[Warning: some spoilers ahead...]
So let's count how many times I've blogged about Lost ever since we started watching the series: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and now ten (plus nominal mentions here and here). And is it any wonder? I adored Buffy- it will always be my TV first-love (okay, actually, that accolade might have to go to Northern Exposure), but Lost is a whole other dimension altogether (and I mean that in a myriad of ways...). I love that it demands something of me- a kind of commitment if you will- to its intricate narrative and tightly woven plot. If you missed something in Season 1, a conversation you're watching in Season 4 isn't going to have the same resonance; find that scene familiar? It's probably a mirror of something that happened a season and a half ago. A mystery you had long thought was never going to be addressed suddenly unravels before you like you had only seen it last week. Lost is not a forgiving show to obsess over- it insists on your devotion to every minute detail. And I am its willing slave.
It would be pompous to declare that I understand everything about Lost's mythology- honestly, I couldn't care less if I never find out the provenance of the four-toed statue or who/what Smokey is. And I'm OK with not catching ever single reference to Nietzsche, Phillip K. Dick or social-contract theory. But if I wanted to, I could. For an hour every week, a TV show doesn't insult my intelligence and actually expects me to engage with it, demands that I invest myself in its intricacy and complexity. Some people say it's too pseudo-cerebral, that the writers are just making things up as they go along and throwing whatever philosophical and literary psycho-babble they can conjure into the mix. To them, I say this: I'd much rather spend an hour deconstructing illusory references to dead philosophers than watch a man wearing a crown on his head and a clock around his neck pick the next love of his life from a bevy of self-absorbed, narcissistic, half-naked buxom women. Besides, I enjoy a relaxing, no-brainer experience in front of the TV as much as the next person and that's what Comedy Central, the Food Network and Bravo are for.
And even if all the mythology doesn't appeal to you, there's plenty of action, drama and downright good acting to go around. For one, Sun's tragic hysteria in reaction to her husband's (apparent?) death last night was enough to reduce me to tears. And there has never been a more dramatic car reversal when the action picked up exactly from where the Season 3 finale ended and Kate returned to confront Jack about having to go back to the island. Don't even get me started on Sawyer's sacrifice or Ben's all-round awesomeness... And Locke in the coffin?? WTH!!!
See here for an excellent Slate article on why the fourth season of Lost is the best one yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment