My wife, Jennifer, recently presented a paper on LOST regarding online fan communities and their impact on the series. She is also the one who initially convinced me to watch LOST. So it wouldn’t be fitting if she didn’t have her say about what secrets were both withheld and revealed in the series finale.
My first response when that screen went black Sunday night was “Huh.” I drew a blank. My mom, with whom I have watched the show from the beginning, and I couldn’t even talk about what we had just seen. It was so different from anything we had anticipated, that we didn’t even have anything on which to base a conversation.
What the finale did leave me with was a very distinct emotion, one that I’m not sure I had felt before and that had certainly never been evoked by a television show. Something akin to melancholy, bittersweetness, optimism, and uneasiness all rolled into one. It took a good night’s sleep before I was able to start dissecting what that last scene meant and why it left such a unique impression. I’m also able to begin (emphasis on the fact that this is definitely just the beginning) to work toward what my final analysis will be on whether the finale—and the show as a whole—was a success.
I’ll start with the main topic that was on everyone’s mind on Sunday 9/8 C.
I like to think I’m a pretty smart guy. I like to think that I have gained something from the years of being trained to look at literature from all angles. I like to think this. But after watching LOST’s finale episode, I feel like a grade-schooler trying to write a thesis on War and Peace.
I can think of two reason for this occurrence: 1) “The End” was a tightly knit and carefully woven metaphor/allegory that is going to take a lot of time, energy, and subsequent rewatches to unravel or 2) Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse are completely full of shit.
Tonight’s it. LOST ends. For good.
Despite not being entirely wrapped up in the sixth season or understanding some creative choices that have been made this year, I expect the finale to be spectacular. At least at first.
I expect to watch it a few times after it airs and get stuck with what I call “Phantom Menace Syndrome,” which is a movie or TV show was really awesome upon first watching it but subsequent viewings highlight all the flaws that hype/excitement forced the audience to overlook initially.
LOST ends tomorrow night. Forever. There just aren’t words.
So here are some videos to ease our collective pain.
One week. That’s all there is. Actually, under that now. Two episodes, roughly three hours, and then my favorite show—potentially of all time—will be over.
I only started watching the DVDs when LOST was between Seasons 3 and 4, but it just does not seem right that the series is ending. That the Island will never offer viewers up any more mysteries or half-answers. We’ll never see a new shot of Sawyer swimming without his shirt on or Kate hunched over tracking Jack through the jungle. No more nicknames, no more Dharma backstory, no more wondering how all this could be happening on that one, tiny Island. No more numbers, no more literary allusions, no more nothing.
In fact, I’m pretty sure we won’t be getting that many answers in the next couple of episodes, either. And I’m pretty sure the aptly titled finale (“The End” for those who don’t know yet) will only open the door to more questions that we will never have an answer to.
And I’m not sure if I’m okay with that.