Experiment_626
Stealth Geek
- Joined
- Jul 8, 2008
- Messages
- 1,652
I posted this elsewhere a couple of weeks ago, when we didn't get a new episode. I took advantage of the breather to take a look back at the show I've watched for six years, and I decided I'd share it here as well. It's a little long, but what the hey.
I thought it might be a good time to stop and take a look at where we've been, now that the final destination in our journey is just around the next bend.
I've never loved a show like I love Lost. Star Trek has been part of the material from which my life has been woven. But Lost is easily my favorite TV series, bar none -- which isn't a swipe at other shows, but a testament to just how good Lost has been for me. I am invested in the characters; I seriously hope to see all of them get a shot at redemption. And of course, there's also the rich, well-developed mythology that is keeping us guessing right up to the eleventh hour, even as we've been getting answers to some very long-running mysteries.
Looking back, I remember some of the comments I read here when the show began. I recall that someone referred to Sawyer as "that redneck." And of course, in the beginning Jin seemed to be in the running for biggest jerk/worst husband of all time. In contrast, by the third episode John Locke appeared to be The Man -- the coolest cucumber in the crisper. My, how things have changed! Jin revealed himself to be much more than he had seemed, and possibly a model for that to which husbands might even aspire. Sawyer ... well, early on I didn't know anything about Josh Holloway, and while I didn't dislike him, I wrote him off as competent, but mainly a pretty boy. But honestly, his work in the last few seasons has shown how far off I was with my initial assessment. He has really delivered the goods and made Sawyer a deeply-layered character. I remember that his performance in "The Brig," where he finally confronted the "real" Sawyer -- Anthony Cooper -- just blew me away. What a revelation. I expected anger and hatred in that collision, but the hurt underneath both was perfectly portrayed. It left me slack-jawed. I really believed in Sawyer at that point. Since then, he's continued to live up to that standard. Naveen Andrews made a former Iraqi Republican Guard officer into the character with whom I most identified -- something I never expected, nor could I explain why; I've never been in the military, let alone tortured anyone (beyond my younger brother, but I did that by smiling at him "just so"). Now, Sayid seems to be nearly without hope, and I'm dismayed at this turn for him -- but I haven't given up.
And as for John Locke ... I was into the show from the very beginning, but it was the first Locke-centric episode, "Walkabout," that cemented the show's hold on me. When we learned that Locke in the real world was nothing like the knife-slinging adventurer the man on the island first appeared to be, it was a model for questioning the assumptions we might otherwise form from the point forward. And even then, we still had no idea of the tragedies that formed this sad man's life. But that scene at the end of that episode, where the former paraplegic lay on the sand in the shadow of the twisted wreckage of Oceanic 815 and realized he could move his toes, and then was able to get to his feet ... the emotion, the joy on Terry O'Quinn's face amid all the pain and chaos around him was a transcendent moment, one many fans cite as their favorite of the series, and/or the scene that really sold them on the show. If that happened to me, I'd have believed in the island as well. I still hold out hope that somehow, the real John Locke will be given a chance at redemption before the final "thud."
So much has happened in the last six years that it is hard to single out much. Despite the different tone of pretty much every season, it now feels like all of a piece to me. More than most shows, they pick up threads from years earlier at a moment's notice as if they happened yesterday. Not everything will be addressed, I am sure, but it doesn't feel as if anything was simply forgotten.
I miss Mr. Eko. I would have liked to have seen his character develop as originally intended, but I'm more than happy with the show as it is.
I don't know how fans will feel once all is said and done. I'm sure there are many who will be disappointed for various reasons. For many, it will be because the show didn't turn out to be what they thought/hoped back when all the mysteries could still have gone in any direction. Personally, I almost don't care what the end brings. It is hard to imagine an ending so bad or dissatisfying that it could invalidate the enjoyment of watching and taking the journey for the last six years -- and of the mental workouts I've had discussing each episode here and elsewhere. All of that has been immensely enjoyable for me, and the ending is almost beside the point, at least, more so than I would have originally guessed. There are loads of HUGE expectations built up over a long time for most fans, and some are bound to be disappointed. It's just the nature of the Monstah -- er, beast. After all, in the beginning, the show could have been anything, and each viewer was free to imagine and theorize that it was going to be whatever he or she wanted -- a freedom we had for a long time. In the beginning, we didn't know much of anything. We didn't even get a glimpse of the actual Monstah until the first season finale -- and even then, we shared Jack and Kate's "Did we see what we think we saw?" puzzlement over what we were shown. Was that wisp of black smoke the Monstah? What's up with that?!? This allowed for the show to be, if not all things for all viewers, at least many things for most. Some gave up early because answers didn't come as quickly as they wanted. Some had what seemed like sour grapes, concluding that they were justified in not watching because clearly, in their minds, the producers and writers were obviously just making it up as they went. Answers not given when some viewers wanted them -- or plot points not addressed or at least acknowledged in what some felt was a timely manner -- were dismissed as having been "dropped" or forgotten. Now, it is clear to me that at least some of those conclusions were reached prematurely.
Lost is possibly the best example to date of a TV series produced in the Internet age. No other series is so minutely scrutinized and dissected as it airs. By the time an episode airs, the online community has produced virtual reams of writing on the episode from a week prior and speculation of what it all means in the grand scheme of the show's mythology (for example, witness the weekly threads I start here, which are just the tiniest tip of the online iceberg). Fan-produced podcasts alone can easily fill up the week between episodes, ranging from the enthusiastic to the measured to the ridiculously hypercritical. No other show, as far as I'm aware, engages the fan base as deeply as Lost at least while the series is still in production. Partly, of course, that's the nature of Lost's enigmatic core, but 25 years ago, this wouldn't have been possible. Today, we have a series in which the actors and various members of the production team did, for a while at least, answer the questions they reasonably could on a online forum. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse participate in an official podcast which, if not used for answering the show's deep mysteries (and rightfully so), was at least useful for debunking certain theoretical blind alleys fans might otherwise have traversed unknowingly -- and for its own unique entertainment value, as well as for hints as to what questions a viewer should be asking. Lost is a shining example of what might be called "participatory viewing," which is a lot more practical now than in the past. If the show had been produced in the early '90s, how many of us would have learned of the historical namesakes of John Locke, Danielle Rousseau, Desmond David Hume, and Jeremy Bentham? This sort of thing wasn't critical to enjoying the show, but now it is practical.
With all of this going on while the show is still on the air, imagine what will be generated in years to come ...
Other shows have been created in Lost's wake that attempt to capture some of whatever "it" is that Lost has. Most have failed (The Nine, Threshold and others) or are teetering on the brink (FlashForward, Heroes). Of all of these shows that Lost's success perhaps helped make possible, only Fringe has captured my personal attention in a way remotely similar. It is clearly a delicate balance. Mythology won't do it alone -- the characters have to come first.
To be sure, not every episode or every scene has been a grand success. I have come to believe that if you're creative and your every endeavor succeeds, you're probably not taking the creative risks you should be taking. But Lost's failures -- Nikki and Paulo, "Stranger in a Strange Land" -- have been a relative few.
I honestly don't know what I'll do once the show ends. Oh, my life will go on, certainly -- don't get me wrong -- but I'll definitely miss it, and I don't expect something else to fill this particular void anytime soon. I have a life, and things in it that are far more important than Lost or any other TV show -- but I sure have enjoyed this journey and I'll miss the particular niche it has filled each week. I am of the opinion that things which make you think make you smarter -- not because they present some sort of truth, but just because they make your mind more active -- just like being around an intelligent friend.
To J.J. Abrams, Damon Lindelof, and Carlton Cuse, I have to simply say "Thank you. It has been a joy. I'll follow wherever you go in the future, just to see what you're up to. Same goes for you, Terry O'Quinn, Michael Emerson, Josh Holloway, Naveen Andrews, Jorge Garcia, Daniel Dae Kim, Matthew Fox, Henry Ian Cusick, Yunjin Kim and Evangeline Lilly, Emilie de Ravin and the rest I forgot in this list."
Okay -- I'm done for now. What do the rest of you think?
I thought it might be a good time to stop and take a look at where we've been, now that the final destination in our journey is just around the next bend.
I've never loved a show like I love Lost. Star Trek has been part of the material from which my life has been woven. But Lost is easily my favorite TV series, bar none -- which isn't a swipe at other shows, but a testament to just how good Lost has been for me. I am invested in the characters; I seriously hope to see all of them get a shot at redemption. And of course, there's also the rich, well-developed mythology that is keeping us guessing right up to the eleventh hour, even as we've been getting answers to some very long-running mysteries.
Looking back, I remember some of the comments I read here when the show began. I recall that someone referred to Sawyer as "that redneck." And of course, in the beginning Jin seemed to be in the running for biggest jerk/worst husband of all time. In contrast, by the third episode John Locke appeared to be The Man -- the coolest cucumber in the crisper. My, how things have changed! Jin revealed himself to be much more than he had seemed, and possibly a model for that to which husbands might even aspire. Sawyer ... well, early on I didn't know anything about Josh Holloway, and while I didn't dislike him, I wrote him off as competent, but mainly a pretty boy. But honestly, his work in the last few seasons has shown how far off I was with my initial assessment. He has really delivered the goods and made Sawyer a deeply-layered character. I remember that his performance in "The Brig," where he finally confronted the "real" Sawyer -- Anthony Cooper -- just blew me away. What a revelation. I expected anger and hatred in that collision, but the hurt underneath both was perfectly portrayed. It left me slack-jawed. I really believed in Sawyer at that point. Since then, he's continued to live up to that standard. Naveen Andrews made a former Iraqi Republican Guard officer into the character with whom I most identified -- something I never expected, nor could I explain why; I've never been in the military, let alone tortured anyone (beyond my younger brother, but I did that by smiling at him "just so"). Now, Sayid seems to be nearly without hope, and I'm dismayed at this turn for him -- but I haven't given up.
And as for John Locke ... I was into the show from the very beginning, but it was the first Locke-centric episode, "Walkabout," that cemented the show's hold on me. When we learned that Locke in the real world was nothing like the knife-slinging adventurer the man on the island first appeared to be, it was a model for questioning the assumptions we might otherwise form from the point forward. And even then, we still had no idea of the tragedies that formed this sad man's life. But that scene at the end of that episode, where the former paraplegic lay on the sand in the shadow of the twisted wreckage of Oceanic 815 and realized he could move his toes, and then was able to get to his feet ... the emotion, the joy on Terry O'Quinn's face amid all the pain and chaos around him was a transcendent moment, one many fans cite as their favorite of the series, and/or the scene that really sold them on the show. If that happened to me, I'd have believed in the island as well. I still hold out hope that somehow, the real John Locke will be given a chance at redemption before the final "thud."
So much has happened in the last six years that it is hard to single out much. Despite the different tone of pretty much every season, it now feels like all of a piece to me. More than most shows, they pick up threads from years earlier at a moment's notice as if they happened yesterday. Not everything will be addressed, I am sure, but it doesn't feel as if anything was simply forgotten.
I miss Mr. Eko. I would have liked to have seen his character develop as originally intended, but I'm more than happy with the show as it is.
I don't know how fans will feel once all is said and done. I'm sure there are many who will be disappointed for various reasons. For many, it will be because the show didn't turn out to be what they thought/hoped back when all the mysteries could still have gone in any direction. Personally, I almost don't care what the end brings. It is hard to imagine an ending so bad or dissatisfying that it could invalidate the enjoyment of watching and taking the journey for the last six years -- and of the mental workouts I've had discussing each episode here and elsewhere. All of that has been immensely enjoyable for me, and the ending is almost beside the point, at least, more so than I would have originally guessed. There are loads of HUGE expectations built up over a long time for most fans, and some are bound to be disappointed. It's just the nature of the Monstah -- er, beast. After all, in the beginning, the show could have been anything, and each viewer was free to imagine and theorize that it was going to be whatever he or she wanted -- a freedom we had for a long time. In the beginning, we didn't know much of anything. We didn't even get a glimpse of the actual Monstah until the first season finale -- and even then, we shared Jack and Kate's "Did we see what we think we saw?" puzzlement over what we were shown. Was that wisp of black smoke the Monstah? What's up with that?!? This allowed for the show to be, if not all things for all viewers, at least many things for most. Some gave up early because answers didn't come as quickly as they wanted. Some had what seemed like sour grapes, concluding that they were justified in not watching because clearly, in their minds, the producers and writers were obviously just making it up as they went. Answers not given when some viewers wanted them -- or plot points not addressed or at least acknowledged in what some felt was a timely manner -- were dismissed as having been "dropped" or forgotten. Now, it is clear to me that at least some of those conclusions were reached prematurely.
Lost is possibly the best example to date of a TV series produced in the Internet age. No other series is so minutely scrutinized and dissected as it airs. By the time an episode airs, the online community has produced virtual reams of writing on the episode from a week prior and speculation of what it all means in the grand scheme of the show's mythology (for example, witness the weekly threads I start here, which are just the tiniest tip of the online iceberg). Fan-produced podcasts alone can easily fill up the week between episodes, ranging from the enthusiastic to the measured to the ridiculously hypercritical. No other show, as far as I'm aware, engages the fan base as deeply as Lost at least while the series is still in production. Partly, of course, that's the nature of Lost's enigmatic core, but 25 years ago, this wouldn't have been possible. Today, we have a series in which the actors and various members of the production team did, for a while at least, answer the questions they reasonably could on a online forum. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse participate in an official podcast which, if not used for answering the show's deep mysteries (and rightfully so), was at least useful for debunking certain theoretical blind alleys fans might otherwise have traversed unknowingly -- and for its own unique entertainment value, as well as for hints as to what questions a viewer should be asking. Lost is a shining example of what might be called "participatory viewing," which is a lot more practical now than in the past. If the show had been produced in the early '90s, how many of us would have learned of the historical namesakes of John Locke, Danielle Rousseau, Desmond David Hume, and Jeremy Bentham? This sort of thing wasn't critical to enjoying the show, but now it is practical.
With all of this going on while the show is still on the air, imagine what will be generated in years to come ...
Other shows have been created in Lost's wake that attempt to capture some of whatever "it" is that Lost has. Most have failed (The Nine, Threshold and others) or are teetering on the brink (FlashForward, Heroes). Of all of these shows that Lost's success perhaps helped make possible, only Fringe has captured my personal attention in a way remotely similar. It is clearly a delicate balance. Mythology won't do it alone -- the characters have to come first.
To be sure, not every episode or every scene has been a grand success. I have come to believe that if you're creative and your every endeavor succeeds, you're probably not taking the creative risks you should be taking. But Lost's failures -- Nikki and Paulo, "Stranger in a Strange Land" -- have been a relative few.
I honestly don't know what I'll do once the show ends. Oh, my life will go on, certainly -- don't get me wrong -- but I'll definitely miss it, and I don't expect something else to fill this particular void anytime soon. I have a life, and things in it that are far more important than Lost or any other TV show -- but I sure have enjoyed this journey and I'll miss the particular niche it has filled each week. I am of the opinion that things which make you think make you smarter -- not because they present some sort of truth, but just because they make your mind more active -- just like being around an intelligent friend.
To J.J. Abrams, Damon Lindelof, and Carlton Cuse, I have to simply say "Thank you. It has been a joy. I'll follow wherever you go in the future, just to see what you're up to. Same goes for you, Terry O'Quinn, Michael Emerson, Josh Holloway, Naveen Andrews, Jorge Garcia, Daniel Dae Kim, Matthew Fox, Henry Ian Cusick, Yunjin Kim and Evangeline Lilly, Emilie de Ravin and the rest I forgot in this list."
Okay -- I'm done for now. What do the rest of you think?