I Don’t Know Many Catherines

Reflecting on I Know Catherine, The Log Lady

The Q&A at the Egyptian Theater following the screening of the original documentary, I Know Catherine, The Log Lady, was a rather star-studded affair. At least, if you’re a diehard Twin Peaks fan, which I am not. There’s no hate in my heart for the cult TV show, but I haven’t yet fallen down the rabbit hole of love. This made me an outlier. The sample population of people who came out for the last night of the American Cinematheque’s documentary festival can be summed up as a cross between a Twin Peaks convention and a water aerobics class.

And what kind of film could draw such a crowd? A deep dive into the life, times, and husbands of Catherine Coulson, better known as the Log Lady. Chronicling Coulson’s entire career and delving into the final minutes of her too-short existence, I Know Catherine is a sentimental doc about a woman who can’t be contained in just under two hours. An assistant camerawoman, a prolific theater actress, a mother, and a dear friend, Coulson lived a big life. The movie isn’t just about her tenure as the iconic Log Lady, but the audience’s questions would make you think that the film had been about the ethical sourcing of the log.

During the audience questions portion of the night, Kyle MacLachlan couldn’t come up with an anecdote about something Catherine Coulson did on the set of Twin Peaks that made him feel loved. Mark Frost, also in attendance, spoke about how he spent most of Twin Peaks upstairs taking care of things. It’s good to know that thirty years can pass and bitterness will never fade; it gives me comfort. If the Q&A sounds awkward, rest assured, it really wasn’t. MacLachlan and Coulson were colleagues for two years on the set of a series that might have come to define both their careers, but it certainly didn’t link them.

We want to believe the actors in our favorite shows are best friends. But, the interviews of Coulson’s real friends and confidants made it all too clear that the people we work with don’t have to be the people we share our lives with. I Know Catherine didn’t get into the nitty gritty about the line between art and life, but it was hanging over all of our heads. We had all come in with expectations about who we wanted Catherine Coulson to be and how we wanted her story to fit into our lives. Maybe it was most especially those with close connections to her who had the highest expectations; that’s for them to say.

I Know Catherine never quite decides if it wants to mythologize Coulson or not. I learned a lot about the things she did but less about the person she was. The film tells us she never missed a Twin Peaks convention, that she loved her daughter dearly, and that she fell in love with a gay man; all relatable facets of a life well lived. But the truth is, the world doesn’t make many Catherines anymore. It’s getting harder for us to picture such a woman.

She got to be and do almost everything she wanted, and she got to be best friends with David Lynch. As the world expands and so much more of it is within our grasp, I feel the walls closing in on me. I Know Catherine, The Log Lady reminded me of how much harder it is to be undefined and get a break when you’re first starting out. There’s a freedom in her life that’s missing from mine and many of my peers, and it made me envious of the older people in the audience who could relate to her.

I was one of the youngest people in the crowd, an experience that took me back to the days when my parents would bring me to classical music concerts and local performances of plays like Almost, Maine, done by the community rep. Two activities I’m sure Coulson would approve of. While the feeling of bringing down the room’s average age is one that I’ve begun to enjoy more in recent years, it’s a sad reminder that the state of American documentary watching is on par with the state of American theater. The world Coulson existed in is fading fast, in more ways than one.

Looking around at my allies in art for the night, I was curious about who had come out for the other days of the festival and what makes people interested in feature-length docs these days. The two documentaries I’ve seen in theaters this year– one was in a screening room on fold-out chairs– have been for friends of friends and sort of fell into my lap. I didn’t seek them out, and I was more ready to interrogate them for comments, purpose, and meaning than I am of the fictional fare I’m typically asked to review.

Maybe it was the amount of love radiating throughout the room, or maybe it was the fact that I had already shelled out $15 for parking and wanted to get my money’s worth, but I let myself be moved. I let myself pretend that her life was as magical as it looked on the big screen and that, next year, I’d meet the next David Lynch and be friends with him for the rest of my life. In fact, very secretly, in the privacy of my home, I let myself imagine that maybe I would be the one meeting Catherine.