605:  'Lighthouse'
 Wr: Carlton Cuse & Damon Lindelof
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: Hurley must convince Jack to accompany him on a mission, and Jin comes across an old acquaintance.
Review: 'Lighthouse' is  something of a curious beast. On the one hand, Lindelof and Cuse's script  has the same qualities as last week's stupendous 'The Substitute',  maintaining  steady momentum through the interweaving of intriguingly  oblique and dramatically engaging narrative strands, However, on the other, it  seems to falter occasionally, testing the viewer's patience somewhat by  resorting to a number of tried, tested and rather transparent tricks that serve  only to prolong the inevitable, to stall the progression of the arc plot. After  six years, we've become rather accustomed to the producers' admittedly salient  methods and in the absence of something especially unique, it becomes easy to  drift and to feel frustrated with the inherent nature of what we're  given.
 
 The worst offender,  it seems, is the flash sideways. Now, I will profess to being slightly biased  against Mr. Shephard's stories, given that he's one of the least interesting  characters on the show (I know, I know, scream "blasphemer!" all you like, but  come on... he's no Locke is he?!), but even Matthew Fox has had his moments of  brilliance. Sadly, 'Lighthouse's B-story isn't one of them; giving the guy a son  is a very nice idea, and there are some hints at a more intriguing slant to the  purpose of these strands (Jack doesn't remember having his appendix removed,  despite it happening when he was seven, which seems to suggest a possible  'course correction' or change in history that he is not completely disassociated  from), but unfortunately, very little is done with the story that is actually of  much interest. The teleology is decidedly predictable - it's patently obvious  from the moment that Jack's son starts ignoring him that a moral lesson will be  learned by both parties within the course of the hour and that they'll  reconcile, which robs the narrative of its lustre, making the  denouement a foregone conclusion and exposing the transparency of the  plot structure. It's also rather indicative of the 'neat and tidy' approach to  storytelling in conventional television drama, wherein it is perceived that  equilibrium must be restored within one sitting in order for the viewing  audience to feel some sense of satisfaction. Lost is not normally  guilty of this as consequence is a significant feature of the ongoing story, but  here it feels too compact, tied into a neat little bow simply because there was  a requirement to pad out the script. Admittedly, there are some well-executed  moments within the strand, most notable of which is Jack's desperate attempt to  find David, coming across his voicemail message while in the boy's room, but  they are insufficient to make the whole thing truly memorable or  engaging.
 The problems are  less significant on-Island but nevertheless, occasional lapses remain. The issue  centres mostly on Hurley and Jack's sojourn to the lighthouse which is prolonged  substantially through the episode's mid-section. At the end of the first act, it  becomes clear that they are heading somewhere, but the destination is not  reached until part-way through the third. This is not objectionable in itself  but the interim sequences do not contain enough weight to distract the viewer  from the fact that the plot is being stretched out over an unnecessarily  lengthy period. The 'journey' scenes even seem to highlight the fact that they  are somewhat extraneous: Lindelof and Cuse give Hurley dialogue along the lines  of "this feels like the old days, you and me heading somewhere that we don't  know for a reason we don't understand" which, instead of seeming like a  pleasingly self-referential nod to the audience, actually just exposes its  immaterial nature. There are further attempts at this sort of metatextual  self-reflexivity: when Jack asks why they haven't seen the lighthouse before,  Hurley responds that 'we weren't looking for it', which feels like a rather  convenient excuse. Hurley also suggests that the skeletons in the caves that the  Losties lived in during season one could be them, having travelled back in time  and remained stuck there. This is a theory suggested by many within the fan  community and, intriguingly, it isn't quashed here, but the inclusion does not  feel at all organic. This reads like the grafted on wink to fandom that it is,  coming completely out of nowhere and seeming rather superfluous to the story.  It's there for its own sake, essentially, and sadly, comes across awkwardly.  Coupled with the rather underwhelming flash sideways, these moments make the  narrative feel like it's treading water during the middle of the episode,  exposing them as little more than filler.
 Conversely, however,  everything that surrounds this is distinctly strong. The juxtaposing of Hurley's  visitations from Jacob, and his subsequent realisation of his mission, with  Jin's unfortunate encounter with Claire is a superlative piece of scripting that  generates sufficient dramatic tension and beguiling mystery to ensure that the  viewer remains firmly on the edge of his or her seat, scratching their heads in  delectable bemusement. Once again, a substantial number of questions are  generated, but hints at answers to others are incorporated too, to avoid a  feeling of frustration. The sequences in the lighthouse are particularly  indicative of this, as the structure itself is unusual enough to keep forums  buzzing for a good week or two with discussions about the names on the gigantic  compass and, more importantly, the 'mirror' that seems to allow the spectator,  at the very least, to view the life of the individual denoted by a certain  bearing (once again, the numbers afforded our Losties seem to correspond to  Hurley's numbers, suggesting further significance, and 108 is Jacob's suggested  bearing, which is both the sum of these numbers and the number of minutes  between button-pressing in the fabled old hatch). It's entirely possible, of  course, that this is far more than simply a lens and that it somehow provides a  basis for Jacob's ability to appear off-Island, transporting him to the  destination in question. For all its apparent science-fiction tendencies, it's a  wonderful conceit and one that is superbly executed by the production  department, the design of the device exhibiting a sort of archaic, confounding  aesthetic that just makes you yearn to know more. We may never get the answers  we seek, however, since Jack essentially has a big paddy, taking out his pent-up  frustration on the thing, but this is an excellent moment in itself, perfectly  in line with his character and symptomatic of the importance of his apparent  journey for the remainder of the season. For all it appears, on a superficial  level at least, that Jacob's reasoning for 'pushing' Jack rather than simply  giving him all the facts, is rather flimsy, the sort of pseudo-psychoanalytic  mumbo jumbo that typically attempts to excuse a slowness of pacing, it is  nevertheless perfectly in sync with the character, since his reluctance to  accept the fantastical (or rather, the machinations of 'destiny') necessitates a  learning curve. Hurley, on the other hand, has always been receptive to that  which he cannot explain, which helps to justify Jacob's straightforward approach  throughout their relationship. Still, his duplicitousness does shine through  when he reveals his ulterior motive for sending Hurley and Jack away, which  potentially suggests that they are the preferred of his candidates or that he  simply cannot afford to 'lose' them to Smokie. It's a rather callous move, given  that it effectively 'writes off' Sayid and potentially Kate, Jin and Sawyer, and  as such, helps to further complicate the apparent 'good/evil' binary between the  two benevolent characters.
 Meanwhile, over in  the Monster's camp, Jin finds himself playing house with a somewhat affected  Claire, whose three years in the wilderness have essentially turned her into the  new Rousseau. Emilie de Ravin is excellent here, perfecting the character's  transformation through a subtle manipulation of vocal delivery and body  language, aided admirably by the costume and production department's combined  efforts to make her look decidedly feral. There are some superbly disturbing  touches to the mise en scene: the skeleton in the cradle, the presence  of all sorts of weird and wondrous instruments in her little 'hovel' (needles,  axes, you name it) that all work to make the sequences truly unnerving. By the  time she's threatening the poor Other with the axe, she's so far removed from  the tenants of her prior character that it's almost as if she's a new person  altogether and one that we should most definitely fear. The addition of Smokey  Locke to proceedings only intensifies matters, suggesting that he has  manipulated Claire sufficiently with his influence to transform her into this  paranoid, aggressive individual and this demonstrates a great deal of potential  for the furtherance of the storyline; potentially, Locke and kooky Claire  together will make for a formidable, and distinctly frightening, team. Perhaps  the most engaging aspect of this whole narrative is its unpredictability and the  highly effective manner through which, by the subtle manipulation of dialogue  and representation, Cuse and Lindelof are able to construct an undercurrent of  decidedly macabre apprehension.
  'Lighthouse' is a  difficult episode to assess. There are a great deal of enjoyable aspects to the  narrative, particularly where the furtherance of the Jacob/Smokey dynamic is  concerned, as once more, we are presented with several beguiling narrative  strands (the nature of the lighthouse, Claire's transformation) that keep the  viewer guessing and maintain a prominent level of suspense. Unfortunately, the  episode seems to dip somewhat in its mid-section due to the noticeable padding  of the plot, particularly when Hurley and Jack are walking to their destination,  which, when coupled with the rather disappointing flash sideways, makes for a  distracting and less engaging experience. Essentially, a third of the hour is a  little sub-par, while the other two thirds contain just about enough that is  good or excellent to keep things afloat. A tough call then. Let's go with an... 8.0
 
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