Thursday 25 February 2010

Television review: Lost #605: 'Lighthouse'

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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