an idea that ties directly with all of Lynchs work, in which people often literally transcend levels of existence.