I went clubbing for the first time in January and when I woke up—still clinging onto the edge of sleep whilst checking my phone, barely processing anything—I read that David Lynch had passed away. Immediately that snapped me out of my stupor. One of my favourite directors was gone. Having discovered him at the age of fourteen through Twin Peaks, that world of his had grown stronger in my head. That day whilst slightly hungover, I watched Fire Walk With Me for the first time since I was fifteen, and then again a few days ago. Reminiscent of Laura Palmer, Lynch’s presence would only solidify after death; his mosaic of surreal symbols a staple of who he was, and what his legacy will continue to be.

Fire Walk With Me is the prequel movie to the show Twin Peaks (1990), created by Lynch and Mark Frost, detailing the life of Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) and  her heartbreaking demise. While Twin Peaks explores the aftermath of her murder, in Fire Walk With Me we see Laura—homecoming queen and straight-A student, only seventeen—wholly alive.

Yet the movie does not begin with her. Instead, with static blue credits opening to a television smashing and a scream, we are taken along with FBI agents Chet Desmond (Chris Isaak) and Sam Stanley (Kiefer Sutherland) to investigate the grisly murder of Theresa Banks (Pamela Gidley). For the first thirty minutes, everything feels hazily slow. The people of Deer Meadow, including the detectives, act as if they’re trapped in a dream; their voices carrying a dull tone, their movements pointed. But Laura is the thread connecting everyone together, and when Theresa’s body is swept away, we are brought back to the familiar Twin Peaks, invited inside with the infamous enigmatic score by Angelo Badalamenti.

In Laura’s first appearance, we see her at school walking with her best friend Donna Hayward (Moira Kelly) and being approached by her boyfriend Bobby Briggs (Dana Ashbrook). Teasingly smiling with shiny blonde hair, Palmer is picture perfect. Yet there is this feeling of dread entrenched in the film; what will happen in the next hour and half? What makes Laura go from a starlet to a dead girl? David Lynch’s methods of creating tension are exceptional, from prolonged shots of the Palmer house to flashing dream sequences that don’t startle, but creep. His vision particularly stands out in regards to Bob—the evil entity who has been sexually abusing Laura for five years. We see him terrifyingly pop out in scenes but without him, we feel his presence which haunts Laura; “And the angels won’t help you. Because they’ve all gone away.”

As the film progresses, reality and fantasy blend together. Laura’s secret life of drugs, sex, and alcohol clashes with her quiet one at home in a scene where her father Leland (Ray Wise) asks if she’s washed her hands, and proceeds to violently grab them. It’s a moment almost universal, when a parent’s anger suddenly spikes, warping a kid’s perception of their family. For Laura, though, it is more than anger. No matter her coping mechanisms of prostituting herself at the fiery red Bang Bang Bar or scoring cocaine with Bobby, she can’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach that Leland is more than her father.

The last twenty minutes are some of the most difficult to watch. Sheryl Lee’s performance is sickeningly captivating as her makeup smears and her dress tears while she is being taken by Leland. Her nightmare is true. Besides her, Ray Wise as Leland is terrifying. His empty eyes bores into his daughter’s, before trembling out the words “I always thought you knew it was me.” Leland is concrete and Bob his reflection, both attacking Laura in such a brutal, dizzying frenzy.

While the non-linearity of the film is at times confusing, with parts dragging, Fire Walk With Me is violent as it is beautiful, tying together in the final scene. Laura in the Black Lodge—a metaphysical space—begins to smile. The soft music rises and her smile turns to laughter against her tears, genuine for the first time. An angel floats down shrouded in white light. At this story’s heart, David Lynch handles Laura’s abuse with such love and care against the horror. Some questions are left unanswered but we can hope that Laura Palmer is resting in peace with David beside her.

Photography credit: Derek Hudson