Lost

In a year that features the final episodes of the longest running action-espionage TV show ever (24), some of the best drama one can find (Mad Men) and a new HBO super-production from the team that brought us Band of Brothers (Pacific), it comes to nobody's surprise that none of the above are even close to the biggest event in TV or even entertainment. That is because 2010 features the most awaited-for finale since The Sopranos took its bow in 2007: ABC's Lost. So how does the show stack up, now that it's over? What was it all about, now that the black smoke has dissipated (give yourself a tap on the back if you got that reference)?

Lost was a show about an Island. The Island. It's the defining characteristic of the show at first glance, a place as interesting as it was mysterious, taking its place in pop culture ever since it came along. On The Island you could find whispers, polar bears, secrets, more dead bodies than many cemeteries, statues, boats, hatches, dynamite, guns, and airplanes. And so much more. You know, the good stuff. But this island was more than a trash can for crazy ideas that the producers thought up and threw in. This Island was full of people.


Lost was a show about characters. Living (mostly), believable, fascinating characters, that acted according to their principles (or lack thereof). Indeed, every one of them had motivation, an arc, a back-story, covering the entire range of human existence, from babies to men incredibly old, from priests to torturers, men of science and men of faith. Everyone acted as such for a reason. These characters often clashed, and when they did, it always proved to be something worth thinking about, from philosophy to the simple management of the group's resources post-crash.

Lost was a philosophical show. It encompassed themes from all major religions, touching on life and death, duality, fate, determinism, hope, revenge, and fulfillment. What other show merged its main characters with such themes by actually naming them after influential philosophers (Locke, Rousseau, Hume, to name a few)? Lost was never preachy in its web of motifs though, and the producers knew when to shift a gear when needed, and did so, resulting in some of the most intriguing action sequences on TV in the last decade.



Lost was a show about action. Things happened, fights broke out, explosions pulverized everything around them, people were shot, animals were hunted, glances were exchanged, and tears were shed. It always carried a feeling of importance, like it was the only thing that was worth seeing, like it was airing with purpose. One of the most important notions on the show was that everything happened for a reason. It never seemed too over the top, nor low-key, but rather just right as far as everything was concerned, from humor to seriousness.



Lost was a funny show. While no characters existed for pure comedic relief, some were funny as hell. From Sawyer's nicknames, to Hurley's sometimes geeky references, knowing how and especially when to insert a joke, mainly because something big was always going on in the background.


Lost was a sad show. Viewers cried their hearts out when it got really sad, and Lost had its fair share of sad moments during its six year run. This sadness is inherent to the show's hugely ambitious scope, with tragedies abounding on all levels, both cosmic and personal.



Lost was a show that was grandiose. Everything was exotic, from the sets on The Island, to Michael Giacchino's perfect music. Part of Lost's huge appeal was that one could not care about what actually happened, and still be awe-struck by some of the best cinematography and sound mixing ever seen or heard on TV.


Lost was a show about choice. For a show about choice, it's ironic that it gave you little to no choice to keep on watching episode after episode, season after season. Those who followed the show from the beginning were, of course, the most rewarded when "The End" finally came, but for a show so heavy in mythology, mysteries and questions, one could have jumped in anytime in the first two or three seasons. After that, it was a whole other ballgame. The choices the characters made were never left without repercussions, their stubbornness prevailing in the end, man preserving his power over the universe, through choice. "Don't tell me what I can't do" seems more than a catch-phrase, uttered when the writers had no idea what to do, but a guide they followed when writing it.

Lost was a fantastically written show. The writing on Lost has been the best of the last few years in television, without exception. Even on an off day, it was instantly quotable ("See you in another life,brother";"Go get Jack";"Others!"), and the immense number of quotes, slogans and mantras this show is going to generate gives me a headache just thinking about it. A few years from now, someone seeing Lost from the beginning will be greeted by the same familiarity that exists when one watches a classical movie for the first time. They'll know many lines, identify some original ideas before hand, and make the necessary connections easily, because so much of this show is universal. Which is not to say that Lost was predictable. The writers were only outdid by the actors as far as I'm concerned.


Lost was a perfectly acted show. Featuring a huge cast of over 14 main members (in the first season) and many more secondary ones, it boasts one of the most talented groups of actors ever brought on screen for such a long time in studio-years. Starting from stereotypical characters, the writers subverted all clichés.

Matthew Fox plays Jack, the young, handsome, doctor, who steps up (but not with his own accord) as leader for the survivors of flight 815,but has daddy issues, doubts, uncertainties and regrets.

Terry O'Quinn plays John Locke with the steadiness only a veteran can provide, presenting a human side to the stoic paraplegic who regains use of his legs after the crash.

Michael Emerson plays Ben Linus, in what might be the most underrated role and performance of the last decade. His quiet but menacing demeanor defines a man who always seems to know more than he lets on, balancing the truth with oh-so-many lies. Ben and Locke are formidable on-screen, and as much as they do appear, they always leave the viewer wanting for more.

The struggle between Locke (the man of faith) and Jack (the man of science) was the focal point of the series for its entire run, and the pay-off is as rewarding as it could have been. What about Sawyer, Kate, Desmond? Sayid, Jin, and Sun? No one skipped a beat in six years and it's too bad that awards have to single out performances because Lost was an acting master class through and through.


All of this praise is just a general view of Lost, without actually dissecting what happened, and what it happened for. Fans will discuss this show long after it's over, especially considering the final episode, aptly titled "The End". "The End" was not unlike the series finales of MASH, The Sopranos or Seinfeld, in that it was created to fit a mold the series sculpted before it. It gives the entire series a sense of cohesion, in the same way the final chapter of a novel ties everything together. I may have expected something else, but what I got was what I, as a viewer, needed. It leaves behind it a yearning in fans, one that might never be fully quenched, since I doubt another show like this will ever come along again.


Lost was the first defining show of the internet era, because in spite of the fact that excellent TV was made besides it, none felt tailor made to a generation that needs puzzles, and craves information and discussion as much as ours. It may truly be the last show that can ever be anything for anyone at the same time.Unfortunately,it's over, and everyone must move on and accept it, but where are we, as fans, after six years? Where has this show left us after all this time?

We're a bit older, but hopefully more experienced, more chiseled. We still do what we want to, whether we are meant to or not. We're emotionally involved, because it's human to be, and we sometimes get hurt for this. We're still here, on route to our final destination, as we always were. There's the past, which accounts for everything we are, and there's the future that accounts for everything we will be. But essentially, we're in the present, trying to live as best we can.

There has to be a word that perfectly describes the above situation.


Oh, yes.


Lost.

Stefan