516: 'The Incident, part one'
Wr: Carlton Cuse & Damon Lindelof
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: Jack's decision to put a plan in action in order to set things right on the island is met with some strong resistance by those close to him. Locke assigns Ben a difficult task.
Review: Over the years, we've come to expect a lot from Lost's season finales. From the superlative intrigue of 'Exodus' to the game-changing revelations in 'Through the Looking Glass', the show has consistently upped its game in its closing hours, delivering A-grade episodes time and time again that prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it's the best damn thing on television and perhaps more importantly, keep us all pontificating, theorising and chewing our nails off in frustrated anticipation of its return. It's a shame, therefore, that this is the last time we will get to experience the months of heated debate with our friends, the agonising wait for resolutions to the boatload of additional questions that have been thrown at us, the rejection of just about every other show on the goggle box because, well, "it's not Lost, is it?" This time next year, the story will be resolved, the final chapter delivered, the book firmly closed. It doesn't even bear thinking about, even if it has the potential to be an absolutely stellar viewing experience, given Lindelof and Cuse's track record. It's a good thing then that 'The Incident' manages not only to press all the right buttons, and then some, making it one hell of an experience to leave us with for eight months, but also to be the best damn end to a season that the show has ever produced.
As is tradition, 'The Incident' builds to an apex through the interweaving of fast-paced, disparate narrative strands but, like the duality of Locke's mission to turn the wheel and the Losties' attempts to escape from the Island in last season's 'There's No Place Like Home', it splits its plot firmly in two, counterpointing the journey to Jacob with the journey to the Swan. Part one details the minutiae, drawing together all the parties involved in both missions, while part two features the crescendo, turning the cogs of the narrative in interesting and sometimes completely beguiling ways. This is a masterful structure to adopt as it ensures the viewer's complete engagement through the full ninety minutes; the build is fast-paced and full of its own delectable moments, which in turn makes the arrival of the pay-off all the more rewarding. The story rarely pauses to catch its breath and when it does, it's only to provide us with an important character beat or, more interestingly, a glimpse into the influence of the almighty Jacob on the off-Island lives of the Losties. That we finally get to see the legendary caretaker is enough of a treat, never mind getting an episode that is essentially Jacob-centric. Mark Pellegrino is a superb choice of actor, bringing a palatable sense of wisdom and mystery to the role. With every quietly delivered line and subtle glance, he underlines his power, and age, while also encouraging our allegiance with him. It certainly seems that he is the more sympathetic of the beings responsible for the Island, a reading that is illustrated well by the fantastic opening scene. The conversation between he and 'the other guy' as they look at out at what is probably the Black Rock is very telling: while his counterpart believes that outsiders bring only death and destruction, and therefore should not be allowed to taint the Island, Jacob emphasises the importance of trust, of giving others the benefit of the doubt, and clearly believes in the good inherent in man. For this 'progressive' viewpoint, 'the other guy' derides him, setting up a philosophical binarity that cuts to the heart of the show, that has been there right from the start, most particularly in the approaches of characters such as Jack and Locke. And of course, just to make the scene even more delectable, we get to see the full-blown statue again in all its menacing glory.
The development of this particular strand of the narrative in part one is rather beguiling. The appearance of Jacob at key moments in the history of several of the 815 survivors, while deftly executed, runs the risk of seeming a little superfluous until it becomes apparent, midway through the episode, that there is a purpose to these events. When he appears to a mysteriously bandaged Illyana, and then she subsequently explores the guy's cabin, only to determine that 'someone else has been using it' (leading to a lovely moment in which she torches the place), things start to snap into focus. 'The other guy', it seems, is leading things astray and therefore, it is entirely possible that Jacob's visits to our heroes, however small, are all little shoves in the direction that he needs them to go in in order to put an end to this threat, setting up his players, his army if you will, for their ultimate destinies. His influence on Sayid is certainly indicative of this, as is his healing (effective resurrection?) of Locke when his 'father' pushes him from the building. This scene in particular is superbly executed, with the static, distant camera position greatly amplifying the horror and surprise of the moment.
Speaking of the bald headed one, Terry O'Quinn continues to do an excellent job of demonstrating the changes inherent in the character, as his actions and dialogue become more and more unusual. His desire to murder Jacob juxtaposes prominently with the glimpses we are given of the psuedo-deity's actions: more than ever, the viewer is encouraged to question why this most level-headed and supposedly Island-savvy of leaders would want to maliciously destroy the only person who could perhaps be regarded as his philosophical equal. The scene in which he effectively goads Ben into submission, getting him to both confess about his pathological lying and agree to 'do the deed', as it were, is fantastically creepy for precisely this reason: it jars with all that we know about Locke's character. The viewer is therefore encouraged to begin to question the man which, obviously, is expanded upon in part two.
Back in 1977, things are equally as satisfying. While Kate's arrival on the submarine initially seemed to be a rather lame attempt to fan the flames of the irritating love square, a valid reason is actually given for her actions. The juxtaposition of her mission (with Sawyer and Juliet) to stop the bomb being detonated with Jack, Sayid, Hurley and Miles's mad dash to actually blow the thing up works incredibly well, sustaining the episode's momentum and producing some wonderfully intense moments, from Juliet's accosting of the submarine captain to the shoot-out in Dharmaville, which is genuine edge-of-the-seat stuff. Sayid's injury is a very welcome surprise that adds a touch of uncertainty to things as, given the show's corpse-laden history, it is entirely possible that he will not survive. And then, of course, there's Rose, Bernard and Vincent whose past three years are finally given some back story after eleven episodes on the back-burner. It's a delight to see these two again, however briefly, and their newly-developed, karmic c'est la vie attitude makes for a very refreshing alternative to the maddeningly schizophrenic actions of everyone else around them. Sure, the scene gets a little mawkish in places, particularly when Bernard utters the line, "we just care about being together. That's all that matters in the end" (spew!), but it's good to see the Losties put in their place for a moment. All of this also seems to lend further credence to the theory that they are the 'Adam and Eve' from the first season, the corpses that Jack found lying together in the cave, with one black and one white stone in their pockets... definitely a point worth pondering.
All in all, part one of 'The Incident' is a highly intense, beguiling, rewarding and pretty darn brilliant set-up for the explosive events that occur in part two. The hour ends with Ben resolving to kill Jacob in 2007, and Jack and Sawyer, the two opposing parties in the race to change history, colliding face-first into one another in 1977; if that doesn't keep you coming back for more, I really don't know what will. 9.4
517: 'The Incident, part two'
Wr: Carlton Cuse & Damon Lindelof
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: Jack's decision to put a plan in action in order to set things right on the island is met with some strong resistance by those close to him. Locke assigns Ben a difficult task.
Review: 'The Incident's second instalment takes all the promise of the first and realises it tenfold, providing one hell of a viewing experience that'll have you punching the air, scratching your head, screaming at your TV and blubbing like a baby, all in equal measure. This is a roller-coaster ride for the emotions, jostling constantly between delivering satisfying character development and nail-biting dramatic tension, while throwing in a weighty amount of explanation and (as is to be expected) mystery to boot. The two major events - the race to the Swan and the race to Jacob - both come to stellar crescendos that threaten to change the shape of the show forever.
First, Jack Sheppard's mission to change history. This is fantastically intense stuff, with gun battles blazing here, there and everywhere, electromagnetic catastrophes threatening to cause the end of the world and a slue of brilliant two-handers between characters. Jack and Sawyer's fight in the jungle is a particularly strong example of this; the scene starts out refreshingly calm as, for once, the two share a semblance of honesty with each other and outline their entirely believable motives, but then, predictably, all hell breaks loose. With every aggressive punch to the face, the viewer feels every inch of Sawyer's pain, his reluctance to give up all that he has worked so hard for and come to love. And with every bloody retort, we yearn for Jack's troubled past to be erased, for all the sorrow he has to endure to disappear. The strength of our emotional investment in these most three-dimensional of characters keeps the debate at the core of the storyline completely ambivalent; it is incredibly difficult to side with either party because we understand so deeply, and care so significantly, about both of them. Matthew Fox and Josh Holloway are absolutely fantastic throughout the episode, not only in this particular scene. The former excels particularly in his storming of the Swan site, while the latter absolutely nails both of his harrowing moments with Juliet. The first of these seems a little absurd initially, as his lover effectively abandons their relationship for 'the greater good' or some such crap (the flashback sequence that clarifies her position seems rather artificial and out of place), but gradually, thanks in no small part to the incredible skill of both Holloway and Elizabeth Mitchell, the viewer is able to buy into their plight. The second excruciatingly emotional scene, however, is an absolute beaut from start to finish, as they desperately cling to one another in the midst of 'the incident'. There is nothing mawkish or clichéd about the moment, despite it being an oft-used conceit, because the dialogue is laconic and believable and the actors completely sell every terrifying beat. Holloway manages to pull off intense emotion through a combination of reserve and vocal despair, while Mitchell's oscillation between resigned calm and palatable fear makes her final 'I love you' and willingness to let go all the more poignant. It's an incredibly sad moment, (almost) signalling the end of one of the most loved characters on the show.
Of course, Juliet's actual (apparent) death comes at hour's end when she seemingly manages to detonate the hydrogen bomb. This has to be the single most infuriating cliffhanger since the opening of the hatch in season one. Leaving us on the realisation of the most intriguing trope in the narrative, without any semblance of a hint as to where this may ultimately take us, would seem like a bit of a kick in the teeth if it weren't for the fact that the show does it with such unquestionable style and panache. It's one hell of a point to leave the audience pondering for the next eight months, that's for sure. Is this going to change the course of events? Will this cause Oceanic 815 to actually arrive at its destination, rather than crash on the Island? It is very tempting to think that this is too simple a course for the narrative, especially when one takes the realisation of 'the incident' into consideration. Rather than have the bomb detonate immediately upon its launch down the shaft, Cuse and Lindelof begin the process of the electromagnetic release that causes Chang to lose his arm (very nice touch) and will ultimately lead to the change in the Swan station's purpose. No plot points that we know to have occurred post-1977 are changed here: Radzinsky and Chang both survive, while a number of others die. Is it possible, therefore, that the detonation of the bomb will simply have actually occurred as part of 'the incident' in the timeline as we know it? Will it somehow not be a cataclysmic event that destroys the Island? Will it react with the electromagnetic energy and cause something else to happen? Will it somehow propel the '77 Losties to 2007? Who knows? The writers' continued reiteration of the importance of the fact that 'whatever happened, happened' seems to dissuade the viewer from believing that Jack's plan has actually succeeded.
However, when one takes Jacob's little dalliances through our central characters' histories into consideration, further questions are raised: it certainly seems like he is giving everyone 'a little push' (to quote his scene with Jack) in order to get to where they are now. His scene with Hurley, in particular, hints strongly at this. Thus, is it possible that Jacob is using the '77 Losties to somehow prevent his untimely death in 2007? When he mutters the foreboding line "they're coming" before he is callously kicked into the fire, could he be referring to Kate, Sawyer, Miles, Jin, Jack and Hurley (and maybe Juliet if we're lucky)? Is he using them to change history and therefore prevent things occurring as they do here? Or is it that he has to get them to this place in 2007, but hasn't done so in time? So many questions and so much time to debate them... but the fact that any show can generate such a great level of intrigue, never mind a one as consistently well-written as Lost, deserves nothing but the highest of praise.
And it's not like they stop at 1977, oh no. The contemporary (well, almost) storyline is equally as loaded with beguiling material, ready to be picked at, scrutinised and over-analysed until January 2010. Once again, Terry O'Quinn and Michael Emerson outshine every other member of the cast, knocking not one, not two, but about twenty five out of the park with each passing moment, and it's made all the more impressive by the fact that their characters are both stepping outside of the box somewhat: Locke in his continued confidence and unusual manner and Ben in his subservience and honesty. Of course, Lindelof and Cuse proceed to give us a fantastic explanation as to the course of events, revealing that the bald headed one is, in fact, dead as doornails and that the man claiming to be the Others' leader is 'the other guy' from the opening scene of part one. Now then. There's a great deal of valid analysis to be made here and it's predicated on the notion that this 'opposing' force, Jacob's equal, if you will, is, in fact, the smoke monster (or indeed, that the smoke monster is a manifestation, a form, of this man). To begin, the 'white/black' parallel is implicit in both the dialogue and the clothing of the pair in 'The Incident's opening scene, which obviously ties to Smokey's favourite colour. Then there is the mural on the wall of the Temple in 'Dead is Dead', which clearly shows an Egyptian figure, identical to the statue (you know, the one that Jacob lives in), making some form of pact with a creature that looks rather like the monster. This suggests that the two have a symbiotic relationship, and it certainly isn't a stretch to believe that it is based on being bound to an agreement to 'look after' the Island, to be its caretakers. And finally, we have Smokey's penchant for creating manifestations of the dead, from Emi, Eko's brother, to, more recently, Alex, Ben's daughter. Within the confines of the show's mythology, it would therefore be entirely possible for him to manifest as Locke, now that he is deceased. It certainly all seems to tie together, with only the exact specifics of the 'loop-hole' that allow for Jacob's death remaining somewhat oblique. One possible interpretation of this is that, because only the 'leader' can see him, it could only ever be this person who could potentially kill him. Obviously, John is not the leader of the Others at this point because he is dead; therefore, the title falls on the last person to occupy the position... Ben. The moment between Linus and his much-revered superior is exquisitely executed. The juxtaposition of Ben's pent-up rage and hate and Jacob's calmness and serenity really intensifies the tension in the scene, and the fact that Pellegrino offers him a choice only makes things all the more poignant. This is top class stuff, providing the perfect marriage between satisfying revelation and tantalising mystery, and setting up an even more grandiose 'battle for the Island' in the sixth season than perhaps we were expecting.
The final part of 'The Incident' is the kind of edge-of-your-seat television that leaves you reeling for hours, days and, most certainly in Lost's case, months on end. The realisation of the finale's two-handed dramatic apex is absolutely superb on both fronts: the 1977 strand is loaded with excitement and emotion, while the contemporary plot draws together some of the show's key elements, hinting at, if not entirely delivering, answers that we've been craving for a very long time. It certainly looks like we are setting up for one hell of a battle in the show's final year, and it is very rewarding to feel like the pieces are finally beginning to slot into place. While the cliffhanger will have you screaming insanely at your television set for about three quarters of an hour, that just demonstrates that Lindelof and Cuse have achieved exactly what they set out to. After watching this, there's no way in hell you're going to miss season six. Roll on January. 9.6
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