Dale Cooper and the end of TV heroes

About Twin Peaks and the last great heroe

*This article may contain spoilers about Twin Peaks*

To my English speaking readers: since my native language is Spanish, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes that you can find in the English version of this post. Thanks for your support! 😊

On April 8, 1990, American viewers tuning in to the ABC network witnessed for the first time a scene that would, over time, become television history.

In the fictional world, it was February 24, and Agent Dale Cooper entered the town of Twin Peaks, recorder in hand, overwhelmed by the landscape. What no one knew then was that this might be the last time a great television hero would arrive to solve the situation. Agent Cooper embodied that archetype of an unblemished hero that would soon disappear from audiovisual storytelling.

When David Lynch and Mark Frost developed the characters for their series, they chose to create an inherently good protagonist: an impeccable FBI agent, not only there to solve the murder of Laura Palmer, but also to confront the underlying darkness in the small community of Twin Peaks, a darkness that would gradually reveal itself in the personalities of its residents as the audience got to know them.

Dale Cooper was a ray of light in a microcosm tainted by malevolent forces beyond the control of its characters.

Mark Frost has revealed in interviews that his inspiration for Agent Cooper was always Lynch himself, and that he based the character on some of Lynch’s own traits (even Kyle MacLachlan, who portrays Cooper, acknowledges that he drew inspiration from Lynch to play the role). Thus, the FBI agent shares Lynch’s enthusiasm, attention to detail, positivity… even tragic events from his past (the murder of Caroline Earle) don’t dim his attitude.

These qualities, along with his endearing addiction to coffee and pie, his life wisdom (the memorable scene in which he advises Harry to give himself a present everyday), his unerring intuition (Cooper ultimately solves the case by following his dreams), and his relationships with other characters (the friendship between Dale Cooper and Sheriff Harry Truman was the ultimate “bromance” long before we knew the term) make him the series’ most beloved character and one of the most iconic in television history.

From this description, one might suspect the character could be one-dimensional, especially since we’ve grown used to the archetype of tortured anti-heroes that post-2000s television has offered. But this couldn’t be further from the truth. With this character, Lynch and Frost show that grand conflicts aren’t necessary to craft a masterful character arc, taking Cooper’s heroic fate to its ultimate consequences.

At the series’ end, Cooper takes a risk to save his friends by entering the Red Room, a supernatural space where one confronts their dark side (personified throughout the series by the malevolent entity known as Bob). And although he appears to emerge victorious from his ordeal, in the final moments of the last episode, Lynch and Frost reveal their twist: the one who has emerged from the Red Room is Cooper’s dark side, not Cooper himself.

The ultimate sacrifice of television history’s ultimate hero. A perfect character arc. Our hearts shattered.

We had to wait 25 years to find out if there was still hope for our hero. Laura Palmer herself hinted at this in the Red Room, the place from which Cooper would not emerge. Twenty-five years waiting for a happy ending.

The masterful third season that Frost and Lynch released in 2017 (this time, unburdened by ABC’s demands that the series be suitable/comprehensible for a broad audience, allowing Lynch to fully indulge his artistic vision) kept us waiting eagerly for an ending where Cooper could finally be free, a happy ending. And for a few minutes, it seemed like that was where things were headed, as in the 16th episode of the season, he delivers that now-legendary line: “I am the FBI.”

Our hope was short-lived, though. Lynch sacrifices his hero again at the end of the season, because that is, after all, the hero’s true destiny: to sacrifice himself for others’ happy endings. Lynch breaks our hearts once more.

There have been no more heroes like Dale Cooper. Changes in post-9/11 television placed the anti-hero at the centre of every story (audiences could no longer believe in the flawless hero who arrives to save the day). Over the last few decades, we’ve followed characters like Don Draper, Tony Soprano, and Walter White on their life journeys, empathising with them despite their questionable moralities because, ultimately, the alternatives seemed even worse. There’s no room left for characters like Dale Cooper.

Perhaps, in a few years, the trend will shift again, and we’ll witness the revival of the hero, those inherently good characters (though it doesn’t seem likely). For now, the anti-hero-villain archetype doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, and let’s face it, we all enjoy following them on their misadventures immensely.

But some days, when everything seems to be going wrong, we all need Agent Cooper to arrive in Twin Peaks to fix everyone’s problems. We need to hear that “I am the FBI.” Thank goodness for DVD.