Friday, July 10, 2009

Lost: 4x10-4x14

The fourth season of Lost was by far the series’ most consistent, so it stands to reason that where other seasons fluctuated wildly between drawn out, boring middle patches, and brilliant finales, the gap between regular episode and finale would be less in this season. The finale is still strong, with a couple of great moments, but in general, feels more like just putting together a bunch of pieces we already knew than progressing the story in a totally unexpected fashion. Those story developments needed to happen, but I almost wish we had to get to them an episode earlier, then gotten a bit more new stuff in the finale.

As it is, I’d argue the season’s high point was Ben’s trip through time in “The Shape of Things to Come,” an episode that contained the season’s biggest “game changing” moment and solidified Ben as the series’ central actor, pushing all the stories forward just as he pushed the wheel of spacetime forward at the end here. In general, that episode spoke to the divide between the characters who are still interesting, and those who have basically exhausted themselves.

Jack and Kate are certainly exhausted at this point. Both were fairly simple characters to begin with, and hammering the same beats over the course of many flashbacks didn’t help them. Turning Kate into a protective mother in the flashforwards seems like the most easy and obvious way to go with a female character. I’m sure we’ll see Kate in action at some points this year, but most likely just in service of protecting her ‘son,’ and I think that’s a boring direction. It worked great with Ripley in Aliens, but I don’t see any particular motivation for Kate’s motherhood all of a sudden, why would someone who was all about running earlier in her life all of a sudden decide to settle down?

The reason is that she’s got to be a contrast to Jack, who’s gradually sliding back into bad old habits. We see their relationship dramatized in fast forward, jumping from engagement to separation in a few flashbacks. Jack is playing the same beats we saw in his flashbacks with Sarah, and apart from the intriguing appearance of his dad, not too much exciting happens there.

You’d think that the flashforward structure would make the island action largely irrelevant, but in most cases, I found myself still preferring the island stuff to the flashforwards. For one, it’s still where most of the narrative momentum is, and where most of the questions are. The flashforwards, though far superior to the flashbacks, still suffer from the fact that the characters are disconnected from the island and the core mystical experience of the show. There’s more questions raised and answered, but apart from Sayid and Sun’s stuff, we’re getting that much real forward movement.

But, the on the island action is better than ever. Though the ultimate scene in the cabin was a bit anticlimactic, I enjoyed Locke, Hurley and Ben’s trip to see Jacob in “Cabin Fever,” particularly Locke’s dream vision of Horace Mathematician, raising again the specter of Ben’s past destruction of the Dharma Initiative. I loved seeing them in their heyday in “Man Behind the Curtain,” and I’m hoping we’ll get another glimpse in the not too distant future.

The cabin scene itself had the feel of Twin Peaks’ Red Room, it’s a classic other space, with spatial temporal properties that don’t adhere to the typical rules of behavior. Based on what we see in this episode, and the finale, it seems like Christian Shepard has become a form through which the island can present itself to others, and enact its will. How he will contrast to the eventual appearance of Jacob remains to be seen, but his appearance to Claire, and his later appearance to Michael indicates that he’s a form through which the island can enact its will. Claire’s chilled out demeanor in the cabin raises a lot of questions, she’s more interesting now than she ever was during her many normal days on the island.

Starting last year, but coming to prominence in this season is the notion of the island exerting a will of its own over characters. It feels that Michael has a role to play, and he’s not allowed to die until that role is finished. This recalls The Invisibles’ cosmological structure, which posed that each character has a specific role to play in the realization of an end, in that case, the supercontext, and that our choices will inevitably result in that end. With the introduction of time travel as a prominent element in the final episode, it’s clear that some of that predestination, fate vs. free will thematic exploration will come to the fore in the next season.

The moving of the island scene is the high point of the finale for me. It’s the only scene in the episode that recaptures the feeling of religious otherness that made the season two finale so special. Ben starts out in a scientific space, the video cues us to view this as similar to the Hatch we saw previously in the second season. But, after he blows through the hatch, he finds himself in a strange fantasy realm, where all of a sudden it’s cold, and there’s an ancient looking wheel that can activate travel through spacetime. As he turns the wheel, we see everyone connected by a strange feeling, again echoing the explosion of the hatch in season two, then the island disappears, and we don’t see it again this year.

After Ben leaves, Locke moves on to take his place as leader of the Others. This is a plot development that was teased in season three, as well as in Locke’s flashbacks, and finally comes to fruition here. Why doesn’t Richard lead the tribe himself? I’m guessing we’ll see more of the mechanics of the hostiles/others society next season. The axis of conflict has now shifted from others/castaways to the island vs. society. And, because we’ve watched this whole show about the island, I’m more inclined to side with the mystical reverence of Locke than with the people who just want to get home.

This episode does feature a key development in the Locke/Jack rivalry, as Jack’s lie indicates that Jack accepts that Locke was right, at least to some extent. There is a mystical piece of the island, and it may be guiding them forward to a specific destiny. I’m guessing that season five will focus largely on Jack dealing with that realization, as he struggles to get back to the island and correct the mistake he made by leaving in the first place. Where does Locke’s dead body, and the alias Jeremy Bentham factor into this? I don’t know that yet.

Though I found some of the finale a bit perfunctory, I thought the boat escape and explosion stuff was really well executed. The ferrying of passengers between the island and the boat, accompanied by a great score cue, was very visual and dynamic. And, the explosion of the boat, as Jin tried to get their attention was a great moment. I’m sure he’s still out there somewhere, we didn’t see a body.

Desmond and Penny’s reunion was also really well done, a great payoff to their long separation. Though, it does leave me questioning where the character will go in the next season. We’ve still got Ben’s desire to kill Penny out there, so perhaps he and Desmond will come into conflict over that.

But, the character who impressed me the most in the finale, and has grown the most in general, is Sawyer, who’s right up there with Ben and Locke as the most compelling characters on the series. He definitely started out as a riff on the Han Solo archetype, but he’s grown into the hero role subtly over the past few seasons, and now is the one to step up and sacrifice himself and stay on the island so everyone else can leave. It’s a great moment, and I like him and Juliet sitting on the empty beach, wondering what’s going to happen now that everyone else has left.

So, season four ends with most of the answers from the season three cliffhanger answered, but a lot of stuff still in flux. I think this was easily the series’ best season, and it just flew by. I’d imagine watching seven months after season three, and seven months from season five, it had to be a bit frustrating since it’s very much a middle act. A lot of new elements are introduced, and the scope of the story is vastly expanded, but not much is resolved, and we’re still waiting to get to the real story about what’s up with Daniel, Charlotte and Miles. I’m guessing now that there’s fewer people on the island, we’ll see more of them, and I hope so. They all have potential as characters.

In general, I’m much more interested in seeing what happens on the island, and I’m hoping they don’t elide over the three years spent there without Jack and Kate, just to keep the ostensible stars of the show in the spotlight. I want to see how Locke runs the island now that he’s got everything he wanted, and I want to see whether Sawyer and Juliet join up with him, or try to keep their own society going. What does Sawyer do now that he’s decided he’s not going back to society, and that the island will be his world? And how will Ben get back to the island?

I’m sure Jack and co. will get back eventually, but I’m not as concerned with that. That said, I think all the plots are in a really interesting place, and most of the characters are a lot more interesting than they were at the beginning of the season. Sun’s proposal to Widmore, Sayid’s work with Ben, the scope of the show has expanded, and I’m curious to see how all the threads will tie together.

X-Men: Manifest Destiny and The Immortal Iron Fist: The Last Iron Fist Story

Matt Fraction is a comics writer who I’d heard about for a while, and always seemed like the kind of writer I’d be into should I read his stuff. I read the first volume of Casanova a while back, and enjoyed a lot of it, but also found it a bit convoluted, full of great ideas, but without the emotional grounding to make them meaningful. The reason I’d argue Morrison is the greatest comics writer, and I’d go so far as straight up greatest writer around, is that even as he’s spitting out a ton of crazy ideas on each page, he still emphasizes the character’s emotion. A classic case is Robin’s return from the supercontext in the last issue of The Invisibles, the first time through, I didn’t know what was happening, but he made me feel what was happening.

In comics, there’s a lot of lower tier writers who can spin ideas and do the crazy pop Kirby inspired Silver Age madness, think Ellis, Joe Casey or Fraction, but few of them manage to capture very real emotion amidst the craziness. That was my problem with Casanova, I really liked it, but it was too surface cool to really dig in deep emotionally.
After reading the first volume of his Iron Fist run, and the first volume of his X-Men, I’ve got similar feelings, I liked them both, but didn’t quite love them.

Of course, I should add that both these books were co-written with Ed Brubaker. Brubaker’s a guy who is frequently hailed, but I’ve never read anything by him that I loved. The first volume of Gotham Central played exactly as it was pitched, Homicide or Law and Order in the DCU. And, if I don’t watch Law and Order for free on TV, why would I want to pay $10 to read the equivalent of one episode. The first volume of his Catwoman was alright, but I didn’t think much of his X-Men run. Deadly Genesis was yet another attempt to write “The Anatomy Lesson,” playing off past history rather than doing anything interesting and new. As a long time X-Men fan, it’s probably the worst X-Men comic I’ve ever read, just misconceived on every level. The lengthy journey to Shiar space in his run proper wasn’t much better. I hate writers who use the “long lost brother” as a shortcut to build character rather than just making a character who’s interesting on his own terms.

As someone who approaches works from an auteurist perspective, that makes it difficult, particularly when I’m going in with the bias that I want to like Fraction’s stuff and I dislike Brubaker’s stuff. At least in the X-Men, Fraction took over as the sole writer after this batch of issues, so I’m guessing most of the direction was his, Iron Fist I’m not so sure.

I’m getting more acclimated to the DCU, but I’m still not totally sure about all the characters and worlds there. However, I’ve read the vast majority of important X-Men stories ever written, so I can easily jump into that universe. In these issues, we see the X-Men starting up a new status quo in San Francisco, one that follows thematically off a lot of what Grant was doing in his run. In discussing his run, Grant talked about how writing X-Men is like doing jazz riffs on the original Claremont run. These issues remind me the most of the Paul Smith era, where the team had a lot of downtime, and there was a heavy emphasis on personal relationships, mixed with a bit of the Romita era struggle between mutants and humans.

Smith was my favorite era on the book, and transporting that feel to the present day with Grant’s mutants as metaphor for gay people/evolutionary force outracing the ‘cavemen’ works well. This feels very hopeful and progressive in the same way as the early days of New X-Men, before the characters got trapped in their own soap opera. Thematically, this is a more logical followup to Grant’s run than Whedon’s Astonishing run, which had its moments, but felt more like it was looking back. This run feels a bit like Volume III of The Invisibles, in the sense that the X-Men have won the war, they’ve evolved and they’re just waiting for the world to catch up.

I think some moments work better than others, but in general I like the forward thinking celebrity take on the team, and the street level day after tomorrow style reality based approach to the concept. I like how everyone seems so relaxed, and is actually enjoying themselves for once.

I’m also intrigued by the return of Maddy Pryor. I loved the character, and don’t like to see her turned into a villain, but perhaps she’ll function more as a manifestation of Scott’s guilt about both abandoning Maddy, and leaving Jean for Emma.

But, the book isn’t quite perfect. The biggest issue from a narrative point of view is the disconnect between the mutant de-powering and the story Fraction is trying to tell. If there’s only 198 mutants left in the world, why would a group like the Hellfire Cult still exist? Grant’s X-Men hinged on the revelation that humanity would become extinct a few years into the future, so it made sense to build a mutant society. Here, it’s the opposite, and the structure would make so much more sense if mutants really were coming into prominence, not barely surviving.

I suppose the point is that finding a mutant baby gave them hope for the future, but I think with 198 left in the entire world, things would be a bit more dire. This is not to mention the absurdity of so many mutants losing their powers, but none of the major characters getting depowered.

The other issue is the much criticized, and in most cases deservedly so, art of Greg Land. I don’t hate Land’s art at all times, but I find his weird traced air brushed style falls into uncanny valley territory, so close to real that it seems more fake than, say, the randomly placed Terry Dodson pages in #500. And, his much commented on tracing of porn faces definitely shows up in his drawings of Emma Frost. He’s not totally awful, I think the scene in the club with Dazzler at the end works pretty well, but I’d have much rather seen someone like Phil Jiminez on the book, who could bring the pop sexy aesthetic Fraction is going for, without going into creepy un-sexy like Land.

But, I definitely liked it, I think it’s a more compelling new direction for the book than we’ve seen from Brubaker or Carey, and definitely calls back to the Morrison era, which I love. I’ll be picking up the next trade next time I’m at a comic store.

His Iron Fist was objectively a better comic. It’s a more ambitious story, and moves much faster and further than the X-Men issues do. The comic reminded me of Casanova, in its emphasis on pop moments. There’s a lot of scenes in there that are the sort of fanboy “fuck yeah” moments, hundreds of ninjas battling an Iron Fist who can use his powers to charge the bullets of his gun, and blowing up a train with women who turn into birds. This is all great stuff.

The problem is I found it hard to emotionally relate to most of what was going on. Part of it was unfamiliarity with the world, or current status quo of Iron Fist, but it was also due to the art. I think Aja’s art on the book is aesthetically astounding, these are gorgeous, moody pages, that rank among the most striking art I’ve seen in a long time. The problem is, I found it hard to emotionally relate to the characters because of all the shadows and moodiness. If you can’t see Danny’s face in the mask, and can barely see it out of the mask, how can you get a sense of who he is?

But, I definitely liked the story on the whole, and will probably check out the next volume. And I hope we get to see more of Luke Cage, Colleen and Misty Knight, their entrance in the last issue is one of the best moments in the comic.

So, is Fraction the next great comics writer? Perhaps, I’m not totally sold yet, but I’m intrigued by this work, and I’ll be checking out more to see how he develops.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Lost: 4x01-4x09

As I mentioned, I’ve been rolling along through Lost’s fourth season. A Fourth of July weekend spent watching many episodes has me backlogged for blogging, just writing about it as I’m approaching the end of another season already.

When I started rewatching Lost, I was fine with revisiting episodes I’d already seen, but it’s this territory of the show that I was really curious about, the moment where people stopped complaining about it and started embracing it again. I’d heard a lot of wild things about what happened in the two most recent seasons, and to date, I’d say that the fourth season is by far the most consistent, and pretty easily its best, though some of the problems of the past do still persist. But, in general I’ve been really impressed by the way they restructured the series, and turned the persistent generation of questions rather than answers into a strength, making it possible to keep us interested in the events of both the present on island timeline, and the future “Oceanic Six” stuff.

The biggest surprise for me so far has been the fact that even after nine episodes, the six people to be rescued still haven’t made it off the island. Following the revelations of “Through the Looking Glass,” I assumed we’d take an episode, maybe two of three at most, to get Jack and co. off the island, then split our time between on island storylines and off. It obviously didn’t turn out that way, since we’re almost at the end of the season, and no one’s even left. So, I’m assuming that the Six won’t actually leave until the season finale, and presumably they won’t be leaving on the freighter as originally assumed.

One of the best choices the producers made was setting up the idea that a limited number of people make it off the island, and raising the question of how both Hurley and Jack could make it off the island, if Hurley goes with Locke’s nativist crew to the Others’ camp. What series of events could occur to bring Hurley, Jack and Kate back together to get off the island? That’s the question underlying the first couple of episodes.

The highlight of the first episode was definitely the disorienting sequence where Hurley encounters Jacob’s cabin in the woods, and trips out as its spatial orientation seemingly shifts around him. I loved the original Jacob’s cabin sequence, and am really interested in seeing Hurley, Locke and Ben get back there, which will presumably happen in the upcoming episode “Cabin Fever.” But, this glimpse of it was enough to intrigue for the next batch of episodes.

It’s probably a bit hypocritical to criticize the show for the random mysticism of something like the Smoke Monster, then rank the random appearances of Jacob’s cabin as one of my favorite things on here. I think the reason the cabin works is because it’s a more benign fear. There’s nothing inherently menacing about the cabin out there in the woods, but it has such an aura around it, partially because of how Ben described it when he and Locke traveled there, but also due to the way its presented in the story. It’s like how in Doctor Who, I could tell that the Daleks were a huge deal, even though I’d never seen the old show. Just the way that they were presented made it clear this mattered, and that’s how it feels with Jacob’s cabin. I also think the presentation of the physical cabin is more effective than the CG smoke monster, though the monster does get a great moment in “The Shape of Things to Come.”

Anyway, the next episode introduces a bunch of new characters, all of whom seem pretty interesting, though they haven’t gotten the chance to do that much yet. One thing that’s interesting about the season is the way that the pacing makes it feel like very little time has passed, I’d guess it’s maybe five days since the season finale nine episodes in, but it still feels like a lot of stuff has happened. The people from the freighter aren’t that well established, most of them slipping into the background following their spotlight episode, but Faraday and Miles both have had some good moments, and I think they all had pretty compelling introductions.

The nature of their mission has become a bit clearer as the season has gone on. It seems like they’ve been sent by Widmore to capture Ben, so that Widmore can get Ben out of the way and take over the island, using it to forward his own interests. Based on the flashforward in “The Shape of Things to Come,” it seems like the mission goes awry, possibly thanks to Michael sabotaging the boat, and Widmore is now scrambling to find another way to the island. Based on the information I’ve got now, it seems like Widmore is involved with the Dharma Initiative in some way, and he knows about Ben releasing poison gas to kill the Dharma people a few years back.

The question arises of when exactly that gassing scene was supposed to take place. It’s hard to say based on the actor’s age, but considering the clothes they were all wearing, it seemed like it was the 80s at latest, though perhaps fashions change slower on the island. Either way, it seems like there’s been an eternal struggle between forces seeking to use the island for the betterment of the mainland, and the Hostiles/Others, who want to keep the island to themselves. Ben, like Locke, now finds himself a disciple of the island, seeking to defend it from all who would attempt to use it for their own agenda.

It’s also notable that at this point in the show’s run, virtually all of the original characters are essentially irrelevant to the show’s master narrative. I’m sure people debate endlessly the question of whether the creators had a plan from the beginning, or if they’ve been making it up, a debate which I’d argue is predicated on a false legitimacy of some original plan. The world that you create on paper and the world that exists when something is actually made is hugely different, and it makes sense to make the best use of the resources you have.

I’ve already mentioned how the show seems to “burn” through its characters because it doesn’t really let them grow. Sun and Jin have moved forward to some extent, but they haven’t really changed that much because of the island. Their relationship has moved to a stasis point, but there hasn’t been the sort of really dynamic character growth you see on something like Buffy or The Sopranos. The greatest strength of Buffy is the way that the characters feel totally different in season six versus season one, to the point that just jumping from one to the other you’d probably think it’s impossible that these could be the same people. But, watching the show, you see the gentle evolution that moves them forward, and makes it clear that it’s the same person underneath. Sun and Jin, or Claire or even Jack and Kate are basically the exact same people they were in season one, it’s only their circumstances that have changed.

The lengthy reliance on the flashback structure precluded a serious evolution of character, because the structure made all character evolution a function of past experience. I think that was a huge mistake because it prevents people from changing based on what was presumably the biggest trauma/moment of their lives, the plane crash itself.

The characters who remain interesting and relevant to the plot are the ones who’ve changed on the island. Locke is the central example, he has a key role in the island mythology, and with the death of his father, he’s definitively severed ties to the man he once was.

Sawyer has also remained prominent, and made the very relevant point to Kate that there’s no reason for him to go back to the mainland. He’s got a better life on the island than on the mainland, and through his transformation into something of a hero, he’s proven that he can be a better person. His relationship with Kate is handled in a really strange way, as she continually uses him, with no particular motivation behind her actions. I suppose she’s mad at him for being happy that she isn’t pregnant, but should that be the only thing directing her behavior. Shouldn’t she be right with Sawyer on not wanting to go back home?

Her character is written in a nonsensical way most of the time, veering from damsel in distress at the start of season three to competent action hero later on. Here, we see her in the future back home, and still get little insight into her behavior. Why does she keep so distanced from Jack? Why does she choose to take on care of Aaron?

One thing that always bothers me in works of fiction, particularly TV shows, is when female characters get pregnant. I think being pregnant is often done as a cheap cliffhanger, like “I love you” to bring gravity to a character’s relationship without really justifying it. And, being pregnant invariably makes the woman a weaker character. So, it bothers me to put such emphasis on all the female characters as potential baby growing engines, which is what Juliet’s presence, and the question of the mysterious pregnant woman deaths on the island does. And, making Kate a mother off the island only dulls that character as well. Can’t one woman on the show be defined by not being a mother or potential mother? How long until we get to the flashback where we find out that Juliet became a fertility doctor because she couldn’t get pregnant herself?

In light of the Jack/Kate continued flirtation, the seemingly developing relationship between Jack and Juliet feels odd. The writers continually bounce back and forth, with no insight into why the characters are behaving the way they are. Why not bring all that tension to the surface and resolve it once and for all? But, I suppose it gives those characters something to do, since they’re all pretty much irrelevant to the overall plot of the show.

But, I don’t really miss any of those original characters, largely because they’re not as interesting as the new people. Ben, Desmond, Charles Widmore, even the freighter people are all more dynamic than most of the originals. I think a major part of that is the fact that the show started out dealing with a whole bunch of different types of characters on an island trying to survive. That’s not what the show is about at this point. It’s about some kind of long lasting, globe spanning power struggle for control of a mysterious island. So, people like Sun and Jin don’t have a huge role to play in that power struggle. I still think their individual episodes are effective, and I’d argue that you could give the characters more stuff to do, particularly Jin, but the way they’re written that doesn’t happen.

So, Ben basically takes over the show, and it seems like the central conflict will involve Ben trying to kill Penny Widmore as revenge, possibly manipulating Desmond as a way to find her. That will bring Desmond in conflict with Ben, but Ben will surely try to manipulate and control the situation.

I should mention a bit about “The Constant,” an episode that seems to be one of, if not the show’s most beloved. I went in with those expectations, and as such probably wasn’t as blown away as most people. I think that the stuff with Penny and Desmond in “Flashes Before Your Eyes” was more effective than the army scenes, but I did love the implications of Desmond and Faraday figuring out the nature of his time travel. The question that still lingers is whether Desmond always did these things in the past, and he’s just playing out a time loop now, or if he’s actually changing the future by doing this.

But, the high point of the episode was definitely the phone call between Penny and Desmond at the end. I love the idea that the love the two of them share is what connects them across time, and is what ultimately anchors him in the present. It’s a very efficient metaphor, and the emotion of their reunion, even if it was only on the phone was palpable. In speaking to her, he not only vindicates his sanity and save himself, he also proves that she still loves him, he’s got someone waiting for him when he gets home. So, it was definitely a great episode, though I wouldn’t say it’s the series’ best.

“The Other Woman” indulged in a lot of old Lost bad habits, particularly the nonsensical motivations of Charlotte and Dan in the power station. If their goal all along was to turn off the gas, why not tell Kate that rather than act all mysterious and smack her on the head with the gun? If it was to release the gas, why stop just because Juliet is there? Either way, it makes no sense. That said, I did like the way that Ben made such a point of saying that he owned Juliet. The scene worked, but because the characters have been separated for so long, it didn’t have any immediate relevance to what was going on. As played, it became an excuse for Jack and Juliet to kiss in the present.

This season also brings us the return of Michael, which was spoiled a bit by Harold Perrineau’s presence in the credits from the start. I’d been vaguely aware that he’d return to the show at some point, but his appearance would have been a bigger surprise had he not been in the credits for six episodes before appearing. “Meet Kevin Johnson” wasn’t a season highlight, but it’s interesting to see him back, dealing with the consequences of what he did. His flashback story prefigures the sort of existential post island trauma that Jack and Hurley deal with in their respective flashforwards.

The flashforwards do invert the show’s structure, and to some extent the show’s axis of action has moved off the island, but even there, it’s not really about what our characters are going through. The off island action that matters is the Widmore and Ben stuff. I loved the reveal at the end of “The Economist” that Sayid was working for Ben. In general, Sayid is much more interested as the emotionally burnt out James Bond figure than doing yet another guilt about torturing flashback.

The flashforwards work because we’re inherently more interested in them than in the past stuff. I suppose at one time there was a novelty to being like what was Boone up to off the island or something like that. Now there’s a novelty in seeing what people do after they’re rescued, and also finding out who was rescued in the first place. Most importantly, we’ve got this ongoing mystery of why they chose to lie about what happened on the island, which all connects to the ongoing Ben/Widmore conflict. But, it’s still at the core the same structure as the flashbacks, juxtaposing the island story with another thematically connected story. The difference is that now we’re actually interested in both sides of the story.

The Ben/Widmore conflict came to a head in what I’d say was the best episode of the season to date, “The Shape of Things to Come,” which throws the little society Locke has created into chaos when the freighter people come to retrieve Ben. I loved seeing Ben get gradually more freedom in the camp, he knows exactly how best to play Locke to get what he wants. I also liked the nod to Philip K. Dick’s Valis, which deals a lot with the will of a mysterious godlike entity, in this case the pink lazer called Zebra. I’ll have to see how the season plays out to see if the Valis nod has any deeper meaning.

Anyway, everything gets kicked up a notch when Ben fortifies his camp and remains seemingly in control of the situation even as they’ve got his daughter at gunpoint. The great twist here is that Alex actually does get shot, prompting Ben to declare that the rules of the game have changed.

I’m a bit frustrated by Alex’s death, I think the character had a lot of potential, and I’d have loved to see more of her relationship with Rousseau. This is a kid who’s presumably never left the island, how would she feel to go back to the mainland? But, if she had to die, at least this way she went out making a big impact on the story.

I also wish we got to see a Rousseau flashback before she got killed. For a character who’d been on the show so long, her death was pretty abrupt, but the cast is already so crowded, I guess somebody had to go.

Ben summons the smoke monster and the monster has his best appearance ever, ripping up the soldiers and clearing the way for everyone to escape. This episode is one of the best juxtapositions of on and off island action, since we already see the impact of what happened with Alex. It changes the stakes, and puts Ben’s goals in conflict with Desmond’s reunion with Penny. At this point, Ben is essentially the protagonist of the show, the one who actually does things that push the story along, while everyone else reacts.

That final Widmore/Ben scene hints at a lot of stuff in the island’s history, and I’m eager to see the presumed connection between Widmore and Dharma, as well as some background on how the rules of their conflict got established.

So, I’m loving the show right now. It’s a lot tighter than it was before. There’s still some frustrating stuff, particularly with the Jack/Juliet/Kate axis, but the rest of the show’s pretty strong, and I can’t wait to see what happens when Locke, Ben and Hurley get to Jacob’s cabin, and presumably get the direction that will guide them to the next stage of the storyline. I'm hoping to catch up to the end of season five by the time I go to comicon, so I'll be able to go and see the Lost panel there. At this rate, I think I'll make it.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Lost: 3x17-3x22

This batch of episodes features answers to some of the major ongoing questions surrounding the series, as well as a format changing event that promises a much better show in future seasons. I’ve seen the first four of the fourth season, but I’ll stick primarily to the end of season three, because there’s a lot of stuff to talk about there, and then I’ll probably do another post exploring the start of the fourth season.

Let me start at the end, with the twist that alters the formal structure of the series and opens up a whole new range of interesting possibilities. I’d heard about this twist in the ether when the show was airing, so I knew what to expect going in, but it was still quite a moment when Kate showed up in the final moments and you realize the full extent of what we’ve just watched.

I think the sequence was deliberately designed to be, to some extent, a generic Jack flashback. But, it also had an intensity that’s missing from typical flashbacks, so that even without the flashforward element, there was still a deeply apocalyptic feel to the events, particularly Jack’s insane ranting about his father in the hospital. Seeing a scene of flashbacks like this makes it clear how often the flashbacks were just phoned in, without any real emotional investment.

I think it’s tough in a show with twenty-two episodes to keep up the intensity and emotional engagement that the best of the show offers on a consistent basis. Why couldn’t previous Jack flashbacks be as simple and powerful as this one? The answer is because it’s very, very difficult to do so, and that’s why it’s great to leave behind such a tired storytelling device in favor of something new. So, the flash forward is a very welcome change, and that cliffhanger made me jump right over to the first episode of the fourth season. I imagine it was a very long summer when that first aired.

The finale as a whole was a bit frustrating because the episode basically just stopped and relied on that final twist to cap it all off. It certainly was a strong note to close on, but I feel like I would have liked to see a bit more resolution to the island story itself. The season two finale is still my favorite episode of the series, and even though it left a bunch of cliffhangers, there was a strong feeling of emotional resolution. The creators had learned their lesson from not revealing the interior of the hatch in season two, and gave a strong sense of closure there. The destruction of the hatch was a cathartic moment of almost religious transcendence, and nothing in this episode matched that.

I think part of what frustrated me was that the setup was so engaging and effective, weaving a tapestry of approaching doom for our heroes that reached its height in the season’s penultimate episode, “Greatest Hits.” It all started with the return of Locke to the camp, and his trip with Sawyer to kill his father. I loved the flashbacks to Locke with the others, which gave us further hints of their society, though even at season’s end, it remains unclear what their overall goal on the island is, or why Cindi has joined up so fervently.

But, at least we find out that they presumably captured Anthony Cooper and brought him to the island for John to kill, as a final test of John’s allegiance to the man that he was. Locke claims that he won’t be a murderer, despite shoving Mikhail into the security thing mere episodes before and seemingly killing him without remorse. At this point, Locke and Ben are in a strange relationship, Locke’s loyalty has transcended either side in the conflict, he believes he serves the will of the island. On his messiah kick, he might feel that just killing this man would be wrong, but to let Sawyer do it is a way of letting the island work its will in another way.

The scene with Sawyer gradually realizing this is the man he’s been looking for for so many years is really well done as well. I love his slow build rage, culminating in the vicious death by choking. The island brought Locke a way of doing what needed to be done, and he has used it to bring about his desired end.

This leads to one of my favorite episodes of the series to date, the trip into Ben’s backstory, “The Man Behind the Curtain.” The episode works equally well in the present on the island, as Locke and Ben travel off in search of Jacob, as it does in the past, with our first sustained glimpse into the world of the Dharma Initiative on the island.

The three minute Marvin Candle video from “Orientation” is still my favorite moment of the show to date, and this is the first time since then that we get a real new insight into what the Dharma group was about, and how they functioned on the island. It feels like a mix of cult and commune, with everyone in very defined roles, presumably working for the good of the whole while living a kind of fantasy existence apart from the world as a whole.

Everything we see of the group seems like an ideal world, but there are hints of darkness underneath. While Ben’s at school, there’s some kind of attack, which may or may not be the incident referred to in the Hatch video. It’s also unclear how much of the experiments surrounding the Hatch and Pearl station were going on at this time. Things seem so good, but presumably all those experiments were happening at this time, the shiny surface a mask for some of the more sinister explorations going on underneath.

We’re also told once and for all that Dharma and the Hostiles are two distinct groups, thanks to the appearance of the seemingly ageless Richard Alpert. Alpert’s name is drawn from a philosopher/guru, also named Richard Alpert. I read his book “Be Here Now” a few months ago, and it focused mainly on transcending materialism and the structures of society and expanding one’s mind through Buddhist practices and the use of LSD. That would fit with the idea of the Hostiles as people retreating from traditional society. If Richard is seemingly immortal, is that due to the power of the island? Why does he not age when he’s off island visiting Juliet? That’s unknown, what is significant is that Richard sees in Ben someone who’s in deep communion with the island and has the potential to be important down the line.

Ben winds up working with the Hostiles to kill his father and wipe out seemingly the entire Dharma commune. The show has always dealt with bad dads, but seldom in so explicitly oedipal and Freudian a scenario as we see here. Roger “Work Man” has nothing but disdain for Ben after he “killed” his mother. A Freudian reading would likely be that Roger’s hatred for Ben is the same subconscious hatred that all men feel towards their kids in competing for the love of their mother. That’s the reverse Oedipal, on the same level, Ben is drawn to his mother, and winds up killing his father, seemingly a way of proving his love for his mother. I’m sure on some level his affection for his mother is harmless, but the way it’s presented, there’s an element of transgressive danger, which gives it that oedipal feel.

The scene of Ben converging on the compound to find all the dead bodies is one of the most powerful images the show has come up with to date, and was nicely expanded on in the present when Ben throws Locke into the Dharma mass grave. There’s definitely a significance to Locke winding up in that grave, and it all seems to tie in to Ben’s relationship to his new father figure, the mysterious Jacob.

Jacob has been mentioned before, but here we get the background on him, he’s the mysterious force or person guiding Ben’s actions on the island. But, who exactly he is and why he does the things he does remains shrouded in mystery. With Locke challenging Ben for authority among the Others, and for connection to the island, via his healing, Ben decides to bring Locke to Jacob, probably hoping that Locke will not see what he sees, vindicating Ben’s leadership.

The clear allegory here is Jacob as God. To believe in Jacob without evidence of his existence is faith. By controlling access to Jacob, Ben puts himself in the priestly role of interpreting the word of God for the people, and thus preserves his importance to the camp. Without him, they would be directionless, receiving no guidance from Jacob. The question arises what did these people do before Ben came along? Was there a previous prophet who saw Jacob, was there a similar Ben/Locke rivalry in the past?

Locke goes with Ben, and winds up at the creepy cabin in the woods. I love this setting, both in its initial appearance, and later in the season four premiere when Hurley has an even trippier visit there. I latch on to certain concepts with this show, the Dharma stuff is a big one, but Jacob’s cabin is another that just grips my mind for whatever reason. On one level, you could view it as a sort of cheesy poltergeist style scene, but I think the whole thing worked wonderfully.

Locke seems to have no faith, and thinks he’s exposed the fraud perpetuating the myth of the Wizard of Oz, only to find out that Jacob is apparently quite real, and tells Locke to “help me.” Locke sees no one in the chair, except for a brief moment when he catches someone’s face. It would seem to Jacob appears to people based either on their faith in him, or their connection to the island.

The significance of “help me” is unclear as well. Is it that Jacob is trapped by Ben somehow, or did he just tell Locke that so when Ben asked him later on what Jacob said to him, Locke would say “help me,” in the context of asking for help for his gunshot. Either way I’m intrigued, I thought the hints of Jacob in the first part of the season seemed kind of pointless, but I really like him now, or at least the idea of him, and am intrigued to see more. The idea of Jacob in general feels very Stephen King, and Dark Tower in particular. And, I think the show is at its best when it has the genre bending quasi-pulp, quasi-religious feel of those books.

One of, if not my biggest, issue with the build up to the finale was the handling of Jack in the last few episodes. I like the idea that Sayid and Desmond feel they can’t trust him with the discovery of Naomi, creating a kind of low scale schism in the camp that makes a lot of sense. Even if they can trust Jack still, I think their faith in Juliet should be shaky at best. But, then the show goes and turns that whole storyline into an excuse to mess around with the Jack/Juliet/Kate/Sawyer quardrangle. And, the way things play out, we wind up with Jack simultaneously angry at them for not telling him about Naomi and telling them that he had a secret plan just he and Juliet knew about.

I’m still not sure how the show feels about Jack at this point. Characters will call him out on his behavior from time to time, but he stills seems to be positioned as the hero, and I think that’s a really tired, boring approach. If you suspect Jack of colluding with the Others, would him saying he has a secret plan with Juliet dispel those suspicions? Wouldn’t it only enhance them?

Regardless, the return of Karl, and their frantic prep with the dynamite works really well, as we get some final emotional moments before splitting everyone apart. Charlie, who’d been raked through a series of awful storylines in season two, has made it back to being a pretty likable character by the end of season three. He became part of a likable B team of characters with Jin, Desmond and Hurley, and the ongoing specter of his imminent death moved closer and closer as the season progressed. That funereal element was enhanced by a strong series of flashbacks, which tripped through the best moments in his life. I’ll admit I dreaded the onset of more Charlie flashbacks, but this batch worked great.

In general, the buildup to the finale was fantastic. Pieces were being moved around, but there was a heavy sense of emotion, and Charlie and Claire’s parting in particular was really sad and emotional. In a lot of cases, it’s the buildup to the action that really matters, that’s where the emotion is. The action itself functions as a release for the audience, real tension is in knowing something awful is coming and moving inexorably towards it.

And, Charlie’s boat trip is a great example of that, as he and Desmond sail out to the underwater hatch, each knowing what has to happen. I think Charlie hitting Desmond with the oar was a bit over the top, but ultimately necessary for the story. Though, Desmond doesn’t seem to have handed over the list, I guess it got too wet in his swim, or perhaps we’ve just moved on.

I loved the underwater hatch, which felt like something right out of an old Bond movie. The arrival of one eyed unstoppable villain Mikhail only enhanced that. In general, I think the underwater hatch stuff was the best payoff of the finale, with real tension and emotional closure with Charlie’s death. The two major issues I had were the continual rebirth of Mikhail. The grenade was one jump too many, why not have it be one of the women out there? The other issue was the fact that it wasn’t quite clear why Charlie couldn’t escape. I guess he felt he had to die to keep the timeline and get Claire off the island, but surely they could have had some switch that required him to stay in there, and build the scenario so his death was more necessary than it seemed.

Elsewhere in the finale, the shootout at the camp was great, a really exciting and well executed action sequence. Because TV shows are working with such a smaller budget, I feel like the action sequences are much more thought out and well integrated into the plot than in most blockbuster movies. I thought this sequence was really tight and fun to watch in the way that the bloated CGI fests of something like Wolverine or Transformers aren’t. Of course, a big part of that is our emotional connection to the characters, but as I said before, it’s that buildup that makes the scene work, the intricate groundwork laid down that makes the scene play well.

But, in the case of this episode, the buildup was the high point since we got very little resolution for what was going on in the island. It remains unclear why Ben went out to meet them alone, apart from plotting reasons. What was his strategy, to just tell them not to get rescued? That seems absurd, though clearly his point about people having no reason to leave resonates with the flashbacks it was juxtaposed against.

The show, in its reality based premise, puts every viewer in a kind of what if position, thinking about what we’d be on the island. Would I be the Jack? The Locke? The Nikki and Paolo? Ostensibly, the plane crash is an awful event, and not something we’d want to undergo, but the show also offers a fantasy for the viewer, the fantasy of living a life of adventure and urgency, far away from the more sedate civilized lives we live here. In this world, a boring office guy like Locke can realize his true potential and become a hero. I’d argue that a show like this, and other post apocalyptic narratives, ostensibly offer a nightmare scenario that is actually a dream scenario. The show isn’t saying it would be terrible to crash, it’s saying it would be amazing, that within all of us lies an adventurer, just waiting to be unleashed.

And, the flashforward reinforces the idea that going home only brings back all the old problems that people had been running from. No one had a happy life off the island, so why would they want to leave? It’s something to work towards, a purpose. What purpose do they have once they’re home? Then, all the problems resurface and Jack has to find a new purpose, in this case, to go back to the island.

Locke can forsee this, and is doing everything he can to keep people on the island. He is a zealot, believing he works in the island’s service, the island told him to “help me,” and now he’s going to do that. So, he knifes Naomi, throwing everything into chaos. Jack has seemingly led the people to salvation, now Locke raises the idea that he might be a false prophet.

And then things basically end. The helicopters are imminent, and rescue seems in sight. Clearly someone got rescued, but how and why will wait until next year. I think the episode was pretty strong on the whole, and the buildup was great, but I would have liked a bit more emotional closure in the island’s present day. But, I suppose the first time through, people were just thinking about those mind blowing final moments, and not so concerned about anything else.

The third season’s in the books, and it was easily the show’s most inconsistent, featuring some of the series’ best episodes, but also indulging in a lot of its worst tendencies early on. If I had to rank them on the whole, I’d say season two was probably the strongest, season three second and season one the weakest. I know people still worship season one as some kind of platonic ideal of the show, when the flashbacks were great and everything worked, but I think the ideas at play here are so much more interesting than the simple presence of the Monster or some random Nigerian people. And I think Ben and Juliet are much more compelling than Boone or Shanon or most of the original castaways.

But, I’m someone who generally likes shows better as they go on. I think it’s because I have such an investment in long form narrative, I’m more concerned with character and thematic evolution than in story. Yes, the stories on an episode by episode basis in season one were probably tighter, but I prefer the sprawling, ambition of this season, and I’d hate to see the show “go back to basics.” The flashbacks in many cases never worked right from the beginning. The first Sawyer flashback episode is a total mess, and the first Charlie is equally awful. And I find the question being asked in this series of episodes much more interesting than anything in season one.

I give season two the slight edge because it had a stronger first half, and a better emotional payoff in the finale. But, this season had many fantastic episodes, and most importantly, made it through the dark time to probably the strongest sustained run of episodes to date, with the stuff from “One of Us” on.

And, as I said, I’m already into season four, which is proving to be the best season to date. I don’t think all the show’s flaws are fixed, but it’s consistently much stronger than any season to date. More on that soon.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Batman and Robin #2: "Batman Reborn: Part 2: The Circus of the Strange"

Batman and Robin #2 is a lot like the first issue, in that much of the first half is spent on a fight scene seemingly designed to show off Quitely’s unparalleled storytelling abilities, and outré design sense, and then spends the second half picking apart the emotional impact of recent events in the characters’ lives. I like the way that Grant doesn’t do the story as a strictly continuous series of events, you get the sense that things happen off camera and inform the way the characters behave.

Most of the time when I talk about comics, I talk about the writer primarily, with the artist as kind of an afterthought. That’s because most writers don’t take full advantage of what the medium can do, and most artists aren’t doing anything particularly innovative. But, even working with the best writer in comics, it’s Quitely’s work that leaves the biggest impact here. I love the design sense of his Batman and Robin. The costumes are barely altered from traditional looks, but the gray pants on Damian’s outfit, and the green boots make all the difference in turning one of the lamest costumes in comics into one of the coolest. His Batman also looks great, making the classic grey suit look very fresh.

Quitely’s design sense got the most attention on New X-Men, with its emphasis on “pop sexy” characters, and his work there was great, but he always makes his superhero characters look so much cooler than anyone else. He makes their clothes look like something you’d actually want to walk around in, even more so than any of the movie Batman outfits. I still wish that someone would make a line of clothes based on his X-Men outfits, I’d love to wear those.

His storytelling is fantastic here, and the aesthetic he creates is what lingers after the issue. I think he’s just gotten better and better as time has gone on. Something like Flex Mentallo was beautifully rendered, but he’s gotten more and more formally inventive as time has gone on, and the experimental approach of We3 has given way to the almost three dimensional action feel of All Star Superman and this book. This book feels a bit grittier than the day-glo clean of Superman, fitting in light of its subject matter. The one misstep for me is the obese man in a tutu, who feels like a stock Quitely grotesque. But, everything else is great.

I don’t’ have too much to say about the fight scene, it’s fun, particularly the buildup with the roof meeting, but the real gem on a writing level is Alfred and Dick’s discussion in the cave. Here, we see the Dick/Damian relationship as a kind of adopted child thing. Dick can never live up to Bruce, who Damian now deifies, despite having little respect for him when they first met. So, Damian is rushed into both the role of Batman, and the role of adoptive parent of the world’s worst child.

Damian’s criticism only makes it even clearer to Richard what he sees from people like Gordon, he’s only impersonating Batman, it takes something deeper to be the real Batman. Alfred shortcuts that by suggesting that Richard take on the role of Batman, and channel his spirit as an actor would.

This series so far has seemed generally disconnected from the rest of the Morrison’s Batman run. The renumbering signals a clear break, but the approach is also very different. I loved the death metal heavy ambience of RIP, but I think it was smart do a break like this, to reflect the introduction of the new Batman. But, a scene like this one ties back into a lot of the key stuff from RIP. That storyline had a heavy emphasis on Alfred as an actor, raising the question of whether he was behind what the Black Glove was doing. Telling Dick to “play” Bruce calls back to the questions that were raised there.

In addition, it brings the series much closer to Morrison’s core thematic concepts than the first issue was. Much of Morrison’s experiments with magic and drugs in the 90s were about turning himself into the person he wanted to be, through the medium of the fantasy persona King Mob. He chose to abandon his previous incarnation, the low key guy we saw in Animal Man, and reinvent himself as a comics rock star. Did something just click and change in him one day? No, he chose to become the person he wanted to be, and that’s what Alfred is telling Richard here, to just play Bruce until it becomes real.

It ties in to a lot of stuff from previous Morrison comics, the characters in Division X for one, and Magneto’s performance as Xorn in particular. In that case, Magneto played the role so well, he created a character that people liked more than his actual personality. So, the inspirational message here is don’t worry about your “true self,” just be the person you want to be, and the world will catch up. It’s a magical act of transformation.

Things close out with Damian getting overwhelmed by the creepy doll henchmen from last issue. It’s a great visual moment, colored in neon day-glo shades. It also sets up a nice redemptive moment for Dick in the next issue. While those closing images are great, my favorite drawing in the book is Damian speeding along on the bike, a spectrum of color streaming out behind him.

So, I really liked this issue. I think it deepens the world we saw last time, and raises some deeper character stuff, keeping the arcs from the previous Batman stories in mind. It’s a totally enjoyable book, and I’m eager to see where Morrison goes with it next.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Dusk

Dusk is nothing if not timely. Written by David Doub and drawn by several artists, it’s an independent graphic novel about Vampires, and with the success of Twilight and True Blood, there’s clearly an appetite for this kind of material. But, with the plethora of vampire stories already available, what distinguishes Dusk? After checking out this first volume, of which there’s still more to come, that’s not totally clear. The basic setup has main character Eve working as the assistant to vampire Ash, in exchange for a daily dose of his blood to keep herself strong.

As a girl slaying vampires, Eve can’t help but bring to mind Buffy, and in general the first few stories hit territory I’ve seen a bunch of times before. I like vampire mythology, but I preferred the skewed take Buffy had to the more straight forward approach of something like True Blood or this book. There are some attempts at humor, but generally it plays as pretty dark and classical, with Ash in the position of noble, old morally ambiguous vampire and Eve as the girl drawn to him.

The book is structured as four chapters, each a kind of standalone story. The first sets up the world, and later ones delve into Eve’s back story and feature an excursion to a snowy mountain to hunt a vampire. The most compelling of the stories is the final one, which centers on a high school outcast caught up in Eve’s world.

The book has three artists, and the final one, Franc Czuba, is easily the best. The first couple of chapters are plagued by murky art that conveys the action, but doesn’t give us a real sense of character emotion. The third chapter has some strong moments, recalling Chris Bachalo, but isn’t consistent. The characters in the final chapter are more expressive, being able to see their faces instead of shadows makes it easier to empathize.

Unlike the other stories, Eve is only a peripheral character. The story centers on Teddy, a gothy high schoolers who’s hated by the “normal” kids and decides to use magic to get back at them. It sketches out a world efficiently and does a good job of humanizing some potentially stereotypical characters. By expanding the world of the series, the story gives an idea of how things could develop in a subsequent volume.

I think there are some major issues with the book, but there’s also some good stuff. Paired with the right artist, writer David Doub could help the series grow. The audience for this book is definitely out there, and hopefully he can get a boost from people wondering, "Where do I go after Twilight?"

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Lost: 3x13-3x16

Each of these four episodes was a success on its own terms, and in general, the show is building some nice momentum. The story is moving forward again after a protracted period of stasis. One of the most intangible elements of any long form series is the viewer’s need to see the next episode. That’s ultimately the goal of any show, to make you want to, need to see the next episode. Be it high brow stuff like The Sopranos and The Wire, or lower brow shows like Buffy and Angel, the shows I love most are all ones that engaged me on that level of absolutely needing to see the next episode, to the point that I’m thinking about the show, theorizing about the show when not watching it.

I think in general that’s one of the things that makes serialized TV, when done right, a more compelling experience than film. It dominates your thoughts not just in the time you actually spend watching it, but when you’re between episodes as well. It’s a long term engagement that enhances the experience of the episodes themselves. In the case of Lost, I spent most of season one, both on the rewatch and the first time through, interested, but never really needing to see the next episode. With season two, the Henry Gale arc was something that had me consistently wondering it would go next, and everything after Michael’s return demanded to be watched. Season three lost that urgency in its first half, but it’s getting there. There’s a lot of threads I’m interested in seeing develop, and all the stories are at a pretty solid place right now.

But, what got them there? Let’s back track to “The Man From Tallahassee,” the payoff to pretty much all the long running arcs from the first part of the season. The story is married to yet another Locke and his dad storyline, but thankfully this one answers the major question from his past, and does a good job of setting up why the island is so important to him. While I generally don’t like the more supernatural side of things, I prefer the mysteries to be science based, I do love both Locke and Ben’s belief in the island as a kind of supernatural life force, taking care of them and giving them what they need.

Ben was riveting in the second season during his incarceration as Henry Gale, but he hasn’t been as effective this season. I think a lot of that is due to the fact that he’s best when he has no power, and has to use his psychological tactics to fight his battles. With Jack, Sawyer and Kate imprisoned, he’s got nothing to do. Confined to a wheelchair with Locke, he’s got to use his wits to survive, and he does so expertly.

I also particularly like Locke’s reasoning that he’s more in tune with the island because Ben’s the one in the wheelchair. Locke this season has seemed vaguely unhinged. He lost his faith last season, and felt that he was wasting his time by pushing the button. His faith was vindicated when the hatch exploded, not only did it show he wasn’t wasting his time, the explosion also sealed the island off from the world, ensuring that they won’t be rescued, which would force John back to the life he hated.

The question arises, why would Locke be so scared of Jack and Juliet leaving the island. He seems to believe that everything on the island happens for a reason, everyone has a part to play, so leaving the island would mean that things wouldn’t happen as the island intended. He is forced to act in the island’s interest to ensure things happen as intended.

And, when he fulfills the island’s will, he gets what he wants. He can walk, he can live the dream of adventure he sought when he signed up for the walkabout experience, and now out of the island’s “magic box” comes the final specter of his old life, his father, imprisoned and powerless before a dominant Locke.

When Ben talks about the “magic box,” I see it as the island’s universal will giving people what they want. He needed a spinal surgeon, one came to him. To trust in the island, to subsume yourself to its natural direction is to get everything you ever wanted. As the flashbacks have so relentlessly clear, everyone has myriad traumas in their past, and time on the island could be a way to come to terms with those traumas. That would explain why so much time has been spent on peoples’ pasts, rather than developing them in the present, but I’d argue that’s more of a coincidence than the writers’ design.

A few episodes later, we find out that Locke is going off with the Others to wherever they’re going. I loved this scene, and it’s got me really excited to see what’s happened to him. Ben told him that the reason he was coming to the camp was to bring John back, because he’s one of the good ones. John has bought into this, and has went over to the other side. Was the same true of the people the others took from the tail side of the plane? Are all the people on the beach side of things not good enough to be part of the Others community? There’s definitely a cult Jonestown kind of feel to things, and I think that’s a really interesting dynamic. Locke believes he has found his place, that he’s chosen, and that’s why he’s leaving the others behind.

Elsewhere, “Expose” is a fun episode that pokes fun at the show, and also does some nice character development with its time jumping story about Nikki and Paolo. This reminded me a lot of a season six era X-Files episode, in its self aware in jokes, and meta comment on the show itself. I thought the opening with Billy Dee Williams was great, and in general I enjoyed the alternate island history, but I think more could have bee done with that. Not that much was done to tweak the existing scenes, there was definitely room for more radical reinterpretations.

One thing I did really enjoy was how Nikki and Paolo find all this stuff in the jungle, and see Ben and Juliet for instance, but don’t tell anyone. On the one hand, it’s hard to believe they wouldn’t tell anyone about this stuff, but I seriously doubt Jack and co. update the bulk of the castaways on what they’re doing. We see Jack as the leader, but maybe Nikki and Paolo don’t consider themselves part of that civilization. I think they made a mistake on the show by having 40 people among the castaways, instead of just the fifteen or so major characters. I suppose they wanted to have a pool of characters to draw on should they want to kill someone or introduce people. The problem is, we have no sense of who these people are at all, or how they relate to things. I don’t think they should have all been developed or focused on, certainly the show can barely service the characters it has.

But, The Wire can easily manage a world with 50 or 60 major people. Why not have more consistent faces in there, people who we may not know as anything more than “that guy,” but still know, and give them stuff to do every once in a while. As they chose to run the show, it would make a lot more sense to only have 20 castaways than to have thirty totally passive people we don’t engage with not doing much of anything on the island.

That’s why I think characters like Nikki and Paolo were a fun addition to the show, since they brought these other characters’ uselessness to the fore. They’re only concerned with themselves, and maybe all the other people there are too. I think the reason they were so hated is because they sucked up screen time at a point in the show when it was stuck in a rut, and they got blamed for that. I’d have liked to see them stick around as background personalities, in the vein of a Bernard and Rose. I also think they were nice comic relief in their absurdity.

But they’re dead now, and their final burial sequence was a really nice Tales from the Crypt or Twilight Zone style farewell. They got what they deserved I guess, and in the process we got another light, but fun episode, with a couple of serious bits. Sneaking the revelation about Sun’s attack into that episode was a smart choice, since the seriousness of what was done to her constrasted well with the generally goofier tone. But, successful though the episode was, I think it could have either been a lot more illuminating, or a lot funnier. As it was, it was too much clip show not enough recontextualizing.

Next up was a fun, though illogical episode centered around Juliet and Kate running around the jungle handcuffed together. You can practically hear the Grindhouse voiceover as they battle each other and get drenched and soaked in mud through the course of the episode. I thought the fight scene with the two of them cuffed was great, and in general it was a really fun scenario. How did Juliet learn to fight like this considering she was a scientist? I guess that’s a question for another flashback, but it worked well here.

What doesn’t work so well on this episode is the totally illogical moment where Juliet uncuffs them all of a sudden and reveals to Kate she’s been running a con. So, the plan was to gain her trust by telling her that she was lying to her about the plan to gain her trust? Seems a bit off to me, particularly when they were almost back to the Other camp, and she could have “found” the key there.

The Smoke Monster is one of the elements of the show that doesn’t really work for me. The use of recognizable real world sound effects, like receipts printing a roller coaster going up chains is distracting, and it doesn’t make too much sense in a reality based context. So, I wasn’t thrilled to see it back here.

Regardless, the next episode is another solid one, as Juliet heads back to the camp, and we find out that she’s running a con on them, or perhaps a double con and is actually double crossing Ben. I guess we’ll find out, I do find the constant cons on the show a bit exhausting. But, the episode worked, and did a better job of integrating and recontextualizing old scenes than the Nikki and Paolo episode.

And perhaps best of all, I’m really excited to see what happens next. There’s a lot of interesting plots running, and Juliet’s presence in the camp will probably incite a lot of lingering tension. Perhaps she’ll also pay off all these coincidental connections in the flashbacks and reveal that Claire is Jack’s sister and other things like that. What will be the point of that? I don’t know, but it’ll probably happen.

The episode also gives us some insight into the world of the Others. The Flame station looks like it was quite a place before Locke blew it up. The connection to the outside world is definitely something he’d want to be rid of, and perhaps Ben knew he’d be going there, and made it easy for him to destroy it.

What is the Others’ master plan remains unknown? But, they become even more like the cylons in Battlestar Galactica here, with the revelation that they’re just trying to have kids. I believe the missing ingredient was love, perhaps that revelation is coming up. But beyond that, what’s the goal? What’s worth fighting and dying for? Maybe we’ll find out more as Locke goes behind the curtain of the Others and gets initiated into their world. I just hope one episode ends with a sad montage of Tom and Jack staring out at the water on their own separate beaches, thinking back about the good times they had together.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Lost: 3x07-3x12

The second phase of Lost’s third season is a big improvement over the trouble’s of the first batch of episodes, but still struggling a bit to regain narrative momentum. Some stuff happens, but I don’t have a sense of the overall direction of things, and that makes the continuing spiral of lies and missed opportunities for answers more frustrating.

“Not in Portland” resolved the initial captured by the Others arc in a satisfying way, and gave us just enough hints of what was going on with Juliet, and how she wound up on the island to keep things interesting. For all the criticism I have for the show, it manages to create some really weird moments and images. Karl getting brainwashed in the rave room can’t quite match the Orientation video from last season, but it’s the best moment of the season to date. It’s both a really successful scene in the moment, and full of intriguing hints about the future, and the real mission of the Others.

In light of the behavior we see from Cindy, and later Jack, it also raises questions about how the Others control the people they have imprisoned. Did Jack undergo a similar treatment, is that why he’s so happy to play football with Tom at the end of “Par Avion”? That would make sense, though I prefer to believe that Jack is just sick of being on this island and decided to embrace the creature comforts that the Others offer. It’s always more interesting to see characters consciously choose to do something transgressive than have them do it as a consequence of brainwashing.

If we accept that Jack has been pushed to the limit, and believes Kate has left him for Sawyer, it would make sense that he’d tell them to never come back, and then cross over to the other side, first for this football game, presumably with the hopes of getting off the island with Juliet in the future. Regardless of how it turns out, the episode closer with Jack and Tom tossing the ball around was one of the best misdirections on the show in a long time.

I suppose part of the point of “Stranger in a Strange Land” was to set up a slightly more unhinged Jack. Though I’d agree that it’s far from a good episode, I think parts of it worked, and it was better than doing another run through the standard Jack flashback milieu. Still, I think at this point we don’t need another Jack flashback at all. What did work was the surf noir feel of the early scenes, and the idea of Jack spiraling into this weird relationship with Bai Ling. What didn’t work was bringing in the ridiculous idea of the tattoos as a “gift,” and the fear that everyone seems to have about what Jack’s tattoos say about him.

That element, coming right after Desmond’s time travel journey in “Flashes Before Your Eyes” raises questions about the nature of mystical elements on the island. Season two seemed to be about coalescing the mythology of the first season under a single umbrella, a psychological experiment gone wrong. There’s some elements that don’t quite fit with that, but that’s fine, the show was figuring out who it was. However, now, the presence of the lady who tells Desmond about the nature of universal destiny, or the gifted tattoo artist who somehow curses Jack seem decidedly mystical, and I’m not really sure how to reconcile it with what we’ve seen before.

I’m guessing the tattoo stuff will never be mentioned again, and that’s probably for the best. But, Desmond’s time travel is something full of story potential, and clearly important to the development of the season. I thought that episode was great, and a nice spin on the flashback conceit of previous seasons. The way I interpreted it, after triggering the hatch’s fail safe, his consciousness was flung back in time to the moments he’d already experienced, and he experienced them again in a kind of fugue state, somewhat in control of his actions, but always destined to do the same thing.

The question that arises is, what is the nature of time in the series? Based on what’s presented, there’s two clear options, one is that Desmond is imagining the scenario he’s going through, as some kind of justification for the hellish imprisonment he’s been in, both the years in the hatch, and his return to the island. He’s told that the universe has a plan and we’re all subject to it. If he’s making this up, it could be an attempt to give meaning to his imprisonment by declaring that he “had” to be there, nothing he did could have averted it, and also that by pushing the button he is saving the world. This is the destiny the universe has chosen for him.

I don’t like the notion that it’s all in his subconscious though. I think there’s an eerie poetry in the idea of him literally getting a chance to redo the past. Perhaps the anomaly created by the destruction of the Hatch fractured time and led him into a newly created parallel universe where he has the chance to do something different. However, there’s a kind of universal governance directing things to ensure that they turn out the way they’re supposed to. So, even though Desmond gets a second chance, things are still going to turn out the same way, they have to, that’s the universe’s plan.

This could lead to the creation of a time loop recalling the end of The Dark Tower, where Desmond will have to relive his life over and over again until he does the one thing that will make things right. In light of the last scene of season two, I could see Desmond going back in time again and telling Penny that he’s going to disappear, but she has to watch for an anomaly, that’s the way to find him, leading to the South Pole team in season two calling her with his location.

I’m inclined to believe the flashback is more than Desmond’s subconscious, rather he’s floating in a kind of out of time state. The stuff in the present day, with him trying to save Charlie reinforces that. However, that raises the question of who the woman who tells him about the nature of destiny is. How would she know that he’s “supposed” to not buy the ring? Is she a higher dimensional being, a la John a Dreams from The Invisibles, or is part of the Dharma experiment about time travel and making sure the universe runs a certain way?

Speaking of Dharma, there’s a lot of teasing about the nature of the Initiative and its relationship to the Others/Hostiles, but nothing too definitive yet. It’s particularly frustrating when Sawyer and Kate have Karl with them, a guy who has no reason to lie, and they don’t ask him such basic questions as how long have you been here, and what’s the ultimate goal of the group?

That said, I did like the little mini arc with Karl and Alex Rousseau. She’s a very Buffy kind of character, and it’s fun to see her running around with the slingshot roughing up the Dharma group. I’m assuming that she’s not actually Ben’s daughter, since Rousseau sees Ben in season two, and gives no indication that she knows him, let alone once had a child with him. Though, she does say he is one of the others to Sayid, so perhaps getting him captured is some kind of elaborate revenge for what happened. That’s pushing it though, even for this show.

Also interesting in this batch of episodes is the Juliet flashback, which seems to support the concept in Desmond’s episode that destiny exists, and the universe will work outs its will no matter what we do. Juliet had to come to the island, and if it took a bus crash to do it, so be it. The question that arises now is whether that destiny is a general universal thing, or whether it’s all manipulated by the Dharma group. Were these people brought together on this island for a reason, or is it mere happenstance?

The sheer amount of coincidence would support a universal agenda, but that could also be the writers link characters together in the past as a way of justifying the increasingly irrelevant flashbacks. Even Juliet’s flashback only had moments of interest, and was wrapped in another domestic drama storyline that felt a bit played out.

I did really enjoy Hurley’s flashback episode, if only because it was a nice tonal shift from what we’d seen recently. And, the on island story about getting the bus running was fun in the short term, but also further hinted at the utopian dreams of the Dharma group. There’s no symbol of 60s dreams like the VW bus, and supposedly, these scientists went insane and attacked people. What led to that? The video that Locke sees in the Flame Station supports the idea that the Others/Hostiles and Dharma are separate people, but it could be a new video created just to mess with him.

Also introduced in this batch of episodes is Jacob, who seems to be the leader of the Others, and has a list that Kate and Sayid aren’t on. Was Ben not lying when he said he came to get Locke and bring him back because he was good? Jacob is also mentioned in the video that Karl sees. I’m sure we’ll see more of him down the line. For now, it seems like Locke is ready to cross over to the other side, more concerned with finding out what’s going on than protecting the people around him.

So, the show’s back on track to some extent. I think there’s still some issues with the constant lying and untruths, making real narrative progression difficult. But, there’s been some stronger character moments, and I think the show is another strong episode away from a real turnaround.

And as a side note, I'm reading the episode recaps at The House Next Door as I go through each episode, and it's pretty funny in retrospect to read so many people talking about Lost needs to learn a lesson from Heroes, a show that burned out incredibly quickly, and was never that good to begin with. I have a lot of issues with Lost along the way, but at least it intrigued me enough to get me to come back and give it another try, nothing's bringing me back to Heroes.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Michael Jackson and Musical Convergence

Obviously, the death of Michael Jackson has been a huge deal culturally speaking, with much of the focus on the idea that we’ll never all be united in adoration of a performer in the way that people unanimously loved him back in the 80s. I was born after the release of Thriller, so I missed Michael’s biggest years, catching him in some early 90s performances, like his Super Bowl performance and I do vaguely remember watching the debut of the “Black or White” video when I was younger. So, I’m probably not the best authority to say whether someone could reach the heights that he had.

But, I do think that the notion of a unified, racially transcendent pop superstar doesn’t necessarily die with Michael. People point to Nirvana’s “Nevermind” replacing Jackson’s “Dangerous” as a sign that the times had left him behind, an era of “authentic” artists replacing the pop spectacle that Jackson represented. But, nearly twenty years later, who has the more enduring artistic legacy, whose sound has been more influential? Sure, there were a legion of Nirvana knockoffs in the 90s, but listen to the music that’s out there today, both mainstream radio popular stuff and the hottest indie bands and you’ll hear a lot more Jackson than Nirvana.

In a lot of ways, I think we’re in a post authenticity age. While I have a lot of issues with hipster culture and values, I think one of the good things it did was pave the way for a broadening of taste, by making it acceptable to like popular songs, at first through the pretense of irony, then through straight up embrace. Songs like Britney Spears’ “Toxic” and Justin Timberlake’s “Rock My Body” were just flat out great pop songs, so good that they forced people to embrace them.

Timberlake is frequently cited as one of the heirs to Jackson’s title as King of Pop, and his career followed a similar trajectory. Starting out in a heavily packaged pop band, he branched out into solo work and took artistic control of his music, creating dance floor hits so solid they basically forced people to enjoy them. Pitchfork, the arbiter of hipster taste, ranked his “My Love” as the number one song of 2006, a choice with no irony behind it.

Artists like Timberlake and Kanye West draw on Jackson’s legacy of music that’s simultaneously personal and danceable, rewriting the notion that only in an acoustic or rock setting can real feeling be expressed. And, I think their songs are so transcendent and popular, they fill that cultural need for music to unite us. I enjoy loving a band no one else knows as much as anyone, but there’s a certain joy in connecting with people over a popular song that everyone knows, and I think that’s why even in a fractured audience MP3 world, we’re still going to have blockbuster songs that everyone knows and loves. You need those songs that a DJ play and everyone will know, and even as radio loses its influence, those songs will still find a way to become known to people.

Over on the rock side of things, the major thing that’s changed in 00s popular “alternative” or indie music is the infusion of dance rhythms and instrumentation into rock music. Sure, there’s still non-dance bands, but the sound of the 00s is definitely the 80s style, synth driven electroclash, like MGMT, Phoenix, etc. That’s a sound draws on the pop aesthetic of Michael Jackson, not the dour heavy atmosphere of bands like Nirvana. To some extent, I think there’s been a re-embrace of fun and style in music. MGMT is a very image driven band, a stark contrast to the “anti-image” approach of 90s bands, like Nirvana or Radiohead. And, songs like MGMT’s “Kids” are breaking out in a huge way, uniting people across genre lines in a way that Jackson’s stuff did in the day.

Personally, I love the embrace of fun and pop structures in contemporary music. I think the 90s was a nadir for music, as pop and rock radically diverted, leading to lame work on both sides. Now, we’ve got pop stars like Kanye West creating really ambitious, challenging albums, and rockers making danceable fun stuff.

Sure, Jackson lost his own footing in mainstream culture, but I think he was one Timbaland or Neptunes produced album away from a return to mainstream prominence. I’d have loved to see him do something along the lines of Jay-Z’s Black Album and bring in a host of huge producers, all with the goal of doing the best possible Michael Jackson song. But, I guess we’ll never get that.

I also think much of the furor surrounding Jackson’s death is due to the totally bizarre life he led. I saw him called the first post-human celebrity, and if you see video of the guy, it’s hard to believe he is of the same species as us. He seems more like an alien playing a person. I don’t think we’ll ever see a celebrity as bizarre as Michael Jackson again, but I do think the potential is out there for someone to drop another Thriller, and the time is more conducive for it now than it’s been since the 80s. Barriers between music are breaking down, in an MP3 age, there’s not that strict allegiance to one subculture or genre. Songs can break out and becomes sensations on their own terms, and the distinctions between what’s popular in the rock world and the rap world are lessening everyday.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Lost: 3x01-3x06

Coming off the amazing season two finale, I was really excited about the direction of Lost. A lot of different plot avenues were opened up, in one episode Desmond became a more fully realized and interesting character than most of the island dwellers, and it seemed like the cliffhangers ensured that the next season would pretty much write itself. But, the first six episodes of the season regress to a lot of what didn’t work about season one, and never quite finding any sort of forward momentum to keep viewer interest.

Season two was perfect, but what I liked most about it was that it started to clarify the stakes and mythological background of the island. In season one, there were a lot of random elements introduced, the polar bears, the heroin plane, the smoke monster, the hatch, the others, but there was no underlying structure. Stuff just happened, and we were promised answers in the future. Everything changed with the Dharma Initiative Orientation video in “Orientation,” which laid out some of the background and stakes of the island. This was a psychological experiment that went awry, and knowing that put the Others and some of the other random elements in context. The question of what connected the Others we knew to the Dharma Initiative lingered, and was interesting to speculate about.

The problem I’ve got with the bulk of season three to date is that it basically abandons the hatch mythology to replace the interesting black science of season two with a more generic evil mastermind who thinks he’s the good guy. I don’t think the show needs to answer all its questions immediately, but in this case, the lack of context for who the Others are makes it impossible to move the narrative forward. The first scene of the season raises myriad interesting questions, but since then it’s just the same beats over and over again. Ben wants to make Jack want to help him, but in that case why has he imprisoned everyone? Without knowing his motivation, a guy who was the most fascinating character in season two has become increasingly boring to watch. Every single scene with him is the same, and the same is true for Juliet.

I should track back a bit and say that I loved the audacity of the season premiere. Trapping all our characters in this weird psychological prison produced some really interesting scenes, and tied into the reality manipulation of the Dharma Initiative in the Hatch. I wanted to learn more about the Hydra Station, and I also really liked the pulp absurdity of the setting. Even the second episode worked pretty well, continuing our tour of pulp archetypes by putting Sawyer and Kate on a chain gang. I think the general concept was interesting, and the first two episodes worked pretty well.

The problems arose after it’s six episodes in, and we’re still hitting the same exact emotional beats as in the first two episodes. The Others lie to people, they mess with their minds, we knew that, so why do we need to see them pretend to install a pacemaker in Sawyer, then say they didn’t actually do it. The story worked fine on its own terms, but just seemed redundant to what came before. I really like the Juliet/Ben dynamic, but I want to see it grow and change. I want to understand why they’re doing what they’re doing, and what the ultimate endgame is. If they really are the good guys, why are they torturing everyone? These questions are obviously key to the nature of these Others, and when they’re an offscreen presence, it’s fine to withhold the answers. But, when they occupy so much screentime, it makes the stories pretty inexplicable when you don’t know the motivation of the characters involved. There’s some pretty clear logic gaps in the Others’ behavior, and the longer we have no idea why they behave so inexplicably, the harder it is to emotionally engage with what’s going on.

Again, this isn’t strictly about ‘answers.’ We get hints of their background, like Ben saying he’s been on this island his whole life, but nothing that explains their actions. So, we wind up with our characters sitting in the same exact space for six episodes, with no idea why they’re there and no idea how to escape. There’s also some egregious logic gaps, like Kate and Sawyer choosing not to escape despite Sawyer’s cage being open. Even if you can’t get off the island, at least you can try to do something instead of sitting there waiting to die. I did enjoy the dirty desperation of Sawyer and Kate finally having sex, and Jack’s startled reaction when he saw them on the monitor, but that doesn’t excuse the logic gap of their refusal to leave. Why not just have them get dumped in the same cell by their captors, or have them together all along, as a way of getting them together, to ensure that Jack has nothing left tying him to the island.

I’m sure there’s some people who say it’s a mistake to see the Others at all, that doing so ruins their mystery and the show. But, at this point, the Others are much more interesting. I can’t see any interesting future storyline for the vast majority of the original characters, but the new people are fascinating and I’d love to see more from them, and find out how they built the strange world they live in now.

One of the strange things about this show as compared to other serial narratives is that typically, the newer a character is, the more interesting they are. That’s largely due to the show’s continued ties to its flashback structure, which at this point is doing more than just eating up screentime, it’s actively denigrating a lot of the characters. I didn’t have that many issues with the flashbacks in late season two, they generally worked on their own terms, or had something to contribute to the narrative. Here though, every single one is a disaster. At this point, the Kate, Locke and Jack stories are almost a joke, hitting the same exact story beats every single time. Sawyer in prison was just a bad short story that again tried to soften the character in a way that didn’t really work.

The biggest offender was the flashback that reveals that Sun did have an affair. That negates one of the best season two moments, Jin’s happiness at finding out that the island cured his infertility. It’s just a messy complication that does nothing for the present story, and retreads the exact story beats as previous flashbacks. And, the flashbacks aren’t well integrated with the present narrative, they’re just ten minutes of story dropped into an otherwise independent narrative.

I think one of the major miscalculations of the season was the decision to not intercut the action with the Others and the action on the beach. Intercutting, as with the tailie and hatch storylines in early season two, creates momentum because it ensures that even if one story drags, you’ve always got something else going on. It also lets you more easily skip in time, jumping past boring events to get to the meat of the story.

But, even if there was more intercutting, nothing’s really happening on the beach side of things. Locke’s “Further Instructions” retreads a lot of season one stuff, and tells us nothing new about Locke, while also skipping over the material I’m actually interested in, namely how did Locke get out of the Hatch that’s now nothing but a hole in the ground. I’m also curious to see how Eko got out, but with his death, I’m assuming we’ll never find out.

The worst episode of the season is definitely Eko’s farewell. It’s the same exact stuff we saw in season two, both in the present and the flashback, with an inexplicable death tacked on at the end. Why have Eko survive at all if he’s just going to die here? Why not have him go out in a blaze of glory as the Hatch explodes rather than bring him back here just to creep over to die. It’s a total debacle.

More interesting is Hurley’s observation about Desmond’s ability to see the future. Desmond’s a really fascinating character, but gets very little to do during the first bunch of episodes. The distribution of screentime is really problematic, Sun and Jin are great during their boat adventure, but we never get any emotional followup on what she did. I’m assuming the producers keep the flashbacks in place to prolong the series at this point, but I’d much rather see interesting arcs developed. Not every aspect of a person’s personality is due to things that happened in their past, being stuck on an island for seventy days is going to change you a lot more than finding out the guy you brought to your marijuana farm is a narc.

When the show works, I accept its more bizarre choices, and lack of relation to actual human behavior, but this season’s frustrating lack of connection to real human nature makes the problems inherent in the first season resurface. Particularly when we barely see the vast majority of the characters, there’s no need to spend time on these boring, redundant flashbacks.

The show’s structure reminds me of The X-Files in the sense that it’s always an all or nothing thing. In The X-Files, there were standalone episodes, where nothing of lasting consequence happened, or there were mythology episodes where not only was the overall alien plot forwarded, but all personal traumas, like family deaths occurred too. Spreading some of the narrative build across the standalone episodes would have given the show a better balance, and allowed more shading on the supporting cast. In the case of Lost, it’s an all or nothing character thing. Sun and Jin, or most of the other supporting cast, only appear in major capacities in their flashback episodes and do nothing otherwise. I like when we get small subplots with other characters next to the main story. It helps build the arcs and takes some of the pressure off the A story. But, the show’s structure this season precludes that spreading of the story and keeps the focus really narrow, on a story that has no room to go anywhere.

This run of episodes introduces characters so hated I knew them by reputation without watching the show, Nikki and Paolo. Maybe it’s just knowing they’re so hated and not expecting much, but I think the characters make a lot of sense and are some welcome comic relief, intentional or not. I’d like to see more of what these background islanders feel about their leaders, most of them probably don’t have the same love/devotion to the island that Locke does, and have got to be thinking about getting rescued. Wouldn’t they be furious about the fact that the boat got captured by the Others? Why not do a storyline where some of these background people mutiny against the island leadership and try to take over. That could fill time more interestingly than another bunch of flashbacks, and give the people on the beach something to do. Or, why not have one of the background people try to make a deal with the Others to get off the island?

In general, the writers seem to have a big problem with people actually doing anything. This season has consisted of our main characters either sitting in prison cells, sitting in a sweat lodge, burying someone, going into a hatch we’ve already been into, and building a lightning rod out of golf clubs. I just don’t get this feeling that there aren’t stories on the island, there’s hundreds of untold stories out there, it’s just the writers are so trapped in their mythology, they lose sight of the human element of being on an island.

In season two, I found it easy to accept that this isn’t a show about people trapped on an island, it’s about this weird Dharma experiment, and science vs. faith and all that. But, with the return to the smoke monster and polar bears and stuff, that science/psychological element is gone, replaced by generic mysticism and poorly executed dream sequences.

Anyway, back to Nikki and Paolo, I enjoy them because the writers seem to be having a bit of fun with the characters. I like that he enjoys this trip to the Hatch because it’s a chance to go to the bathroom, and I like the idea that he and Nikki have debated a lot about Jack’s leadership, and are now deciding to step up to the main crew for whatever reason. I don’t think they’re deep characters, but I think it’s a funny, and necessary, meta comment on the show as a whole. Every one of those random people on the beach has a story, these are just two of them.

But, I’m guessing that the major issue with the characters isn’t anything inherent to them, it’s the fact that they’re taking screentime away from more interesting characters. I’m thankful I’m watching this season on DVD, since a three month break after this episode seems like the kind of thing that could easily have made me drop the show again, watched on a weekly basis, the creeping must have been unbearable. Sure, Nikki and Paolo may drop goofy exposition, but I see it more as a joke on them trying to get caught up on events than a way to appeal to new viewers.

Another major issue with these episodes is the total evisceration of the Kate from the first two seasons. Once a strong independent character, she now spends all her time either crying or at gunpoint. Why can’t she and Sawyer kick ass together, I always thought part of the reason she liked Sawyer was because he let her be an equal, while Jack always tried to protect her. But it’s like once they put that dress on her, she lost all agency and became a damsel in distress, a plot point for the writers to move around.

So, these episodes are very problematic. I love the initial setup, and the audacity of the season premiere. But, it just hasn’t gone anywhere since, and the beach stuff isn’t working at all. Ultimately, I don’t care about answers for their own sake, finding out Ben has been on the island his whole life, or that there’s actually two islands doesn’t do anything for the story. Answers are only interesting for the story points they open up, and at this point, the narrative is stalled. Hopefully things will get rolling again in the next set of episodes. Season two had similar slow patches, but recovered nicely. The pieces are all there, it’s just a matter of letting the characters actually do something.