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?

4 Comments / Feb 18.10 / Etcetera, Featured, Originals / by Casanova Ruffin