So Close, Yet So Far Away

Well, here we are, reader. Less than a month away from the premier of Lost and as I expected time has slowed to a crawl. It doesn't help that, starting on Sunday during another of the myriad snow storms Rochester has been plagued with over the past two weeks, the love of my life and I started to re-watch Season Five in an effort to jog our collective memories while getting seriously pumped up for the start of the sixth and final season of the best serialized television show on network television. This is one of those rare, TV geek moments that I've only experienced a few times: knowing that a show I've come to love so much is going to end once the next season is over. I dealt with it when The Sopranos stopped believin', I choked back rage fueled tears when Freaks and Geeks was prematurely canceled, and I cried, sadly and forlornly as my beloved Arrested Development was cut down in it's prime. But, at the same time, I'm legitimately stoked for the final season of Lost, if only because some of those lingering, unanswerable questions are (at the very least) going to be addressed if not outright explained. That, my friend, is the ultimate payoff for a show that, since 2004, has done more to confuse, enrage, annoy and entertain than any other "Big 3" network drama I can think of... ever.

Lost is, and always has been, about the characters and what they do when they are put in a certain situation - either of their own free will, or by some act of four-toed god like intervention - whether it is Sawyer's (Josh Holloway) internal battle over what to do when the man he's been seeking to confront his entire life is, almost literally, plopped down in front of him in the most unlikely place he could have imagined, or whether it's Kate's (Evangeline Lilly) less than thoughtful, but oh so right, decision to run as fast as she can when her past transgressions - on and off the island - start to chase her down. Lost is an incredible look into the human condition wrapped inside a science-fiction-philosophy that hasn't been so thoroughly explored since the earliest days of Star Trek, and even the mighty James Tiberius Kirk would be overwhelmed by all riddles the island forces its inhabitants to solve (Spock, on the other hand, would be just fine).

"Did that bird just say 'Hurley?' F_ck it, beam me up, Scotty."

As for myself, I've tried - way too often - to sift through the clues, the folklore and the mythology surrounding Lost and the only conclusion I've been able to come to is this: Dude. Yes, I go full Hurley (Jorge Garcia) whenever I try to sit down and figure out just exactly what the hell is happening, how it happened, where it started, who started it and how it's going to end, because there is (literally) too much happening for me to comprehend all at once, and I fully expect there to be numerous master level courses that pop up around universities the world over that delve into Lost with all the reckless abandon academia has to offer as the full cultural impact of the show will be revealed, sadly, when it's all said and done. Lost is an important and necessary television show in this day and age when far too many people have far too many answers readily available at the push of a button. Where Mad Men is a constant, sullen reminder of the way things "used to be," Lost is that rare show that has the audacity to show it's viewers the way things "aught to be." It's not Walden 2 by any means, and it doesn't dare to imagine itself as a utopia of any sort, but because it dives into the deep end of human relationships and couples it with action, mystery and the all encompassing "science versus faith" debate that rages on in the subtext of every pivotal scene of the show, and does so without abject bias one way or the other, Lost has managed to give us all the gift of contemplation.

We, the viewer, are forced to pay attention and we are forced to (shudder) think for ourselves. That doesn't happen very often anymore. With shows like The Hills and the train wreck that is Jersey Shore becoming ever more popular with not just the youth of current culture, but the adults as well, Lost has veered violently in the other direction. Sure, it has everything any fan of television would find interesting (action, adventure, drama, romance, a smoke monster and Hurley), but that's just on the ground level; which isn't to say you can't get fully engrossed in Lost on a very simple plane, but it's so much better, and so much more entertaining when you actually pay attention, because you pick things up - often times subliminally - and you start to legitimately understand the direction of the show, what it's trying to get across to the audience and where it's headed.

Why does Benjamin Linus (Michael Emerson) do the things he does? Is he just a man living in a fog of ambiguous morality that only acts to serve himself and his desires? Or, is Ben more than that? Is he truly evil, or is he one the good guys? The answer is just as much of a riddle as the character himself, and I don't see how it's possible to enjoy the show the way it's meant to be enjoyed if you don't constantly ask yourself these questions while pondering the impossible to come by solution. The same can be said of any of Lost's main characters, and even it's relatively minor characters are mired by questionable actions and shady intent. The "hero" of the show, Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox) has had his ups and downs and, at times, acted like a petulant little child when he hasn't gotten his way, taken to the bottle and prescription narcotics as a means of coping with his insecurities and sometimes gone off in the wrong direction without ever taking the time to think about it. That's his challenge as a character. When the "hero" is supposed to be a Hero, will he live up to that moniker or will he slink away into some Benzedrine dream, never to be seen or heard from again? Of course, as of the end of season 5, we all know where Jack's loyalties lie and it's not really surprising considering his development. Jack will always be Jack, for better or worse he thinks of himself as the savior of the people on the island he feels duty bound to protect. It's a pro and a con, a positive and a negative, and it is exactly what makes Lost as engrossing an experience as it is. We, the audience, never really know what's happening and we are constantly guessing who is "good" and who is "bad" when we should really be thinking "what's next?"

I remember, a long time ago, reading that the joy of a mystery isn't in the solving but, rather, in the surprise. I know there can be endless amounts of fun trying to figure things out when it comes to Lost, because that's the way the show is designed. It's meant to confuse, annoy and entertain all at the same time, and it does so with such conviction and style that sometimes the impact takes days or weeks to settle in; which is why it must be viewed so often and paid attention to so carefully. As much as I wish I had a Holmesian mind that could detect, deduce and define even the most pithy piece of evidence, I'm glad that I don't, because if I could figure out how Lost was going to end without the benefit of taking the ride, the show in and of itself would cease to be as important as it is and all the wonderful thrills and the hammer to the back of the head like jolts that accompany all of the "big reveals" that have happened in the past and the ones coming on the horizon would have little to no effect, and Lost would be just another TV show. Thankfully, that's not the case. Thankfully I've resigned myself to "just let it go, man" when it comes to figuring out the labyrinthine twists and turns of the plot, and the true nature of the individual characters. I don't want to ruin the last season, not even by mistake, and if a co-worker or friend decides to let slip a spoiler, I will pummel them with all my nerd-rage fueled might!

Just like on the show, my perception of time has become relative to my position on the grid. With Winter rearing it's ugly head in the general direction of my well being, I'm forced to stay indoors and while away the hours wondering "what's next" and "where do we go from here?" As much as I'm enjoying re-watching season 5 of Lost, I'm getting impatient and I'm getting hungry to move forward towards the endgame that is going to (I expect) play out wonderfully over the next few months, and this has made my perception of time slow to a crawl. The anticipation, the quixotic nature of my own mental capacity and my desire to be shocked and awed is starting to take it's toll. I know it's just a TV show, and I'm aware that my pining is something bordering on "too geeky to function properly in society," but I don't really care. 2010 is going to be about embracing your inner nerd, it's going to be about loving the things you love openly and often, and Lost is one of those things. As much as it's going to hurt to see it go, I can't wait to find out what's going to happen.

*A brief note from the author to the reader*
Please, please, please do not spoil anything related to Lost for me as the final season unravels. I won't be reading ahead on any websites that I normally check for updates, and I won't be diving into lostpedia.org like I have in the past to play catch-up when something escapes my understanding. I will not respond with grace, dignity or aplomb and will most like spaz out pretty badly. Take, for example, this line from 30 Rock's Jenna Maroney (Jane Krakowski) which was supposed to be a joke, "I met JJ Abrams once, and I don't know what this means, but he said that the island was just Hurley's dream." I know that was supposed to be funny, but my reaction was not. I was pissed. My jaw dropped and I gasped aloud as I thought of ways to punish Jenna for letting slip something so spoiltastic as that. So, please be kind and don't ruin the surprise. Just, like, you know, let it go, man.