TV COLUMN: 'LOST' - SEASON 6, EPISODE 12

"The Last Recruit" - We Can Theorize About What’s Next for Us

By: Josh Moorhead

April 21, 2010

I’m a mess, people. I am Jerry Maguire standing in Renee Zellweger’s doorway. Words fall short of feelings. I stand there staring at Lost and I just want to steal Renee’s line and say it “had me at hello,” do away with all this needless dissecting and analyzing, and run into its arms and kiss it hard and good.

And then I remember this isn’t my private journal again. Crap.

What happened on last night’s Lost again? Oh, I don’t know! What was it even called again? Who cares?!

For chips and ha-ha’s, let’s see what phrases I managed to scribble in my notes. Hm… “Lies!” “Disability saves.” “Kate is Catwoman.” “Jesus stick vs. Devil stick.” “Creeps!” “Mounting mounting mounting.” “Horrible horrible bastard.” “Larry David eyes.” “Crazy bad.”

At least one of those will directly apply to whatever becomes of this column — yes, crazy bad. Some of those insane mutterings are potentially interesting.

“Disability saves.” <—— Twice now, Locke, or a version of him, has been saved by things he himself despised about himself. On the island, when Ben shot him, the bullet was rendered useless as it passed through the empty cavity where Locke’s kidney once sat delightfully and obliviously fatherless. Then the jerk took the thing. Just so happens that organ theft saved Locke’s life. Parallel Locke only lived through Desmond Grand Theft Auto-ing him because of the rickety armor his wheelchair provided. Fate? Mayhaps. Nay, Yayhaps. There’s no fencing the issue for those who don’t like it anymore — there’s something of fate in Lost, something in the story it’s telling that will not skirt the issue of there being more than just reckless momentum and random instance in at least the world it’s created, in the point it means to get across. Locke’s penchant for being saved by his shortcomings reminded me of something from the B-I-B-L-E (relax, heathens! my column last week was 100% religion reference free!). So now try this sample with no obligation to order: “And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:7-9) To me, this is about overcoming or accepting certain deficiencies or shortcomings so that our bads don’t get the best of us but make the best of us. Call it learning from mistakes. Call it learning to let go and realizing you can’t fix everything on your own like Jack did last week. Call it faith. Call it accepting dependence. Call it a lucky coincidence that Locke’s kidney space would be open real-estate when a bullet passed through…but that’s not what Lost is calling it. Revelation doesn’t always come wrapped in a shiny bow on Christmas morning by the fireplace. Most times it comes in the gutter, through gritted teeth and sweat and spit, by trial, by what might seem like affliction but, in the cosmic sense, is no more horrible than repeatedly lifting a weight even though it hurts. Could Smokey be the messenger of Satan buffeting all of them? But I digress because, after all, I am digressing.

“Jesus Stick vs. Satan Stick” <———– Rocking another season 3 throwback jersey, Smoke Locke’s curious stick that was as free of markings as it was of purpose until this episode reminded me of Mr. Eko’s (RIP) “Jesus stick” as so coined by Charlie at the time. It was Eko’s rod of righteousness of sorts, as it was inscribed with plenty of Bible verses, but Eko definitely wasn’t afraid to drop a sucker with it. Similarly, the stick seemed to have little purpose until it lit the way for Locke and his crew then to find another Dharma station (I honestly can’t remember which one at this point). But that station lead them eventually to the Looking Glass station. And then I was reminded, when Sayid fell over the hose in Nadia’s backyard in this episode, how he tripped over a wire under the sand in season 1, wiggling out to the Looking Glass. And dropping the phrase “drop a sucker” reminds me of how, last night, Smoke Locke charged that real Locke “wasn’t a believer; he was a sucker.” Hogwash. That Locke may have been conned into his death, sure, but it does not mean that that death, that suffering still does not serve a purpose Locke would have stood for…well, if we’re talking about the Locke that can stand. Smokey’s blank stick, with nothing to offer but destruction (of Widmore’s walkie) was just another reason for me to believe this guy is the Bad News Bears Go To Hell (really agreed to be the worst in the Bad News series…well, except for Smokey). And all this reminding reminds me of the stacked and endless stairwells that make up Lost with no discernible beginning or end. But again, I digress…

“Kate is Catwoman” <——– Pretty much I think I thought this because she was wearing leather and was kind of hot. Also something about her sly duplicitousness in the scene, but ehhhhh – fagetaboutit!

“Creeps!” <———– I saw a spider scurry across my floor. Actually, this is about…nope, not Smokey but Sideways Desmond. His whole escorting Claire around that marble tower to floor 15 was so surreal and unsettling to me, but not off-putting. He was like an alien or, perhaps more likely, an angel — something with infinitely more knowledge than you that intimidates you because of just how inconsequential it can view your moment or your whole life as in the grand scheme of things. And the fact that Desmond had just dominated Locke’s wheelchair in the destruction derby it didn’t even know it entered is some proof of this. But as nonchalant and even dismissive as these actions are, they’re not malevolent, which makes them all the more creepy. “What does this thing know and know about me that I don’t?!” Ya know?

“Lies!” “Horrible horrible bastard.” “Larry David eyes.” <———— Where there are phrases like “horrible horrible bastard,” there’s Smokey. I jotted that when I was offended by Smokey’s arrogant damned near ownership of zombie Sayid. I was reminded of Sayid’s good times. Building radios. Loving hot beach ballerinas many years his junior. Loyal to the last. Always ready to jujitsu for those he aligned himself with and cared about. And then Smokey corrupted all of this. Twisted it to his ends. And I resented him for it. At the same time, though, maybe Sayid was redeemed. After Des talked to him from the bottom of the well where Sayid was sent to kill him in cold blood, we didn’t see what happened. We were left to conclude Des could lead a Sayid to water but not necessarily make him drink. But I’m convinced this bullet was the one that Sayid couldn’t fire — the one that got him back to his senses. And when Smokey asked him about it and Sayid assured him he killed Desmond, Smokey gave him those Larry eyes. Curb Your Enthusiasm fans know my lingo here. It’s a critical, suspicious and detective stare that studies its focus’s honesty and intention. Smokey appeared to take Sayid at his word. That was about as false as taking Smokey for his. I’m telling you there’s no way Sayid shot our Lost Braveheart. And it’s Des’s brave heart that tried from the bottom of the well to convince Sayid that proper and honorable love is earned, yearned for in patience but not stolen, or it is tainted. “Lies!”(?) Well, backing up a few feet, I don’t believe for a millisecond that Smokey was always the Christian doppelganger that appeared to Jack and others — definitely not the one that lead Jack to water. I was utterly convinced of it in the scene where Smokey said he was. There was something in the whole design of it, right down to the performance of the character that said don’t trust this guy. I don’t. He’s the devil. But I think in his lost touch with lying and loss of control and awareness, he’s losing steam (see: power).

“Mounting mounting mounting.” <————- Oh yes. This is really what I want to talk about. This is where I go all Jerry Maguire. Confession: I am growing less and less cerebral about Lost. And it’s not about laziness. It’s about love. Recap this episode? Fine. Middle-aged scientists lobbed missiles at a monster made of a smoke cloud who possessed a dead man’s body. Meanwhile, that guy is rounding up a posse, but this same posse is existing at the same time in another place in another world. One of them is Korean and can speak English, except for right now when she can’t because she hasn’t seen her husband in three years because he was stuck in the 1970s. (Aside: Sun and Jin’s reunion was executed with little fanfare but actually tugged these here heartstrings more than I thought it might. I kinda thought they both might get fried in the sonic weapon fence, though, which would have at least been…shocking? Rim shot. End scene.) There’s also a guy at the bottom of a well whose mind can travel time and dimensions. And there’s a dead guy named Jacob who’s been fishing and weaving in the bottom of a hollowed-out foot for maybe thousands of years who’s been watching them all like TV from the mirrors in a lighthouse. Look, this show is f*cking nuts, okay? Bordering on nonsense.

But it’s MY damn show, okay? And it’s YOURS too. I love this thing and I’ve been with it so long now, and feel like I know it so well that it’d be pretty much impossible for me to explain it to you. YOU is anyone who doesn’t know Lost like WE do. Anyone that hasn’t been with it. Don’t tell US what Lost is or isn’t! Don’t tell US what WE can or can’t do!

I’ve noticed I’ve started playing back Lost on my DVR later and later each week now. That my heart pounds through the episodes and not necessarily because of anything on screen. I heart Lost. I want to send it a mix CD. I want to sign its yearbook telling it how much it’s meant to me and to keep in touch. I want to see it properly represented in the senior slide show at graduation. That, after all, is what we’re heading for. And honestly, I’ve come to the point where I can’t watch these episodes and figure out how much I even like them. I can tell when I love them, but evaluating them honestly from week to week? I’ve lost it. Because honestly, I just want to savor these last few. I don’t know really how coherent Lost is anymore. I don’t know if it’s even playing as well as it once did. I get the hunch maybe it isn’t. Lines like the Cap’n's “Looks like someone just found her voice,” that unconvincing tear that came down Kate’s cheek when talking to Claire, the general absurdity that someone as once skeptical as Jack, or a place like the island that was once more real with hints of the mysterious and surreal have now converted so that Jack can have a fireside chat with a monster and ask him if he’s his dead Dad…I mean, look — it’s all a little trippy.

But I think I’ve finally discovered what Lost is about. It’s about us. There are more important things going on in the world today. Heck, there were more important things on television last night even (I would highlight Jon Stewart’s musical attack on Fox News over at The Daily Show for one). Speaking of musicals and TV, Fox’s Glee is really starting to blow up right now, and last night was the anticipated Madonna episode. In, like, three or five years when Glee is about to kick it, it’ll be all, “Hey, remember that Madonna episode? Yeah! That was on while Lost was on TV. Really? It felt later than that. No way, I remember — because there was that crazy volcano no one could spell in Europe. Oh yeah, and Iron Man 2 was out, right? No, that was a little later. I remember because…”

In the end, these entertainments and Lost are about that. The way we were. The way we were when we started watching. The way we are now when we finish only to someday remember, and what all that means to us. You can’t EXPLAIN Lost. And not just because it’s a nearly impenetrable amalgam of sci-fi-thriller-literary-religious themes and references and tropes. It’s because explaining Lost is explaining what it means to you. I’ve been lucky enough (at least unto this point anyway) to be able to do a little bit of that every week this season. If I’ve been lucky enough to connect with anyone while doing it, well then I’m flattered and Lost must be that good at hitting on some examples of our shared experiences. But honestly, in a few years, I’ll probably remember writing these buggers more than what I wrote. Which, in a way, is kind of the point.

I’m not willing to do the full Maguire here. I will not say Lost completes me. It sure doesn’t. But it’s managed to become a part. And I’m gonna be real sad to see it go because it will mean that a measuring stick that I was in some way using to mark time in my life will have expended itself. And on top of that, I’m gonna be hard pressed to find another entertainment that plays that part as well as Lost so consistently and effectively has. But I will soldier on like the rest of us and remember those special Lost years we shared, that for me took me from my first year of college to my first year in Los Angeles, and for the rest of us to many other interesting and wonderful and sometimes trying places.

One of the notes I wrote down tonight was “Blinky Brow Jack.” Matthew Fox, God bless ‘em, plays Jack so that anytime he gets into a shocking or perplexing moment, he does this thing where he blinks a lot and then barely touches his forehead with the tips of his fingers. It’s Blinky Brow Jack! What a cool ability for an action figure, right? But I chuckled as I saw Fox do it in the scene in the sideways where he found out Claire was his sister. That’s how well we’ve gotten to know these characters. This show. Even when it starts to border on an impressionistic version of itself, if in fact it is. Like I said, I can’t really tell and I don’t know if I care. But I realized I was going to miss that tick, that character.

And then Jack was sailing away on a boat to leave the island when Sawyer giddy-up’ed to talk to him. Jack said whenever he left the island he felt like something was missing. And Sawyer said there was no more going back. They were both right. In June, we’ll feel that empty island space, but we will be done. A series over, but for us just another episode in life. Great one, though, great one. And then we can theorize instead about what’s next for us. Or see what mysteries await on Glee.