In the summer of 1992, U.S. media picked up on a peculiar phenomenon. “Twin Peaks,” the by then canceled ABC series created by David Lynch (who passed away at age 78 last week) and Mark Frost, had become a cultural sensation in Japan. Stranger still, many of those caught up in the excitement didn’t seem to have even watched the show.
A segment on Entertainment Tonight showed Japanese tourists on a group tour of Snoqualmie in the state of Washington, where much of the series was shot. The Los Angeles Times reported that locals had started giving the visitors plastic sheets so they could photograph themselves wrapped up like the corpse of Laura Palmer, the high school homecoming queen whose murder provided the catalyst for the story.
Back in Japan, daytime TV programs speculated about the identity of Laura’s killer, while convenience stores began stocking cherry pie, the favorite treat of FBI special agent Dale Cooper, the show’s protagonist. Film magazines — the tastemakers of the pre-internet age — ran lavish coverage. Yet anyone wanting to watch “Twin Peaks” had to sign up for a subscription to fledgling satellite broadcaster Wowow, which had snagged the broadcast rights, or else hope to find a copy at their local video rental shop. By all accounts, it was a long wait.
When Lynch’s film “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” — a disturbing and divisive prequel to the series — opened in Japan in May 1992, months ahead of its U.S. release, it was the first chance many local viewers had been given to find out what all the fuss was about. (Two young women interviewed in the Entertainment Tonight report were less than enthusiastic.) The movie’s distributor drummed up publicity by holding mock funerals for Laura in several cities, drawing thousands of fans.
Not one to pass up on a good opportunity, Lynch directed a series of Japan-only TV ads in which Kyle MacLachlan reprised his role as Agent Cooper alongside other “Twin Peaks” cast members to extol the virtues of Georgia canned coffee. (“Shelly, I’m going to let you in on a secret: Georgia Coffee. It comes in a can. Tastes as good and rich as any cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”) Apparently there were plans to make more installments but, as Lynch later recalled, “the canners did not like the commercials we did.”
It wasn’t the first time the Montana-born filmmaker had been big in Japan. “The Elephant Man,” his first studio picture, was the country’s highest-grossing movie in 1981, outperforming the James Bond film “For Your Eyes Only” and homegrown war epic “The Imperial Navy.” Most Japanese viewers would have been unaware of Lynch’s prior work; his 1977 debut feature, “Eraserhead,” didn’t get a theatrical release until later that year.
During the following decade, the director became a favorite among the moviegoers who flocked to new arthouse cinemas (known as “mini theaters”) popping up around the country. His Palme d’Or win for “Wild at Heart” at the Cannes Film Festival in 1990 further raised his profile. An exhibition of Lynch’s paintings and drawings, held in Tokyo to coincide with the film’s Japan release the following January, was so popular that the gallery reportedly ran out of printed tickets.
The “Twin Peaks” craze cemented Japan’s reputation as a place where audiences were particularly attuned to Lynch’s singular vision. His work thrived in a fertile media ecosystem of mini theaters, culture bibles and well-curated video rental shops, which had nurtured a generation of discerning — even snobbish — consumers.
Yet it was also clear that not everyone snapping up the Japanese translation of “The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer” or the tie-in board game was doing so because of Lynch himself. A senior editor at the book’s Japan publisher told the Los Angeles Times that “Twin Peaks” was “the definitive otaku show,” using a Japanese term for enthusiasts. The series itself was the draw, as much as its co-creator.
With its richly conceived world, vivid characters and dense storylines littered with Easter eggs, “Twin Peaks” appealed to a particular breed of hardcore fan. It isn’t too much of a stretch to compare it with Hideaki Anno’s anime series “Neon Genesis Evangelion,” which inspired similar levels of obsessive fervor several years later (and also did a good job of alienating its audience during later episodes).
That said, many of the younger viewers who discovered Lynch’s world through the show decided not to leave. None of his films would match the box-office success of “The Elephant Man,” but they quickly claimed their spot within the cultural canon. Six of Lynch’s 10 features are given an “All Time Best” award on movie website Eiga.com; surprisingly, this includes his much-maligned 1984 “Dune” adaptation.
He would, however, receive the ultimate tribute in 2012: a Uniqlo line of David Lynch T-shirts. I wore my “Eraserhead” tee until it fell apart.
Pinpointing the reasons for Lynch’s enduring popularity in Japan is like trying to explain the significance of “the Cowboy” in his 2001 film “Mulholland Drive.” His appeal to cinephiles is easy to understand: These are the same viewers who embraced the likes of Wim Wenders, Jim Jarmusch, Aki Kaurismaki and Leos Carax.
However, Lynch’s work also registered with a wider audience. His images had a way of searing themselves into the subconscious, while his surreal Americana made sense in a country that had been steeped in U.S. popular culture since the end of World War II. Some have even argued that Japanese viewers are naturally receptive to the dream logic of Lynch’s narratives, which frequently slip the constraints of Western rationality.
That sounds like a reach to me, but who knows? In a world where canned coffee tastes good, anything is possible.
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