Mythology: Lost Finale
By Martin Felipe
May 26, 2010
BoxOfficeProphets.com
It’s been a couple of days now since the big send-off and, after two viewings, I’m still trying to formulate my opinions on both the finale and the show as a whole. I’ll preface everything by stating that, yes, I loved the finale. Big surprise, huh? Thing is, I’ve loved most of the big mega-finales. I liked the infamous Sopranos cut to black. I was moved by M*A*S*H’s maudlin goodbyes. I appreciated Battlestar Galactica’s spiritual wrap-up. I even thought The X-Files finale to be appropriate, if uninspired. (Even I didn’t care much for Seinfeld’s last episode, however.)
The general consensus I’ve seen in the wake of Lost’s goodbye has been, for the most part, pretty positive. To be honest, this surprises me. With a few exceptions - The Shield and Six Feet Under spring to mind - most finales seem to get a pretty negative reaction from fans. I just figured that a show as divisive as Lost would prove just as divisive at the end as it has been throughout.
Yes, there are detractors. There always will be. But somehow, Lindelof and Cuse provide such a cathartic conclusion to pretty much every character’s arc, and that last shot is such sublime visual poetry, that the flaws seem almost irrelevant. They’re not irrelevant, but Lindelof and Cuse trick us into thinking that they are, appropriate for a show that’s always been about narrative sleight of hand.
I don’t want to belabor the point. It seems disingenuous to do so. Still, the one flaw that I don’t think they can ever excuse is the handful of unresolved mysteries. I understand their argument that the show has always been more about the characters than the mythology. I even accept that argument to a degree. I also don’t want to come across as one of the nitpickers, decrying the show as an all-time failure just because we never find out who’s doing the Dharma food drops, but character oriented though it may be, it is still a mythology show, and the mythology feels not quite complete. We’re almost there, but a piece or two seems to be missing from the puzzle.
Cuse and Lindelof claim that many of the so-called unanswered questions are possible to deduce from narrative hints. For example, the fertility issues that The Others face seem to be the result of The Incident, even if Cuselof don’t provide a definitive statement of such within the body of the narrative. They claim that they don’t want to over-explain things, citing Star Wars’ much derided midichlorians as an example of too much explanation ruining the magic.
For that matter, I’ve seen many an irate fan, finding mysteries where none exist. Or, if they do, the solution really doesn’t matter. One of the biggest examples is Jacob and his brother’s mother. Who is she? How does she come to be the island’s protector? The fact is, it just doesn’t matter. To go back to Star Wars, it’s like explaining who turned Palpatine to the Dark Side, or the origins of the Sith. At some point, you need to narrow the focus to the story at hand.
And this is what Lindelof and Cuse try to do by claiming the story to be about the characters, not the mysteries. While I believe that they’re only partially right, I can’t argue with the success of that finale. I can’t think of an episode of television that moved me so much. Lost has always seemed to be a head trip, but, in the final lap, it reveals itself to be a heart trip all along, one final bit of slight of hand for the road.
Moment after moment of catharsis pops up throughout the show’s final two and a half hours. Just when I think I can’t get any more choked up, Charlie and Claire reunite, Sawyer and Juliet reunite, Richard embraces his new mortality, and so on, the lump in my throat getting bigger all the time. All of this leads up to the biggest sleight of hand in the show’s history, to me at least.
I mention above that even I have a few niggling complaints. Well, the biggest is the lead character. I’ve never liked Jack. At first, I found him to be an irritating superhero wannabe, then, as we learn the cracks in his façade, I found him to be an insufferable obstacle to the forward momentum of the narrative. He’s always the one to say “no.” As the mystical and mysterious nature of the island reveals itself, other characters, Locke most of all, seem willing to run with it. Not Jack. He always puts the breaks on. Whenever there seems to be the potential to learn some more of the island’s secrets, he scoffs them off. As the show’s body count increases over the six seasons, I found myself hoping that he’d join the ever growing ranks of the dead.
Then, as the final season progresses, Jack starts to embrace his faith. And I started to root for the big jerk. He lets go and stops trying to control everything. As a result, I started to embrace him as a character. Where once I hated him, there were even a few times in season six I went so far as to describe him as awesome.
And here’s where Lost’s finale got me - where I knew I wasn’t just watching a great episode of television, but a sublime moment for the ages, where I realized that this finale, unanswered questions and all, elevate the already great show into a serialized masterpiece. When Jack closes his eye for the last time, all of the emotional build up - and it’s already considerably intense - reaches a height I rarely feel any more from the visual arts. It’s a beautiful, devastating and perfect moment. And it’s the death of a character that I had wanted dead for so many years.
That’s the brilliance of what Lindelof and Cuse accomplish. It’s a textbook example of how to create a brilliant character arc. They drive me to hate their hero, then, as the show nears its climax, they turn it all the way around so that his final moments are the most profound moments of the entire series, earning their claim that Lost is indeed a show more about the characters than the mythology.
Of course, now it’s time for me to start the great re-watch. I want to see how it all holds together knowing what I now know. My guess is that, for the most part, it will. A few cracks will show - what’s the deal with Walt, for example - but overall, I’ll bet it’ll make for a complete, unified piece. In the end, whenever a Walt type dilemma presents itself, I’ll just remember Jack’s eye closing and I’ll know that the questions are all just red herrings on Lost. To borrow one of their own inspirations, the show is more about the Tin Man’s heart than the Scarecrow’s brain. I imagine that the very first image of Jack’s eye opening will now have a new emotional resonance to me. Ok, I’ve gotten myself all worked up. I’m off to get started. The island isn’t finished with me yet.