TV COLUMN: 'LOST' - SEASON 6, EPISODE 11

"Everybody Loves Hugo" - Let Me Point Out the Most Obvious Reference in Last Night's Ep..

By: Josh Moorhead

April 14, 2010

I’ve gotta be honest with you — I don’t have much to say about Lost this week. Or I don’t think so. Or not as much as I sometimes do. Let me begin by saying I was wrong. “I was wrong.” I think. A ways back, I said in the impending episode “Everybody Loves Hugo” (or the one we just watched), the sideways iterations of our characters would start popping up to Hurley and wonder where the H they were. As far as I can tell, this did not happen. Could it still happen? Maybe. Am I upset it didn’t happen? Not really. Forgive me if I’m being too blase. Maybe characters are starting to rub off on me.

Let’s take Hurley out of the equation for a moment. I know last night was his jam, but I’m going to skip the track momentarily. The dispositions of some our core characters, and the differences therein, are fascinating to me. We have Sayid — the devil may care, soulless killer who’s more terminator robot than anything now. Then there’s Desmond, who seems very Paul to me — that would be Bible Paul — dude who converted in a flash of light and then was more or less easy-come-easy-go with imprisonments and shipwrecks and beatings thereon out. If you’d like, we can play the record backwards and say Beatles Paul too, as in “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” as in Paul is dead, as in Desmond is actually dead, as in the island’s purgatory, but then you’d be wrong because we’ve been told the island is 1) not purgatory (at least not classical purgatory) and 2) Paul played a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, like, last week. That doesn’t all make sense anyway. Then there’s Jack, somewhere in the middle — a soul stationed somewhere between death and redemption, maybe at acceptance. “I can’t fix anything,” Jack says. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe I’m supposed to let go.” Maybe. Am I upset at these character motivations? Not really. Forgive me if I’m being too blase. The characters, and Lost, are starting to rub off on me.

“Everybody Loves Hugo” was an episode of faith and not revelation. We’ve been here before, fellow 815 passengers. Too many times to count. “Everybody Loves Hugo” felt more or less like halftime. A band took the field. We were entertained. We checked our watches and took pee and pretzel breaks, eagerly waiting for the action to resume. Lost would have been remiss if it didn’t have another Hurley-centric episode in its final season, and I’m glad they did, but you wonder if somehow Hurley’s 44 minutes to shine could have been more compelling, or if some characters’ final bows, like Kate’s, would have better been left on the floor. The mojo I’m getting from this season is different from what I expected. In January, I expected every episode to blast us with “wowzerz!” events or key answers. I guess, in some ways, this has been true. Last night, Ilana blew up, the Black Rock blew up, Desmond fell down a well, and John Locke turned into a crash test dummy being furled through the air and then back into John Locke. A lot of that was unexpected and such, but the vibe I was talking about more resembles last week’s masterful episode, where equally surprising moments were paired with the light bulbs of answers.

For what it’s worth, I actually think the moment Desmond hit sideways Locke with his car sending him in flight at the close of last night’s episode is the most important moment we’ve gotten of the season so far. But I’ll get to that.

I say I don’t have as much to say this week because usually text space is filled with an abundance of references and metaphors — which I guess I’ve done some of already — but Lost didn’t cite too many sources last night; instead, it was autobiographical in a way — self-referential. Ilana blowing up = Arzt blowing up in season one. Hurley blowing up the Black Rock = dynamite at the hatch in season one. Smoke Locke throwing Desmond down a well = Ben throwing real Locke into the pit in season three. Even last night’s title, “Everybody Loves Hugo” = “Everybody Hates Hugo” from season two. All of that’s neat, a kind of VH1′s “I Love The Season-ties” nostalgia trip, but it lacks larger insight; besides, the Lost narrative is cyclical in somehow.

If “Everybody Loves Hugo” was self-referential, then maybe it’s worth expanding on the moments it referenced. But I suppose this far into the recap, I should actually recap. In the sideways, Hurley was a beloved and famous man who took his Lottery winnings and took what was a curse in one reality and made it a blessing, delving out many good deeds to many. He was rewarded a T-Rex statue by Dr. Chang. “Pretty cool statue,” he said. Pretty cool indeed. But he was also a man alone in the universe, until a double-blind date where Hurley was stood up by a woman he was expecting but fulfilled by one he wasn’t. That’d be Libby, who already knew Hurley from another life and was presumed crazy for it. On island, everybody was struck with a nasty case of the “whatta we do nows,” and Desmond went on a walk with Smokey which is tantamount to Uncle Sam trusting Osama bin Laden if he invited him out to the caves just for tea, he promises, no really! Life to America, life! Yeah, whatever you say, beardy. But even as it was illustrated to us that Smokey is most definitely not to be trusted (what?! He threw Desmond down a well?! But he seemed like such a nice guy!), Hurley led the remaining candidates straight to Smokey’s camp and then tried to make a pact of trust. Something smells fishy. But smoked fishy.

If we were supposed to draw comparisons to “Everybody Hates Hugo” from season two, I suppose they’d be something like this. In that episode, we saw Hurley win the Lottery, not know what to do with his wealth, and his life deteriorated for it as he was subjected to unwanted attention and people’s demands. He also sought a date from a cute girl at a record store. In island world, Hurley was appointed duty over food distribution from the stockpile of Dharma brand grub that was discovered in the hatch. Hurley darn near blew all the food up in an effort to skirt the conflict of riches — the same curse that beleaguered him shore-side. It wasn’t until he decided to just give the food to everyone that everything was okely dokely. And Rose stopped him from blowing it all up, then saved a candy bar for her sweet-toothed husband, Bernard. We discovered Bernard was alive and well on the other side of the island with the also crashed tail section.

This makes me think a few things. Hurley is at his best when he shares. Commie bastard! Sorry. Ahem. Anyway, Hugo is happy when he gives and isn’t comfy when in charge. This makes certain events from last night feel a bit unsettling. I can’t help feeling that even if it plays into the island’s cosmic purpose, Hurley’s actions in lugging his buddies into Smokey’s evil lair were all wrong. Blowing up the Black Rock? Maybe. Using up the rest of the dynamite? Definitely. I particularly find Rose’s calming advice to Hurley in “Hates” a lot more trustworthy than “Sure I’m a ghost; whatever you say; look, just go over there” Michael’s in “Loves.” My level of discomfort partially stems from Hurley’s own unease with his new leadership, which was showcased from his indecisive conversation with Jack to, more importantly, his lame con-man act after blowing up the Black Rock. It was the first time I can remember where Hurley tried to use the temptation of information and secrets to guide a group, and I believe it tainted him a bit.

Now for some of those other, more particular references. Ilana blowing up = Arzt blowing up. I believe mostly Ben was right here when he said “the island was done with” Ilana. This was kind of a clever nod at how Lost has been written over the years — the moment a character completes serving their purpose to the storyline, it seems we can bet that character will be marching off to the grave. That’s in the telling of Lost. In actual Lost, people become dispensable as soon as their island purpose was served. You have to wonder what Ilana’s was exactly. If it was to protect the candidates, had she already done it as much as she needed to? Are they unprotected now, and for what reason? Like I said, Hurley’s leading the vulnerable into the enemy’s clutches ain’t right, but it might be what’s supposed to happen. The Black Rock/hatch comparison was the most compelling, although in season one, Hurley was running to an explosion he meant to stop and he failed. Does that mean that last night he was running from an explosion that happened but shouldn’t have? Either way, the kaboom of an island favorite landmark is a strong indicator that we’re almost done here. Desmond’s “down the rabbit hole” reminiscent tumble into the donkey wheel well (again, I have to note how freaking crazy this all sounds) was also reminiscent of Ben’s push of Locke into the purge pit in Season 3. Both committed their actions for the same reasons — a fear at the loss of power, a rejection that someone could have more knowledge/strength than themselves. Back when Ben rejected Locke’s ability to hear “Jacob,” his ascendancy to the Other throne, and his lack of fear in Ben, now Smokey tosses Desmond for the powers he might possess and his ability to stand fearless in the face of evil. It’s all so Blue Oyster Cult. “Don’t Fear the Reaper.” If you aren’t afraid of the bogeyman, it loses its guts and strength. Now more cowbell!

Asides: I found Smokey’s description of Widmore’s purposes, even though I don’t trust the bugger, to be very similar to my Jurassic Park/John Hammond evaluation: “people digging for answers with spinning compasses.” I still think Jacob might be pitting his nemeses, Widmore and Smokey, against each other. Oh, and for what it’s worth, the Rose/Bernard divide = the Sun/Jin one. But that’s soooo the past two seasons. Just find each other already!

The off-island sideways was another story. Call it Sleeping Hurley. In a sleep, he had to have his princess come and kiss him awake. Libby told him she knew him, liked him a lot. It was another life. Hurley didn’t really believe her but thought she was a nice broad. After meeting her at the psych ward that was adorned in all kinds of island imagery, they set off to the ocean for a picnic. And in a kiss, a new world washed over Hurley. It seems in the other reality, the new level of consciousness is achieved by a near death, or a near life experience. Near life? Yes. It’s the kind of thing we all look for in our day to day lives — the transcendent moment lurking in the mundane, in the laundromat, at the grocery store, in the office, at the intersection. The search for revelation, the hope for that five minutes if not five seconds that will one day, one second, change your life. That’s what Hurley experienced on the beach — a lifetime in a moment. And suddenly he knew, like Charlie and Mr. Faraday, there was something more to do, something more to find. And that’s what Desmond is seeking to show everyone, no matter what it takes. Like oh, say, looking like a child molester outside of a school only to clear it all up by ramping up his whip and plowing through a cripple.

That’s why Des is a Lost favorite!

Now, back to the supreme importance of this moment. Here’s my first theory bump of the season:

“Theory bump: the Jack on the plane isn’t quite alternate Jack. A strange cut on his neck, his vision of Desmond, his father’s missing coffin. Jack is special.  LAX Jack is going to be getting that hair-raising kind of deja vu we all sometimes get when we start wondering if the Matrix is for real. In Jack’s case, he’s going to realize eventually there’s an alternate life to live on this island, and Desmond is going to reveal this to him.  How do I know? Desmond wasn’t actually on the plane. He blipped into Jack’s consciousness, fulfilling his promise of Season 2 which, we now realize, we should have been taking literally: “See you in another life, brother.” That life is this one — the LAX reality. And Desmond can-do said “blipping” because, as Faraday told him, he is special. Desmond is the key to open doors that will allow our heroes to fulfill their destinies.  Maybe you’ve noticed I haven’t mentioned my favorite character yet: John Locke. Follow me here: LAX Jack — the spinal surgeon with some hope left in his bones, thanks to never having crashed on the island, who tells Locke that “nothing is irreversible” — will mend Locke. LAX Locke will walk again. And then Jack, in a bit of irony, will attempt to convince Locke to go to the other time-line, reality, whatever, and throw-down with evil smoke monster Locke.”

A good bit of this still holds a sufficient weight of truthfulness. Des’s transplanted consciousness is specializing in spreading the island awareness, Jack is slowly becoming aware of it (as are others), and now Locke will be back in the hospital where Jack will treat him. Once Jack realizes there’s another life to live where his father’s coffin is (as he’ll see in a vision), he and the others will jet-set to where they believe the island to be.

I’ve been trying to figure out how Lost will finish its cyclical narrative. Perhaps our island heroes will be complacent in a set-up that lets their other selves crash on the island to repeat the game. Or somethin’. I dunno.

Point is, after last night, I’m also kind of back to where I was when I said it’s time to stop making points. Like Desmond, I’m content to go with the flow and trust; like Jack, I’m willing to let go, as we all will after May, but unlike Sayid, I’m not giving up my hope yet. I believe the answers are coming. “Everybody Loves Hugo” just wasn’t that episode.

But since I’m supposed to at least pretend I’m a professional writer here, let me point out the most obvious reference in last night’s ep: Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground. Or Ilana’s curious piece of island reading. Curious because Notes isn’t much of a beach novel. Rather, it’s about a bitter, barren island of a man and his constant critique of, but inability to fully become a part of, society. That’s a bit of a head-scratcher in Lost comparison, but other themes — not so much. Besides society on the whole, Notes is a critic of “intellectual and moral vacillation.” See: the constant accommodation or gray areas, which is interesting because Notes also defines war as “people’s rebellion against the assumption that everything needs to happen for a purpose, because humans do things without purpose, and this is what determines human history.” There seems to be nothing we vacillate more on when it comes to Lost. Notes is also about suffering — even the enjoyment of suffering — the small moments and interactions with strangers that can change a person’s whole path, and resistance to close human relationships. There’s some Locke in there, some Sawyer in there, some Jack and Kate. Plenty of people also regard Notes as the pilot work of existentialism.

And that’s why I think Ilana done gone and blew up. Fairness alert: I’ve got big problems with existentialism and its broad wishy-washyness and assumptions about a total lack of truth about anything, in short its own vacillating. Surely not all of it, but the most problematic kinds of existentialism resemble relativism, from no definitions of right or wrong, definitely not of purpose, and the kind of sentences best saved for white middle class Rastafarians like “How do we even know this is reeaaaaalllll, maaaaaaaaan? WAIT! Family Feud is coming back on!” That’s what I got out of it in college.

I think Ilana’s kablooey is a rejection of these types of notions, as much as it didn’t seem to be, since Ilana randomly blew up, a reaffirmation of the purpose of it all. That’s what I want to see in it. It’s perfectly acceptable, maybe more sensible, to say her blowing up followed by the focus on the book actually confirms its notions about “there’s no reason for anything” rather than refutes them. Still, I think it’s strange reading for Ilana, who’s put her whole life into a belief and pursuit of a singular purpose and belief, in Jacob.

Speaking of Jacob, we got that boy running around the woods again, grinning and pissing off Smokey. I think it’s Teen Jacob (suddenly resisting a Teen Wolf joke, then a Twilight joke, then a hoard of Twilight fans trying to invade my Lost space and desanctify it — Out, I say, you rabid tweens and ab hounds! Out!). Jacob, or whatever power bestowed his and Smokey’s own powers on them, is represented in this tyke, and his taunting reminds Smokey he still doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s still in a losing battle.

Maybe the most important reference of all wasn’t even in the episode. The thoroughly creepy tunnel music from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory played over the preview for next week, inter-cutting with dark, psychotic images of Locke and Claire. Damn! How crazy is Claire?! But as long as we’re chatting Wonka, let’s consider they used this music more than because it was creepy. A mysterious and eccentric man draws a select group into his magical, sometimes dangerous world. As they begin to fail in overcoming their personal flaws one by one, test after test, eventually one boy is left standing, Charlie, who is to take Willy’s place, lead a bunch of oompa-loompas, and make sweet sweet chocolate, but first they have to fly off in a glass elevator. This = Lost. Whatever the glass elevator is I think will be represented in the final stagings of the final battle. In the war for meaning.

Didn’t I say I had nothing to say?

Well good, because I think I’m getting a brain mush nosebleed.

But here, I’ll answer Lost for you anyway: http://sagaciouspenguin.blogspot.com/2010/04/lost-comic-ben-tells-it-like-it-is_09.html

Later, planers.