NEWTON'S LAW: WHAT HAPPENED? THE LIFE, ODD TIMES OF `TWIN PEAKS'

You might remember that in the movie "Tootsie," Bill Murray had the small role of a decidely off-beat playwright. He aspired in his work not to have people approach him after a production and tell him, "That was good," but to have them approach him and ask, "What happened?"

People who have followed "Twin Peaks" might feel David Lynch has the same aspirations.

"Twin Peaks" died as it lived, in solemn and strange fashion, and with more loose strings than an old sweater.

If all you see of a jacket is a loose button someone lays in your hand, there is no way of determining what the garment looks like. We can turn the button over, observe its design and color, study its texture, but have no notion of what it was meant to hold together.

Maybe that's what Lynch pulled on us. Maybe we were given a scant look at his grand, weird vision and never had a chance of understanding it without a larger context.

Given the grandness and weirdness involved, it might have taken 20 years of context to straighten out Lynch's vision. There is no easy way to begin.

Suffice it to say that "Twin Peaks," late of ABC and not assigned for renewal, drew lots of attention and a meager following. Meager in prime time terms means death.

It attracted a lot of people like me, married folks with children who do a lot of sitting around on Saturday night and enjoy the diversion, no matter how bizarre.

Initially, ABC was tolerant. While the network was dismayed by the ratings, it embraced the show's "demographics" ... meaning it didn't mind targeting an audience of married folks with children who do a lot of sitting around, and so on.

Ultimately, the numbers couldn't bear the weight of their paltry composition. "Twin Peaks" finished 100 out of 134 shows for the 1990-91 season.

When the show was canceled earlier this year, Lynch urged a letter-writing campaign to revive it. Ten thousands letters made their way to the ABC executive suites.

So, "Twin Peaks" was put back on the air, this time not in the Saturday night hinterlands but opposite the top-rated show, "Cheers" on NBC. This is akin to curing someone of sleepwalking by giving them a bed on a building ledge.

Despite considerable hoopla, the returning show finished behind 70 other shows in the week's ratings. The operative word is adios.

Critics had applied descriptions to the show like "moody" and "stylish" and "lavishly produced." Critics, whose senses are dulled by dozens of shows like "Major Dad," are due some license. In the end, though, everyone was confounded.

Unlike Leland Palmer, the troubled father of the show's centerpiece corpse, Laura, we aren't inclined to lose our bearings over the cancelation. (You might recall that a distraught Leland, in one of the show's most memorable scenes, leaped on Laura's coffin as it was being lowered.) Instead, we walk away from the demise of "Twin Peaks" scratching our heads.

Who will be Windom Earle's next victim? Will Nadine win the Miss Twin Peaks contest? Who is the father of Lucy's baby? What's Bob up to? Will the Log Lady ever get a life? Can the doughnut industry recover if Agent Cooper and Sheriff Truman turn in their television badges?

Is it possible David Lynch was just toying with us? A peculiar aspect of our culture is that many of us embraced him for it.

Maybe some of the questions will be answered when the remaining two episodes of "Twin Peaks" are shown on June 10. But don't bet on it; Lynch might be introducing new characters ten minutes before the closing credits.

The question we have then will be the question we have now.

What happened?