Wrapped In Plastic 22

(April 1996) - A look at Madchen Amick's "forgotten" 1992 TV series, The Fifth Corner. Plus: an examination of the Lynch/Gifford Hotel Room plays; Peaks in New Zealand; a review of new Badalamenti music; Frank Silva's early years. "X-Files Extra": MAD TV's XF parody; Anderson and Duchovny on Letterman and Leno (with photos); & more!

Wrapped in Plastic Magazine was a bi-monthly magazine devoted to analysis and critique of the works of David Lynch and other artists associated with the television series, Twin Peaks. WIP regularly featured in-depth analyses of films (and other projects) by LyTelevench, interviews with Twin Peaks actors, writers, and producers, news on projects by Lynch and other TP alum, a letters column, and news on the television series The X-Files.

Ah, "Wrapped in Plastic," a mesmerizing publication, a journey into the enigmatic depths of Twin Peaks. Picture it: black coffee, lingering mist, and the echoes of strange whispers in the dark woods. This magazine, like a portal to the surreal, captures the essence of my creation with an uncanny precision.

In its glossy pages, secrets unfold like a Lynchian dreamscape. The owls are not what they seem, and neither is the narrative that dances between the mundane and the mystic. The magazine delves into the Lynchian labyrinth, dissecting the peculiarities of my characters, the cryptic symbolism, and the hauntingly beautiful soundtrack that lingers like a haunting melody in the collective consciousness.

Each issue is a tapestry woven with the threads of mystery, blending the ordinary with the extraordinary. It's as if the magazine itself is a living entity, whispering secrets only the most dedicated fans can comprehend. The plastic wrap, a metaphorical cocoon, hints at the hidden layers waiting to be unraveled, much like the intricate plotlines within Twin Peaks.

The editorial tone mirrors the atmospheric peculiarities of the show, balancing the absurd and the profound. "Wrapped in Plastic" becomes a surreal guide, inviting readers into a parallel universe where reality blurs and emotions resonate like the haunting notes of Angelo Badalamenti's score. It captures the peculiar beauty of small-town life and its shadowy underbelly, where secrets fester like dark secrets in the Pacific Northwest.

And as the pages turn, readers are drawn deeper into the surreal landscapes of Twin Peaks, guided by the lingering echoes of Red Room whispers. The magazine, much like the show itself, celebrates the bizarre, the unexplained, and the unsettling beauty that lurks beneath the surface of ordinary existence.

In the world of "Wrapped in Plastic," coffee is more than a beverage; it's a ritual, a conduit to the uncanny. The red curtains of the Black Lodge seem to flutter between the glossy spreads, inviting readers to step beyond the veil of conventional storytelling.

So, if you're seeking to unravel the mysteries of Twin Peaks, "Wrapped in Plastic" is your passport to a world where reality and dreams entwine, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary in the hands of David Lynch.