I just finished watching Lost for the first time, and I have thoughts

After almost 20 years since its premiere, I reflect on my experience after binge-watching the entire show over the past few months

Mar 05, 2023

Lost' at 15: How ABC's hit changed TV, and drama

For everything you can say—and has been extensively said—about Lost, one cannot refute that the show knew how to do BIG moments. The layered mysteries of the Island often let the writers build to payoffs the audience had been craving for entire seasons. Not Penny’s Boat, Locke’s wheelchair recovery, Juliet detonating the bomb, We Have To Go Baaack. Even when characters who didn’t mean much to the audience perished, it still felt BIG because of the ripple effects they had on other characters. As great as all of those moments are, my favorite scene in all 6 seasons was a simple conversation. A conversation between Jack and Sawyer, two characters whose butting personalities often led to heated confrontations between the two. But here, amidst the chirping critters of the jungle, Sawyer tells Jack about the time he ran into his alcoholic father in Sydney. After he had just fought with Jack and was about to drink himself to death, Christian had confessed his guilt over their fight to Sawyer and had told him how much he truly loves Jack, something his distanced parenting rarely led him to say himself. As Jack struggles to fight back tears and Sawyer gains an early moment of compassion, the emotion swells to a high as Jack hears the words he has always wanted to hear from his father.

At this point, it’s an obvious remark to say that Lost was always about the people instead of the mysteries, one that has almost been overused as an excuse to dismiss the criticisms of those who dismissed the ending as unsatisfying. As much as the characters were always the central focus, I would also argue that it’s unfair to reduce the myriad of question marks (sometimes literally) to merely background noise in favor of character arcs. If that were so, the creators could have just as easily crashed the plane on an island that wasn’t immediately introduced with a rumbling monster and a polar bear. But, it’s important to note that the characters always anchored the show and kept the audience invested in the series. As someone who binged the series in the span of a few months, I didn’t experience the endless theorizing and blogging that came over the six years on the air. Apart from reading old recaps and theories from the time, the questions and answers were delivered in fairly quick succession. What truly sold me on the show were the survivors left to wander around in the jungle, often screaming at each other in the pouring rain.

Take Jack Shepard. In some ways, Jack can easily be seen as one of the more boring characters in the show. Locke is full of complexity that continued to be unfurled throughout his tenure; Sawyer is the wisecracking pretty boy with an effective redemption; Desmond is driven by a love that will warm the iciest of hearts; Hurley is the only one who doesn’t take everything so seriously. On the surface, Jack starts altruistic and ends just as eager to save everyone. But Jack is someone holistically challenged by the Island, whose broken relationship with his father has given him the need to repair the other connections in his life. His strictly scientific approach to the Island was dismantled, as the escape from the Island that he fought for throughout three seasons was proven wrong. He realizes just how wrong he is, how his purpose was something grander than facts could prove. This wouldn’t be anywhere as effective without Matthew Fox’s dedicated performance. He could certainly be charismatic as a leader, but his strength came from the moments where he collapsed under that pressure, his tired face and tearful eyes becoming even more powerful as we see the toll that the Island has taken on him.

Sure, the Hatch’s true purpose was a fascinating find that hinted at the Dharma Initiative’s existence. But its discovery would be nowhere near as interesting without the moral quandary at the center, the opposing discussion between Jack and Locke about whether or not to push the button based on their rivaling levels of faith. Jack needs a scientific reason about the world-saving Hatch, trying like hell to convince himself that he’s been stuck on this Island purely by accident; John needs to tell himself that this Island has a higher purpose, hoping he has regained the ability to walk and left his pathetic life to fulfill the life he had always dreamed of for himself. The writers managed to weave these themes into their mysteries, a move that elevated them above weird imagery. At least, it did at the start. The battle between Jacob and the Man In Black that attempted to culminate the good vs. evil philosophy was utterly nonsensical, a haphazard attempt to act like their roles were planned out from the beginning. Through aimless flashbacks and cluttered explanations for all of the unexplained mysteries, it started to drift farther away from the show’s simpler appeal.

Lost had to end because of "two problems" according to showrunner

That appeal was seeing a band of broken people start to form trust and loyalty within each other. Before he became an annoyingly devout believer in the Island (every time he talked about how the Island had other plans, it made me slightly more of a man of science), John Locke was my favorite character. His wise, guiding mentality gave him a refreshing role among the ensemble, and initially had the best flashbacks that showed you how much his life has been changed for the better on the Island. Sawyer and Kate had arguably some of the biggest transformations in the show, and though the former seems to be far more beloved by the other, I found both of them relentlessly engaging characters that each occasionally had their missteps. Sayid was a badass right-hand man that may have been the most consistent character had they not turned him into a zombie in the final season. Hurley was my Constant, a reliably entertaining presence that you always want around, even if you don’t necessarily want his flashbacks. It took me a bit longer than most to warm up to him, but Desmond’s character was a well-realized one that pushed the writers to their most ambitious places. Charlie indulged in whining too often to be one of my favorites, but he came into his own in his last few episodes. Ben Linus was the standout villain who kept the characters on their toes when they weren’t beating the snot out of him. Juliet was the show’s best female character without having to be put front and center. Sun and Jin had the most heartwarming moments and the best deaths of the show. Mr. Eko, Daniel, and Miles were all great additions who didn’t get as much to do as they deserved.

Looking back, the series often felt like it was in an odd state. Contained within themselves, the seasons had consistent stories that nearly always led to a rousing payoff. However, the series was always a morphing beast, using a reliably watchable ensemble to transition through seasons that flew through genres that eventually became unrecognizable to the initial plot. The first season seems to be the most universally beloved, a shock to the system of network TV by introducing such an unconventional premise. At a time when serialized shows like 24 were a rarity on broadcast channels, Lost burst out of the gate with an extremely expensive pilot, premium talent behind the scenes, and an uncommonly cinematic premise. Writers Damon Lindelof, Carlton Cuse, and J.J. Abrams had a clear idea of what the show could be from the start, with a high-octane premiere that instantaneously enthralls the audience in the situation. Throughout the entire season, each episode did an excellent job of centering each episode around a certain character, mirroring their journey on the island with flashbacks that always managed to have some twist at the end that told us more about who they are. It was a bold experiment for TV, and almost everyone agreed that it paid off.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t very sustainable. One of the most glaring problems with seasons 2 and 3 are that the flashbacks started to get old after a while. Their dedication to this gimmick, specifically in season 3, led to some notoriously ill-advised subplots like Locke the weed farmer and Jack’s tattoos. Luckily, those two seasons still had the benefit of maintaining the essence of what made Lost special. We got more intriguing mysteries and plenty of new supporting characters like Juliet, Ben, Mr. Eko, and Desmond. I’ll be the most adamant defender of the “bear cage” era you’ll ever find, as the idea to strip the primary leaders down to hostages was a refreshing change of pace. This was the Others at their most intimidating, and led to a stellar payoff in Ben’s surgery (“Kate, dammit, run!” ranks up there with one of Lost’s best cliffhangers). A consistent strength in every season was their ability to culminate every season in an outstanding finale, setting clear, urgent goals in the penultimate episode that ratchets up the intensity for a finale that was sure to change everything (at least 2 of these series-altering moments were contained in the epic season 3 finale “Through the Looking Glass”).

However, season 3’s story also contains what I consider to be the show’s biggest plot holes. I guess this can be the Unanswered Questions and Unexplained BS section of this write-up. Looking back on it, the motivation of the Others were muddled from the very beginning. Days before the plane crashed, Ben discovered that he had cancer and needed spinal surgery, only to get a miracle when Jack crashed from the sky. However, instead of simply offering the survivors resources and shelter to gain their trust, the Others take a different approach. They abduct Claire and Walt, blow up the survivors’ raft, establish immediate territorial limits, kidnap Jack, Sawyer, and Kate, and imprison the latter two in bear cages in an attempt to grow their love. “I wanted you to want to save me” is a line uttered by Ben after Jack discovers his condition. So why couldn’t they have allied with the survivors from the beginning instead of being hostile? I get that they needed to test on Claire’s pregnancy, and wanted Walt for who knows what. But, most of these could have been achieved when explained to the survivors, and the explanation of Ben having “trust issues” and only gaining trust through “manipulation” isn’t good enough for a seasons-long conflict. And my questions don’t end there…

Eight years after it finished, why is Lost being reappraised? | Lost | The Guardian

How did the Others know quite as much as they did? I know they have sources outside of the Island (Jacob seemed to keep close tabs on them, but Ben admitted to never speaking to him) and has stations to watch the survivors, but there’s no possible explanation for some details. How would they possibly know that Sawyer killed a man that they thought was the man who conned his parents before getting on the plane? Specific details about Jack’s divorce? Why DID the Others want Walt? I assume it was for the same kaleidoscopic brainwashing that Carl was watching, but why did they need to kidnap all of the children? When Shannon saw Walt dripping wet in season 2, what was that about? It couldn’t be the smoke monster, since Sayid saw him too. Why the hell is Michael subjected to eternal damnation on the Island for killing two people, but Ben is allowed into Heaven (especially since Michael was acting on orders that Ben gave him)? Why didn’t the bomb at the end of season 5 go off? Why did Juliet say “it worked”? Is the electromagnetic explosion the reason pregnant women can’t give birth? What was the pool at the center of the Island? What did the cork do? How the hell did it turn Jacob’s brother into the smoke monster? And this isn’t a question, but man, Charles Widmore sure wasn’t as consequential as all of the foreboding monologues made him seem.

Now, where were we? For many, season 4 was a clear shift in the show’s direction, focusing less on survival and more on the mythology of the Island. After season 3’s final shocker, the audience started to realize that the show’s endgame may not be leaving the Island physically, but fulfilling their purpose to escape it emotionally. Even though this season marked the show’s paradigm shift, a few pivotal changes to the season’s structure marked it as one of the best outings. Shortening the length to 14 episodes trimmed any possible fat from the episodes, and the switch from flashbacks to flashforwards finally added some intrigue back into the off-Island portions. The creators had a commendable ability to tell us exactly what happens in the future, yet still keep an aura of suspense about how the characters get to these points in time and who else has survived. By introducing some standout characters and having a clear point of urgency translate across some series-best episodes (“The Constant”, “The Shape of Things to Come” and “There’s No Place Like Home”). After watching the breathless place the show was left in at the end of this season, I thought “Y’know, I think I’m gonna like this new Lost”.

Then the next two seasons happened. Season 6 is far worse than 5, which at least had a cohesive story that, for all of its acceptance of overtly sci-fi elements that was not present at the show’s beginning, managed to maintain the intrigue and entertainment of the early days. The season had a lingering sense of fan-fiction that managed to work its way into the real work. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a kick out of Sawyer and Juliet time-hopping their way into the 1970s Dharma Initiative or Sayid interacting with a young Ben Linus, but I also don’t like that they’re part of the actual show. Like season 5, it had an investing sense of forward momentum and enough WTF moments (you’d be hard pressed to find more jaw-dropping moments than Locke’s real body being dropped out of Lapidus’ box or Juliet setting of the bomb in her final moments). The final season is a deeply flawed crescendo that messily attempted to wrap up the dangling loose ends in a purposefully ambiguous manner. It starts with the dullest segment of the series, spending an overlong amount of time in an ancient Temple that was not only completely illogical, but amounted to very little (and for a show with fairly vibrant set design, the coloring of the Temple was shockingly ugly). The rest of the season seemed to drift along until occasionally coming to life in shocking and teary-eyed moments that should have been less few and far between.

That brings us to the much-debated finale. I…think I liked it? Nowhere near as much as I wanted to, and much of that was due to the flash-sideways. An entire season’s worth of an alternate reality timeline was just too much for something that had very little impact on the main plot. I enjoyed certain segments, especially the return of Charlie and Desmond’s relationship, but the end result of it being a form of purgatory felt incredibly underwhelming. Not only was the reveal quite unclear on first viewing, but it resembled the most sappy, cheesily executed way to elicit “awws” from the audience. The on-Island events felt appropriately conclusive, packed with enough excitement and heartfelt goodbyes (though none of them living up to the nerve-jangling subway escape earlier in the season) that makes me put more of the blame on the entire season for failing to answer our long-awaited questions. Still, I can’t escape the feeling that I should have felt a lot more after so much time with the show.

I should have felt a lot more because I already felt a hell of a lot. Even though the show went through so many radical transformation, there was a reason I never once felt like quitting. Right from the start, the show built in an immediate emotional investment with these characters that was hard to turn away. And when the emotions hit with these people, they hit (quick side note: Michael Giacchino’s diverse score deserves an immense amount of credit for elevating the dramatic moments with his swelling melodies). Many trendsof modern-day television were established and even perfected here, from the mystery-box storytelling, shocking deaths, and the start of serialized network TV> For all of its ups and downs, I think the best of this show gave us a sensation other television could rarely capture. It wasn’t perfect, but I’m definitely happy I found Lost.

Almost A Critic

Discussion about this post

Almost A Critic

I just finished watching Lost for the first time, and I have thoughts

After almost 20 years since its premiere, I reflect on my experience after binge-watching the entire show over the past few months

More from Almost A Critic

Discussion about this post