Netflix's 'Wayward': It's Not the 'Twin Peaks' You're Looking For (And Why That's Absolutely Fine!)
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
Netflix's new horror-mystery, *Wayward*, is generating 'Twin Peaks' comparisons, but as Isaac Rouse at Polygon astutely notes, this does the show a disservice; *Wayward* deserves to be celebrated for its own distinct social critique and compelling narrative, rather than being an imperfect Lynchian imitation.
Right, so you know that feeling when everyone's hyped about a new game, calling it 'the next Elden Ring' or 'Cyberpunk done right,' and then you play it and realise, 'Hang on, this is its own beast entirely?' Yeah, that's pretty much what's happening in the swirling vortex of pop culture with Netflix's latest horror-mystery, *Wayward*.
Now, before we dive deeper than a dungeon crawler on a speedrun, let's get one thing straight: the internet, bless its cotton socks, has a habit of trying to slot every new creation into an existing, well-loved category. And for *Wayward*, the big, neon sign flashing above its head is 'TWIN PEAKS VIBES HERE.' But as Isaac Rouse eloquently pointed out in their Polygon article on the matter (which you can check out for yourself, mate!), comparing the two ultimately does *Wayward* a disservice. And honestly, I reckon they're spot on.
**The Allure of the Lynchian Dream**
Let’s be fair, the temptation to draw a line from anything mysterious, dark, and set in a small, wooded town straight to David Lynch's seminal *Twin Peaks* is almost irresistible. Lynch wasn't just directing a show; he was conducting an orchestra of the utterly bizarre, where every note of teen drama, surreal horror, and small-town quirk blended into a singular, haunting symphony. It's a masterpiece that's inspired decades of creators – from games like *Alan Wake II* (which, to its credit, gets pretty damn close to capturing that unsettling magic) to countless TV shows trying to bottle a fraction of its lightning.
So, when Netflix drops an eight-episode limited series featuring a chilling mystery, a sinister academy, and some truly unsettling performances, it's almost an automatic reflex for culture critics to slap that 'next Twin Peaks' label on it. But here's the rub, mate: sometimes, a shortcut like that leads you straight down a dead-end alley, missing all the interesting bits along the way.
**So, What Exactly *Is* 'Wayward' Then?**
Set in the hazy, pre-social media glow of 2003, *Wayward* delves into the shadowy, often horrifying realities of the U.S. 'troubled teen industry.' We follow Alex Dempsey (played by first-time creator Mae Martin, who’s also trans, just like the character), a cop, and his heavily pregnant wife Laura (Gabrielle Creevy) as they relocate to Laura’s childhood stomping grounds: Tall Pines, Vermont. Turns out, this idyllic-sounding town is home to the appropriately sinister Tall Pines Academy, a 'rehabilitation facility' for kids deemed 'difficult.' Sounds cozy, doesn't it?
As Alex starts digging into a runaway boy from the academy, he uncovers a whole heap of abusive practices and the truly disturbing hold the academy’s leader, Evelyn Wade (Toni Collette, delivering a standout, chilling performance that’s worth the price of admission alone), has over everything. And hold up, here’s a twist: Laura herself is a former 'inmate.' Parallel to this, we’re introduced to Leila (Amelia Sargisson) and Abbie (Carlyn Burchell), two Toronto teens whose grim journey into the academy exposes its brutal methods firsthand. It’s got all the ingredients for a gripping mystery, no doubt.
**Why the 'Twin Peaks' Comparison Misses the Mark (By a Country Mile)**
Now, since the trailers dropped, and especially since its debut this week, the comparisons have been flying faster than a rogue spell in an apprentice wizard's workshop. But here’s my take: Lynch fused *Twin Peaks* into a singular, cohesive vision where the surrealism wasn't just a flavour; it was the very fabric of reality. The town itself felt off-kilter, dreamlike, creating an atmosphere where shifting tones – from genuine horror to laugh-out-loud absurdity to heartbreaking drama – could coexist seamlessly. Few directors, and I mean *few*, can pull that off. It’s why even *Twin Peaks: The Return*, decades later, just reinforced Lynch’s unique mastery.
*Wayward*, bless its experimental heart, tries to juggle multiple genres within its mystery setting, but never quite commits. Isaac Rouse at Polygon aptly describes Leila and Abbie’s narrative as leaning into 'teen drama thriller,' while Alex and Laura's story feels 'saturated in science fiction horror.' And while these threads do eventually weave together, the genre shifts never quite settle and *gel* like they do in Lynch’s work. There are fleeting moments of surrealism, sure, but they don’t *saturate* and *anchor* the series in the same way. It’s like trying to mod two completely different games together – you might get some cool moments, but the overall experience can feel a bit... janky.
Think about it: *Twin Peaks* could swing into full-blown teen melodrama, but that haunting score, that underlying dread, never quite vanished. It was always simmering. In *Wayward*, a chilling revelation can abruptly give way to a montage set to contemporary pop songs, straight out of, dare I say, a CW drama. It just… undercuts the tension. Apart from both being set in a small, wooded town and balancing high school drama with a police investigation, the similarities, quite frankly, end there. You might even argue *Riverdale* is a more apt (though still imperfect) comparison, at least for some of its tonal shifts.
**'Wayward' Finds Its Own Magic**
But here’s the kicker, mate: just because it isn't *Twin Peaks* doesn't mean it's not worth your time. Far from it! *Wayward* boasts a genuinely intriguing mystery that's worth unraveling, even if it's not as otherworldly as some might expect. And given its open-ended conclusion, it certainly has the legs for a second season, which I, for one, would be keen to see.
Beyond Toni Collette’s phenomenal turn, Mae Martin and Carlyn Burchell deliver excellent performances, with their character arcs forming the beating heart of the series. Comparing it to *Twin Peaks* ultimately does *Wayward* a disservice, because it risks setting up false expectations while distracting from what the series *truly* excels at: its valuable social critique.
At its core, *Wayward* is about refusing to let family abuse define you. It explores themes of self-acceptance, the messy, glorious freedom of youth, and how friendships can both guide and hinder your path. Crucially, it scrutinizes the troubling practices of the 'troubled teen industry' – a world Mae Martin knows personally through a friend. The blending of the teen drama and the small-town cop narrative, while sometimes feeling separate, is tied together through the characters’ identities as trans and bi, highlighting how society often unfairly labels them as 'troubled.' This is very much the story they wanted to tell, shaped by their own experiences, and that authenticity shines through.
And Isaac Rouse over at Polygon hit the nail on the head, suggesting the shifting genres might actually be more a 'means to get Wayward made' than a fully cohesive vision – a pragmatic choice in the wild west of TV production, perhaps. But even if the genre-juggling doesn't always click perfectly, the underlying message and character work are strong enough to carry it.
**The Takeaway**
Ultimately, *Wayward* deserves to be judged on its own terms. It’s a compelling, albeit a bit tonally adventurous, series tackling important, real-world themes, and that's a damn sight more interesting than just being a pale imitation of something else. It's found its own unique magic, even if it doesn't manifest in quite the same surreal, unsettling way as Agent Cooper’s adventures.
So, next time a new show or game drops with the 'next big thing' label, maybe take a moment to wonder: is it truly an evolution, or just a new path trying to find its own unique enchantment? Because sometimes, the unexpected journey is far more rewarding than the one you were told to expect. Fair dinkum.
Tags: Netflix, Horror, Mystery, TV Series, Social Commentary
Original article: Polygon