"I'm talking about little details, little abstractions. God is in the details."
-David Lynch on Twin Peaks
In 1992, riding the wave of the pseudo-success of Twin Peaks, David Lynch tried his hand at TV for the second time with On The Air. Lynch recycles many of the same actors he used in the past – Ian Buchanan and Miguel Ferrer – as well as collaborating with Robert Engels and Mark Frost with writing and direction. The result feels very much like Twin Peaks, but with less constraint and guidance by the story, making a more immediately satisfying experience, but without the feeling – as a viewer – of accomplishing something.
There are no through-lines to speak of. On The Air follows the cast and crew of ZBC's production of "The Lester Guy Show," a live variety show broadcasting the nation over in the year 1957. Lester Guy (Ian Buchanan), a fallen screen actor, is raised again, as a risk investment, by the hands of Bud Budwaller (Miguel Ferrer). Like clockwork, the show fails time and time again, but succeeds for this very reason. Their audience thinks this incompetence is hilarious. Although Lester Guy is the titular character of the show, Betty tends to steal his glory each and every time with her beauty, innocence, and hyperbolically liberating stupidity.
All of these characters give brilliant performances, as one can only expect from Lynch. And even though the characters of Ferreer and Buchanan are suspiciously reminiscent of Twin Peaks, this does not detract from their endearing qualities. Ferrer is only viscious and unrelentingly blunt because of his passion for his profession, and his need to create quality work. Buchanaon is a dramatist, and even though his true intents lie beyond the desire for drama, his ambition and talent alone leave the viewer with a sense of sympathy, if not soiled in a puddle of distrust.
It's easy to compare On The Air with Twin Peaks, but it's difficult not to: their succession in Lynch's timeline, same actors playing similar roles, and – at times – a similar overall tone. The most significant difference lies in the fact that the story does not make a large, unending arch, but rather it rushes from beginning to end many times from episode to episode. The characters and their conflicts, rather than plot, create a string from which to hang each episode. Also, it’s important to note that On The Air is a comedy, not a melodrama. Saturated in physical and slapstick comedy, with splashes of nostalgia for Chaplin and the silent era, Lynch renews this generic form with his own style. He is only predictable so much as he’s unpredictable, which is why his work is so interesting, and worthy of study.
Lynch is often considered more or less modernist in his approach to self expression, and this is true, I think, for the most part. There seems to be a way to "crack" each one of his films and scoop up some sort of absolute truth. On The Air, on the other hand, is ridiculous silliness – plain and simple. Postmodern one might say. The director of the TV show, Mr. Zoblotnick (Sydney Lassick), inexplicably speaks with an indecipherable accent that mixes Irish, Russian, Italian, French, and Extraterrestrial English simultaneously, and without explanation. Globalization? Lynch also pokes fun at a variety of genres throughout the show, for instance, when a the TV troupe attempts to remake a death-row scene from a film, and completely butchers it – Bud reading from last week's script, people forgetting lines, ducks going in and out of the frame. Parody? Pastiche? Of course, there are also the surrealist elements mixed up in there, as well.
Ironically, the main piece that seems to be missing from On The Air is that modernist touch. That reassuring pat on the back that seems to say, "Don't worry, there's at least something at the end of the tunnel." There are moments in On The Air that have such great potential for genuine beauty, and Lynch comes within a hairs width of achieving this at times – setting the stage for a character's performance to really shine through – but he simply cuts it too short. All these pieces needed was another 45 seconds and beauty would have been attained.
To do this, though, would be to break away from what the show is really about: criticizing the world of television coldly and ruthlessly without exception, audience, writer, director, producer, crew all included. There's a good possibility this stems from Lynch's discontent working with ABC on Twin Peaks, and, indeed, they did fuck him. Royally so. But, as anger and retaliation so often is, the result is unsatisfying. Twin Peaks felt more wholesome, always working towards something with the concrete and allowing for space with the abstract. On The Air leaves only the abstract in a space where viewers typically expect the concrete – the TV series. It was a healthy, sound idea, and it only adds to the history and experience of television, but it's reasons for flopping are obvious and abundant. Those little details aren’t there. And, as Lynch puts it himself, “God is in the details.”
