I like how Andy can be the posterchild for Twin Peaks' ability at being both a parody of soap opera/melodramas and the thing itself. Like the way he is introduced crying already (and inexplicably) before he even sees the body mirrors the way the pilot will show us reactions to the murder of characters we haven't yet met and still, like Andy, it'll go a bit overboard with every "grief" scene, so its both unsettling because it goes always a step further than we'd expect from a scene like that, but also becomes about itself, because it draws attention to the absurdity (not sure if the right word) of caring about characters that are being introduced and characterized through their reactions to the death of a different character we don't even get introduced to. Of course, the thematic concern in Lynch's work between the "reality of the world" and the utopian idyllic version of places we tell ourselves is present in that dynamic, as that over-reaction is unsettling precisely because near unexplainable murders (in the "why" sense) happen often, but its also incredibly funny because the way its presented is as absurd as feeling Andy crying in the beginning. And the series is aware of that, and guiding us, because since we somewhat "laugh" (if not out loud) at Andy at the very beginning, it gets harder to take every subsequent "crying" scene as seriously as one would otherwise.
What's great though is that Twin Peaks isn't merely a parody or satire of a genre, so this quote is also accurate:
Quote:
| But as the police find the location where Laura and Ronette were tortured/raped, Andy’s tears suddenly don’t seem even remotely comic, even in the nervous uncomfortable way. It’s moving. Andy, who seems like a sweet, gentle soul, has stared Evil’s handiwork deep in the face, and it’s shaken him. It’s very easy to feel for him in that moment. |
Except by then we've already gone full snake eat snake, not unlike what Lynch would be doing later on in more explicitly structural terms.
