606: 'Sundown'
Wr: Graham Roland & Paul Zbyszewski
Dr: Bobby Roth
Synopsis: Sayid faces a difficult decision, and Claire sends a warning to the temple inhabitants.
Review: It seems that there is a general consensus among many Lostaholics that, so far, the show's sixth and final season is not quite living up to expectations. Forums are abuzz with the notion that something is just 'not quite right', but no one can put their finger on what exactly is missing. Perhaps it's the weight of responsibility that executive producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse have given themselves; this being the last gasp, so to speak, we've been promised answers to the substantial volume of questions that have arisen in seasons past, but the first six episodes only really hint at solutions, dripfeeding us all with inferences and, frustratingly, further conundrums. Maybe the time for dicking around is over, and now that we've reached the final stretch, the viewing public need, nay demand, more. But this isn't the only potential explanation. There's another significant feature of the final year that may be the cause of some dissatisfaction: the oblique sideways flashes. It isn't the mind-boggling nature of these that's the problem, though (if anything, the question of what role they play in relation to the show's chronology is actually what makes them worth watching). It's their inherent similarity to what we've seen before. As a friend of mine suggested recently, we've been a bit spoiled with the 'non-linear' strands in the past two seasons: year four had intriguing flash-forwards that required you to piece together the timeline, while year five was just plain barmy, incorproating flashbacks, forwards, through time and all sorts. To go back to the sort of standard stories we were used to in the first three seasons seems almost like a bit of a let down. Of course, things aren't so black and white, since we're beginning to pick up subtle, and rather less than subtle, differences between the lives of the Losties pre-815 crash and post-LA landing, and this gives the narratives some intrigue, but at the end of the day, the majority of the emotional and metaphorical beats, the essence of the stories, are concerned with aspects of the characters that we've explored substantially before: Kate's penchant for running away, Locke refusing to accept his situation, Jack's daddy issues. These feel outmoded, so perhaps it's a case of overt familiarity.
Fortunately, however, this latest episode manages to circumnavigate the problem by only moderately touching on the standard psychological ennui of its chosen flash-sidewaysee. Sayid's struggle with the demons of his past, his attempt to make amends for his role under the Republican Guard, takes something of a back-seat to the establishment of the quite significant differences inherent in this version of events, as well as the interweaving of the lives of the other Oceanic 815 passengers. For all the story explores his willingness to retaliate against those who threaten, and subsequently assault, his brother, more time is spent establishing the changes to his relationship with Nadia (who has somehow ended up with his bro), integrating the dastardly Keimi, who Jarrah murders in a wonderfully intense sequence, dripping with beautifully understated malice, and establishing a connection with Jin at the close of the narrative, which comes completely out of nowhere and generates a considerable number of questions that are guaranteed to have us tuning in for the next instalment. Thankfully, we don't spend too long deliberating over the moral implications of Sayid's willingness to use violence; he simply makes a decision and gets down to business, which prevents the strand from meandering or appearing overly verbose.
It also provides a delectable thematic connection to the on-Island narrative, as the viewer is able to draw quite potent parallels between the two versions of the character. Sayid's actions in 2007 are similarly 'straightforward', if you will, demonstrating little patience with the concept of pontification. Faced with differing perspectives on events, with a similar question of violence versus pacifism, Jarrah chooses the former, murdering both Dogan and Lennon in cold blood, in a sequence that is in direct syntagmatic relation to the slaying of his brother's assailants. It reinforces the inherent complexity of his character, but also creates an interesting dichotomy between understandable violence and unwarranted brutality. While it is up to the viewer to determine whether these measures are ever called for, it is certainly easier to rationalise Sayid's actions in the flash sideways, which is perhaps symptomatic of the question mark that currently hangs, ominously, over the 2007 character's head. Is this the 'real' Sayid, the guy we've come to know and love for the last six seasons? Or is this someone different altogether, tainted and reshaped by Smokie; 'diseased', if you will? Is 'the sickness' something tangible that UnLocke does to people or is it simply how the Others refer to those who have communicated with him and perhaps been mentally influenced by his words? These questions make this entire storyline wonderfully captivating and provide Naveen Andrews with an opportunity to outshine pretty much everyone in the cast; a task to which he rises with great aplomb.
From a storytelling perspective, it works beautifully too. The script maintains a prominent level of ambiguity throughout, refusing to allow the viewer to be certain as to the motives of the parties involved. In the aftermath of his absolutely stellar fight sequence with Jarrah (which is probably the best of its kind that has ever been presented on the show, choreographed to perfection), we are never quite certain as to what Dogen's aims are, particularly as the accidental 'dropping' of the baseball has clear emotional and psychological significance, apparently prompting a sincere change of heart. Of course, we subsequently realise that he is merely deferring responsibility for Sayid's murder, in a two-header sequence bristling with suspense. O'Quinn and Andrews are absolutely magnificent together, achieving so much with so little. Sayid's own actions are unpredictable too, and it's almost a given at this point that we will be treated to both sides of the coin, so to speak, in relation to any decisions made by UnLocke. This notable lack of transparency enriches the narrative, preventing any obvious inferences and therefore generating significant momentum. The plot moves along at a breakneck, decidedly anxious, pace, despite essentially consisting of a series of minor confrontations and deliberations. And when sundown approaches, and the pay-off is delivered, the script hits home run after home run, providing superlative shock value in Dogen and Lennon's murders, some delightfully frightening sequences as Smokie lays waste to the Temple and its inhabitants (all of which are expertly shot) and a superb final scene, underscored to great effect by 'Catch A Falling Star', in which Kate surveys the wreckage and watches UnLocke gather his troops.
There are many other noteworthy elements within 'Sundown' too. Emile de Ravan continues to make the most of her new-found role as Clairsseau (nope, I can't take credit for that one... see the official Lost audio podcast from a few weeks ago for the reference), creating a thoroughly convincing and decidedly unnerving portrayal of a girl driven to the outskirts of madness by time, loss, isolation and influence. She's great as she strides into the Temple, squaring up to Dogan, and even better in her scenes with Kate in the hole in the ground, delivering each laconic line of dialogue with an eerie assuredness and calm. For all it is a little convenient, the arrival of Sun, Ben, Frank and Ilyana is a much welcome surprise, especially since it seems to herald the connection of a few dots pertaining to the Losties who were previously in 1977; it's good to see Cindy back in play and given a few interesting lines of dialogue (hopefully we'll get to see how she integrated herself into the Others' camp in the weeks to come); there's the interesting suggestion that Dogan is somehow responsible for keeping Dogan out, simply by his very existence; and, of course, Jack's screentime is confined to a brief, dialogue-less cameo in the flash sideways. Marvellous.
If Lost is 'suffering' a little in its sixth season, not seeming quite like its former self, then you certainly wouldn't know it from watching 'Sundown'. This is an absolutely stellar episode, packed to the brim with intrigue, suspense, action and drama, that pays off a number of loose narrative strands, propels the arc plot forward substantially and even provides an engaging, thought-provoking flash sideways to boot. Naveen Andrews is given the opportunity to shine and boy, does he, providing wonderfully understated portrayals of the myriad sides of Sayid's character to which we are treated, all the while keeping the viewer guessing as to what his next move may be. There are a number of genuine shocks in the plot and the production is absolutely flawness, the crew rising admirably to the substantial demands of the script, delivering a brilliantly brutal fight sequence in the teaser and another wonderfully frightening Smoke Monster Attack(TM) in the final act. Honestly, what isn't there to love about 'Sundown'? The fact that it has to come to an end, that's what. 9.5
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