Kyle MacLachlan is living up to his reputation as the Internet’s Dad.
It’s an especially warm day in August, and the bespectacled actor, best known for his many projects with the late auteur David Lynch, is approaching with a coffee (black, naturally) in one hand and a massive cookie in the other. The snack, it turns out, is meant for us to share.
“Whatever it is, it’s very healthy,” he says when I ask what sort of confection he chose. “It’s cranberry, oatmeal and gluten-free. Who knows if there’s any sugar in there?”
At 67, MacLachlan isn’t necessarily a health nut. But he is highly amenable and willing to roll with my vegan cafe selection, which is conveniently located near our photo shoot location. “I come from Eastern Washington state — it’s a desert,” he says assuringly when I offer to move us to an indoor seat with air conditioning. Later, as we prepare to leave for the shoot, he clocks my car, a rare station wagon, and dubs it “spec-TAC-u-lar.”
That’s MacLachlan for you — all it takes is one word (he also drops an “Aces!” during our meeting) or enthusiastic gesture (very likely a swooping thumbs up) to channel the type of eccentric and upbeat characters he’s spent the last 40 years playing. Now, with the release of his thoughtful new memoir, “Fictional Selves,” MacLachlan gives us a much closer look at the man behind the chin-jutting grin, and, in doing so, introduces us to his doppelganger, “Other Kyle,” an image-conscious shadow figure constantly trailing behind, questioning his choices.
“There’s definitely another entity, an observer, the ego, the harder self,” MacLachlan says of how he would describe Other Kyle, whom ghostwriter Jon Sternfeld first identified after noticing the way MacLachlan tended to fall into conversation with himself while recounting his life. “[He’s] the kind of person that I’m not comfortable leading within the world. But he’s definitely in there commenting on the things that I do.”
Other Kyle first began to taunt MacLachlan after he saw himself on a gargantuan billboard for “Dune” in Times Square. (In his early 20s, MacLachlan was famously plucked from obscurity to lead David Lynch’s 1984 adaptation of Frank Herbert’s sci-fi epic.)
Well before his alter ego materialized, and well before Hollywood found him, MacLachlan was prone to anxiety and fears of never fitting in. Born in Yakima, Wash., MacLachlan grew up the oldest of three boys; his parents were solidly middle-class, with his father working as a lawyer, and then stockbroker. His mother was a homemaker known in the community for her civic involvement, particularly in local arts programs. In fact, it was MacLachlan’s mother who first encouraged him to try a “Teen Theater” program, drawing him in with the promise that there might also be girls in attendance.
But it took a minute for MacLachlan to genuinely embrace his calling. As a young adult, his father pushed him to study business, while his mother urged him to try PR or communications. His studies at the University of Washington weren’t going well, so he dropped out and worked at a manufacturing plant back in Yakima. It wasn’t until a girlfriend recommended a summer theater program in North Carolina that MacLachlan leaned back into his first real passion, eventually returned to school with a newfound focus, and was accepted into the University of Washington’s professional acting program.
Fast-forward 40 years, it’s impossible to imagine that MacLachlan would have anything else for Other Kyle to latch onto. For one, his acting resume is the stuff of thespian fantasy. Sure, “Dune” infamously flopped hard upon arrival, and all planned sequels were immediately canceled. But it wasn’t long before MacLachlan had teamed back up with his mentor, with whom he had developed an almost telepathic bond on “Dune,” to lead Lynch’s much more kindly received 1986 neo-noir arthouse entry, “Blue Velvet.” A few years later, the overwhelming success of the TV mystery series “Twin Peaks” propelled the actor to the upper stratosphere of celebrity.
“When we were working together creating Jeffrey in ‘Blue Velvet’ or [Coop in] ‘Twin Peaks,’ we would sit and talk or not talk, we melded together in some weird way, we were like one person,” MacLachlan says of his bond with Lynch, who died in early 2025 of cardiac arrest due to chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. “It was this very symbiotic kind of thing in front of the camera,” MacLachlan continues. “It was like this weird circular energy. … He’s the only director I share that with.”
And yet, breaking out of what MacLachlan refers to as “The Black Suit,” worn by his unceasingly chipper “Twin Peaks” character, Special Agent Dale Cooper, proved challenging. By the time “Twin Peaks” left the air in 1991, MacLachlan had grown ambivalent about the job that changed his life, partially because he felt Lynch didn’t fight hard enough to keep artistic control of the show’s second season, which saw the network upping its creative involvement and Lynch distancing himself until the final few episodes.
MacLachlan longed to diversify his output — to show that he was capable of being a mainstream Hollywood leading man, one who could interface with a variety of directors. In the book, he writes about jobs he comes so close to booking — roles in Robert Redford’s “A River Runs Through It” and Francis Ford Coppola’s “Dracula” — but losing out at the last minute.
He took these rejections hard at the time. Many decades later, however, he can see how he was the one holding himself back. “I felt like people were only seeing the black suit,” MacLachlan says. “Now, the truth is, they would probably have been more than happy to see me as somebody else, but I was not able to deliver. … I think there was a lot of insecurity,” he continues. “I was like, ‘Maybe it’s not the suit. Maybe it’s me.’”
As the 1990s played out, MacLachlan fought an on-again, off-again existential crisis regarding the type of actor he was really meant to be. His friend and former “Doors” co-star Val Kilmer urged him to accept a lead role in a BBC adaptation of Kafka’s “The Trial,” which didn’t move the cultural needle in the States, but did put him in the same room as enormously pedigreed actors like Anthony Hopkins and Alfred Molina. He snagged a role in a Paul Verhoeven film about topless dancers — a career risk he hoped would pay off but ultimately felt like “walking into a buzz saw,” as he writes in the book.
Despite the cult reappraisal of “Showgirls,” and the lasting popularity of “Sex and the City,” Other Kyle had a few things to say about both of these roles, but the Kyle sitting across from me has a much more measured approach, particularly to “Showgirls.”
“I think it’s fun that it’s still around,” MacLachlan says. “I’ll still argue with anyone that [says] it’s a good movie. It’s not a good movie, but it’s definitely an appreciated movie, and that is kind of where I leave it.”
In the early 2000s, his wife, PR executive Desiree Gruber, pushed him to accept a role in HBO’s “Sex and the City,” playing an Upper East Side doctor with erectile issues.
Portraying Trey MacDougal was a mixed bag for MacLachlan. On one hand, he was thrilled to be part of such a cultural juggernaut, and he delighted in the emphasis the show placed on female friendship and sexual agency.
At the same time, he had mixed feelings about playing an old-money mama’s boy with a Freudian Madonna-whore complex. Not to mention the sheer ridiculousness of the things the writers would have him do: One scene had him bent over a bathroom sink, masturbating to a pornographic magazine. A passage of “Fictional Selves” also recalls the cringe-inducing moment when Trey gives his wife, Charlotte (Kristin Davis), a cardboard cutout of a baby in an effort to make light of their struggle to conceive.
In the book, MacLachlan recalls being utterly dumbfounded at having been asked to do something so oblivious at best and cruel at worst. Eventually, however, he writes that he realized the writers just needed a way to foist him off the show. (His and Davis’ characters get divorced soon after the cardboard baby incident.)
“Every time I got a script, I’d be like, ‘Oh boy, OK, what’s going to happen here?’” MacLachlan says. “And then it would be, like, whatever they’ve come up with, ‘how can I shape it? What is it that [Trey’s] wrestling with? What are the issues here? Then, you know, realizing that in some cases it was just going to be a sight gag. Like, the Juggs magazine is going to be a sight gag. And as I said in the book, in my mind, I would sort of float away. I would be like, ‘That’s not really me. I don’t know who that is down there doing that.’”
As MacLachlan moved into middle age, he gradually grew more comfortable with the clean-cut oddball characters he’d so often be asked to play: a refined but possibly murderous dentist on “Desperate Housewives,” an idiosyncratic boat obsessive on “How I Met Your Mother,” an over-the-top civic leader on “Portlandia,” and, once again, Special Agent Dale Cooper (plus his doppelgängers) on “Twin Peaks: The Return.”
The 2017 “Twin Peaks” reboot would be the last big project MacLachlan would work on with Lynch, but MacLachlan would frequently visit the director in their shared Hollywood Hills neighborhood. “It’s many things,” MacLachlan says when I ask what he misses most about his friend and mentor. “The voice on the phone — ‘HEY, KALE! Come on up for coffee!’” he continues in a pitch-perfect Lynch imitation. (“Kale” became Lynch’s nickname for MacLachlan, referencing “Dune” producer Dino De Laurentiis’ Italian pronunciation.)
“Towards the end, I would go to visit him, and I would sometimes take my phone and record things. I still have these stories loaded in my iPhone — about ‘Dune,’ or a story about a moment in ‘Blue Velvet,’ or a story about when he met John Huston, or when he got a kiss from Elizabeth Taylor. … I have these little gems, and I savor those.”
Lately, Other Kyle has been replaced by Online Kyle, a goofy, lighthearted version of MacLachlan who primarily lives on TikTok and Instagram — thus the wholesome, Gen Z title of “Internet’s Dad.” And when he’s not playing a father to Ella Purnell on Prime Video’s hit “Fallout,” or interviewing a younger generation of entertainers on his podcast, “What Are We Even Doing,”MacLachlan is also someone’s real dad. One of the most endearing moments in our afternoon happens when his teenage son, Callum, calls looking for something around the house. “Oh, it’s in the fridge in the gym. In a foil. And there’s chicken in the fridge. Love you too,” MacLachlan tells his son.
There’s certainly no doubt that this Kyle doesn’t get in his head — or in his own way — the way earlier versions did. He’s still eager to test his limits as an actor, but he’s comfortable with the thought that there is no plan. “I want to keep working with interesting people,” he says with his trademark buoyancy. “I want to keep doing fun things. I want to keep being challenged. … I don’t really know where I’m going, but something will excite me, and I’d be like, ‘OK, what the hell?’ And I jump in.”
Brodsky is an L.A. culture and music writer. Her biography of Stevie Nicks “Lessons & Lace” is out now.
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