Lostified

I was planning on waiting till I actually finished the second season to write this, but, with just four episodes (including the double-length finale) to go, I think now will work.

I still think there are shows that work better, but I'm beginning to appreciate Lost's elegant sleight of hand. I stand by my criticisms of the first season—all tease and empty promises—but I think the second season improved on nearly every front. (It’s worth pointing out that one could easily understand season 2 by watching the season 1 finale and that episode’s 3 minute recap, which just goes to show how little actual development there was in the first season). In season 2, there is, if not much actual progress toward a Grand Design, at least the feeling of some groaning movement. The multiple hatches, the button, the film reel, the captured Other, the unblocked memories of Ethan and the medical room—it seems to suggest something that all fits together. A savvy viewer could make a vague guess about what’s going on, and while there’s certainly nothing approaching definitive, the range of possibility has been narrowed. Foggy as it may be, a shape appears to be forming in the distance.

Along those lines, one of the things I was thinking about this weekend was what that shape might look like. And if the island doesn’t provide too many clues, the show’s narrative patterns might. All along we’ve been made to think of the Others as sinister, and we’re constantly led to assume that the island’s spooks represent some sort of threat. But one of the show’s hallmarks has been introducing characters and elements that initially seem malicious, only to be softened and humanized by the revelation of a backstory. Jin, at first, seemed cruel and controlling—but we were eventually made to care for him. Shannon appeared to be a selfish and petulant—but her exit episode sent her out with sympathy. Ana Lucia and Mr. Eko (indeed, the whole plane-tail crew) were made out to be scary, but again, they were just misunderstood. The show’s constant refrain is that mystery is frightening—a threat that causes panicked reactions. But when one stops to get to know the story behind that mystery, it's no longer so scary.

What if the island and its myriad threats follow this same pattern? It seems possible, and it’s even been setup to some extent: In the flashbacks, Ethan seemed to be a reasonable guy out to help Claire (we don’t know that Alex’s warnings were true); the Greenpeace traitor in the second group said that the list is made up of “good people,” and that the taken were actually better off. And the island itself seems to possess good properties; it heals people and delivers them food by way of parachute. In a show that strives for strangeness, for wholly unexpected twists, and yet also for a proud, respectful view of human ability, it seems at least possible that the seemingly malicious island is, in fact, not the threat it appears to be.

As for Ross Douthat’s criticism about the lack of organized society in the second season, well, I actually found that far more annoying in the first few episodes of the first season. The immediate aftermath of a major collective trauma is the time when people tend to come together and work for a singular purpose. But, as we’ve seen in our post 9/11 country, that unity quickly fades. I’d have liked to see a bit more togetherness early on, but at this point, the show has pretty well established that a mostly libertarian, every-man-for-himself ethos is simply going to rule; there are too many obstinate folks and self-certain power centers working at cross purposes to do otherwise. In fact, one underlying motif to which the show often returns is a critique of such a selfish, free-market system*—something that Ross ought to appreciate.

*The best example of this was from early on in the first season when Jack needed some medicine from Sawyer, who glibly responded with something to the effect of, “I don’t know what kind of commie joint you’re running over there but possession is nine tenths of the law and a man’s got a right to protect his property.” Also, whichever writer supplies Sawyer’s unending supply of quips deserves some sort of special award for snarky brilliance.