You’ve “Lost” Me
WORDS BY J. CLAIBORNE BOWDON
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Folks, it all seems so obvious now: we’ve been watching an extended, metaphorical riff of a Ronald Dahl adaptation; last night’s episode made it all so clear. The island is Willy Wonka’s factory, Hurley is Augustus Gloop, Sawyer is Veruca Salt, Locke is Mike TeeVee, Jack is Charlie Bucket, and Sayid is Violet Beauregard. Somewhere, in a Victorian mansion that is even more dimly lit than usual, the curtains are even more drawn, and the slow strains of a small, black-clad chamber music ensemble echo through the cavernous ballroom where Tim Burton sits in the pale glow of FTD.com on his computer screen as he drafts a somber note of congratulations to go with the black roses he is sending to J.J. Abrams. I’m just kidding, but are they?
I gave up on “Lost” about two seasons ago, but here I am; suckered in with gritted teeth for the denouement of something that refuses to help itself. I’ve come back to find that not only are they still wasting a third of each episode with scenes that boil down to one character yelling “YES!” and the other character softly replying “No,” but now we have gods, demi-or otherwise, skulking around the island, and one of them comes with no less than three reverent disciple factions that have all shown up too late to be of any help to their devotional focus, to say nothing of the plot. If you’re going to keep adding characters why don’t you have a guest spot from “The Great Gazoo,” you know, some out of left field, all powerful presence that can make anything possible? All I’m saying is, if you’re going to take the teeth out of everything you’ve worked towards, why not have some fun with it?
The most disappointing reveal of “Lost” has been, and always will be, that the show-runners didn’t have a real sense of where everything was going, and I understand that. The fact that “jump the shark” was born out of a TV show is no surprise. TV shows, typically, go until they can’t go anymore, and often past that (hence the phrase), but this TV show was supposed to be different. This was a series with a different approach and big ideas that would trust the intelligence of the viewer. It started out that way, but soon viewers looked at all of this narrative sleight-of-hand nonsense and worried that all the hand-flapping was all there was. Feeling that the natives were restless, the network and creators announced a definitive end date for the show, but the damage had already been done. They had already admitted that they were making it up as they went. This would not be a tautly crafted, fine tuned, robust feat of graceful execution. This show would eventually corner itself on its way to wherever it was going, and in its desperation it would find a way out that would betray everything that came before and poison everything that came after. It’s all the more disappointing because I’ve seen deftly constructed TV shows live up to everything that was promised and built-up in the viewer’s expectations, and without compromises.
If you haven’t heard, or seen an episode, of “Cowboy Bebop,” well, as my poetry professor said to a kid in my class who said he hadn’t read “Heart of Darkness,” “I am so jealous of you. To experience it all fresh and new again would be an opportunity I would savor.” I’m not a fan of anime or manga or any of the many genres and sub-genres of Japanese animation, but I have nothing but respect and admiration for “Cowboy Bebop.” I, like most people, came to the series through “Adult Swim” on Cartoon Network. I was stunned. The fact that all of the music in each episode was made just for the series is enough to impress, and it just further hammers home that this is a complete and total work of art. One with a definitive, satisfying end because that’s the way it was designed. There are 26 episodes (or “sessions”) in all, no more, no less. In look and feel its counterpart is Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner”: a long saxophone-noted, sci-fi pastiche of eras and cultures that ruminates on the monotony of existence, and the small, coveted moments that break in and shake off the apathy life induces.
Check out one of the best scenes from the series, and if you like it pick up the series on DVD because it’s definitely the novel to “Lost’s” comic book: a standalone blueprint instead of a milked series of storylines that clumsily knot or are left hanging when all’s said and done. And keep watching “Lost.” I’m seeing it through because I’m still hoping that the show will somehow stick the landing, and if it does it will be a more triumphant and beautiful moment than when Kerri Strug took that last vault in the 1996 Olympics. I’m hoping, but I’m not hopeful.
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CB is definitely a sexier pre-cursor to Joss Whedon’s Firefly.MaekoI’m still drawn in by LOST. I always will be. There’s something about cliff hangers and twists that gets me every time, and I don’t mind how they make stuff up on the fly. It keeps me on my toes. It’s sort of how my writing goes, so I can empathize.
added these pithy words on
Feb 18 10 at
10:49 am
added these pithy words on In my experience some of the best stuff you come up with on whatever you’re working on comes in the heat of a deadline. Figuring out how to jump to the next point in the midst of something is thrilling and great, and they’ve produced some iconic, touching moments in this show, but to play fast and loose with the major plot points and their resolution just comes off as sloppy to me. The way things are headed seems like taking the easy way out, but I’ve been entirely wrong about this show before, hopefully will be again.Jcbowdon
added these pithy words on
Feb 18 10 at
12:02 pm
I’ve made peace with the fact that the show is being made up along the way and yet I don’t care. I have loved the journey the show has taken me. Plus the last episode, the funeral of *spoiler* Locke by the survivors was one of my favorite moments in the shows history.ishzendejas
added these pithy words on
Feb 18 10 at
12:32 pm
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