The rave reviews for Mare of Easttown are, of course, unsurprising considering how Kate Winslet refuses to participate in any project that won’t get the awards shows cronies wet. For her to settle for anything less would be to ignore that this is the actress who has been steadily collecting acclaim ever since Titanic. While some might see her selection of Mare of Easttown as “unusual,” it is a completely expected move on her part, with the character of Marianne “Mare” Sheehan being essentially oatmeal until she came along to dress up the part a bit (ironically by dressing down and eating everything from breakfast sandwiches to Cheez Whiz on cheeseballs while not giving a fuck about appearance).
Her staid, steely demeanor blends seamlessly into Mare’s character, and speaks to Winslet’s own philosophy on acting, which is, “I can’t just learn my lines and do [my job], but perhaps that’s because I don’t want to act, I want to be. And I do think there’s a difference.” She adheres to her rule by fusing as one with Mare, the proverbial Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) of this narrative. And, even if less “polished” than Cooper, she still possesses her own set of quirks—granted, one could never imagine Mare feeling comfortable talking to her tape recorder so freely. And with them, the gift for detective work that so few have. In part, it stems from a sacrifice of her personal life, as is the case with Cooper, who rarely has time to think about being a bachelor unless he’s pursued by the likes of Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn). Naturally, Mare being a middle-aged woman with a daughter, Siobhan (Angourie Rice), and a grandson, Drew (Izzy King), to semi-mind—when her mother, Helen (Jean Smart), isn’t—doesn’t have as much to worry about in terms of “beating them off with a stick.” Or so one would think…
Lo and behold, it doesn’t take long for her “hung-jaw look” and aura of misery to attract the attention of erstwhile author Richard Ryan (Guy Pearce, another Brit apparently keen to spotlight this Podunk part of the world) at the local bar. Rather than being repulsed by her as most “city boys” might, Richard homes in on her as the perfect woman to make an acquaintance with if he wants to really get to know Easttown. And oh, how Mare is happy to oblige him in getting to know it. Complete with the iconic scene of Winslet proudly showcasing the “bulgy bit of belly” she fought to keep in the episode while getting her brains fucked out. In this sense, Mare lacks the staunch sense of professionalism Cooper had at the prospect of sex with one of the townsfolk. But perhaps part of Cooper’s hesitancy stemmed from being hyper-aware that he was just a visitor in Twin Peaks, whereas Mare knows she’s practically the, well, mayor.
Even if she’s met with the constant ire and venom of the locals, including convenience store worker and bereft mother, Dawn Bailey (Enid Graham). Regardless, Mare is still held up as a beacon of the community. Someone to rely on in a crisis, someone who “knows what to do” (which, in part, seems to be why she’s so determined to set her life on fire and disappoint people: the pressure is all too much). Lately, however, the need to blame somebody’s incompetence on a lack of finding a resident who has been missing for a year, Katie Bailey (Caitlin Houlahan), has led to the police chief consenting to bring in an outside authority in the form of county detective Colin Zabel (Evan Peters) to help. Mare, understandably, is quite bristled by his presence, unlike Cooper, who seems to welcome any aid he can get from the Bureau in solving Laura Palmer’s (Sheryl Lee) case. And, speaking of Laura, the obvious girl who parallels her journey here is Erin McMenamin (Cailee Spaeny), the catalyst that sets off the entire trajectory of the arc we’re about to see. The requisite dead girl found in the water. She is the martyr needed to ultimately give everyone else in small-town America their own sense of absolution.
And, indeed, Easttown is certainly a place filled with “God-fearin folk,” hence one of the supporting characters being Deacon Mark Burton (James McArdle). All looking for a reason “why.” Why this tragedy? Why do girls keep going missing? Why can’t someone do anything about it? The high expectations of Mare to “perform” are accordingly crushing, and presented in a way that it never was through the conduit of “cool as a cucumber” Cooper. In fact, the contrast in how they’re treated by the townspeople and their reactions to stressful situations is an undeniable testament to the gender divide. And the obvious prejudice against women in such a profession. While Mare is looked upon as someone to be tarred and feathered for not being able to find a girl that no one else could either, Cooper is met with praise and lauding even in spite of having little luck in determining Laura’s killer right away. Granted, the supernatural element at play in Twin Peaks certainly makes it much more of a challenge. But being a man also makes it so much easier for Cooper to take his time and occasionally fuck up. Mare has no such luxury, undermined by the presence of a male to “help” her figure it out. Yet Zabel, to Mare’s shock, does end up growing on her.
Unfortunately, her realization of that comes a bit too late, around the time she’s discovered the online prostitution ring that both Katie and Erin were a part of. A plot device that echoes the sinister, seedy underbelly of Twin Peaks, with its use of the One Eyed Jack’s casino/brothel at the border of Washington (located on the Canada side). For within many a small town lies a malevolent subculture just waiting to boil to the surface.
Take, for example, in the first episode of Mare, “Miss Lady Hawk Herself,” when an elderly woman named Betty Carroll (Phyllis Somerville, in her final role) complains of her granddaughter seeing a Peeping Tom staring at her from outside while she was showering. Betty describes the creep as “a man who looked like a ferret with a hoodie.” Mare, obliging Betty’s fears, makes a sketch of the perpetrator that renders him literally as a ferret with a hoodie. It’s the sort of classic “gently interwoven” humor that arises in dramas like these, including Twin Peaks, which has its fair share of zany moments as well.
But that moment is soon tempered by the shock of a girl’s corpse being discovered. When Mare is called to the scene of the crime, she’s told it’s the body of “Kenny McNamenen’s daughter.” “Erin?” she asks incredulously as she approaches the corpse in the creek that looks oh so similar to the Laura Palmer discovery.
Mare’s fixation on this new case—and its potential link with Katie Bailey’s (à la Teresa Banks in Twin Peaks, in what could be called a “Blue Rose” fashion)—escalates at the worst possible time for her love life to ramp up. The Fates just had to choose now, when she’s at her most fraught. After all, as the episode entitled “Fathers” indicates, the devil’s in the details with illustrating the last time Mare bothered with romance. Which is why we see her struggling to find a lipstick to wear for her date with Richard. Alas, they’re all either so disused that there’s hair attached to one or the shade is telling of having not been on-trend since the 90s. In this way, writer-director Brad Ingelsby (most recently known for Our Friend and The Way Back) imbues Mare with the sort of gritty realism that perhaps Cooper was never able to achieve—more of a pawn in Judy’s game than the patrolling pariah that Mare so often embodies.
The intensive details of Mare’s character bleed out into other aspects the show, just as Twin Peaks (as a town) has its own quirks and anomalies that make it so easy to read into and obsess over. In episode three of Mare, “Enter Number Two,” someone scrawls graffiti on the shed outside of Betty’s house with the urging, “Come squeeze Betty’s titties.” It’s small things like that which make the nature of the town come to life in a similar way that David Lynch and Mark Frost were able to accomplish with Twin Peaks.
Of course, Cooper was never attuned enough with his emotions to admit, eventually, to needing therapy like Mare. At one point, she’s asked by Chief Carter (John Douglas Thompson), “You all right?” “Not really,” she admits. “But you’re gonna survive,” he assures. This, in so many ways, cuts to the core of what both existence and Mare of Easttown are really about: regenerating time and time again both physically and emotionally after traumatic circumstances come to roost. Twin Peaks, in contrast, explores more concretely and elaborately the ceaseless battle between good and evil, with evil always having more fuel to win. Mare of Easttown would, instead, like to posit a middle ground conclusion to that theory.
