607: 'Dr. Linus'
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Mario Van Peebles
Synopsis: Ben deals with the consequences of an uncovered lie.
Review: Benjamin 'Henry Gale' Linus has consistently proven to be one of the most interesting characters that Lost has on its decidedly lengthy roster. Ever since he made his grand entrance mid-season two, falling out of a balloon and into the Hatch-obsessed lives of our favourite castaways, he's baffled, beguiled, intrigued, frustrated and downright mesmerised every last one of us, roping us in to a tragic story of misspent, underappreciated youth and desperately power-hungry adulthood. Michael Emerson has truly made the character his own, to the extent that it's hard to conceive of the show without him, despite the fact that we spent an entire year and a half unaware of his existence. And it's a further testament to the strength of his ability as an actor that he manages to generate ambiguity with every line, ambivalent emotions with every nuance. After almost four seasons, we still approach his character apprehensively, refusing to trust his assertions and uncertain of his motives, even with the most insignificant of decisions. This rich tapestry is what makes the guy so much fun, and it's why, when the news was released that hour seven of this final season would be titled 'Dr. Linus', fanboys, casual viewers and pervy-Other-fanciers alike jumped for joy, rejoicing in the possibility of something truly captivating.
And to be fair, that's pretty much what we get. Kitsis and Horowitz's script is a distinctly well-structured piece, counterpointing a notably unusual 'flash sideways' with a character-building on-Island narrative that allows the viewer to appreciate the depth and complexity inherent in Ben's methodical, but substantitive, transformation. This juxtaposition proves to be somewhat enlightening, allowing us to see that really, deep down, good ol' Linus does have a moral centre, a functioning heart. The story first illustrates this through the minutiae of the 'what if...?' scenario, wherein Ben has wound up teaching AP History at a local school. Dressed in conventional faculty garb and organising an after-hours club for truly enthusiastic students, this Benjamin Linus appears to be the antithesis of the man we've come to know and sorta love, lacking the spinelessness and tenacity demonstrated by the so-called leader of the Others. The principal cuts him down when he tries to defend his club, and he appears defeated, resorting to making underhanded comments once the guy's walked away ("it's Dr. Linus!") and moaning to his aging father, who actually seems to be remotely interested in what his son has to say, unlike the man whose life was essentially torn apart by the DHARMA Initiative. It's a somewhat intriguing development this, since the dialogue indicates that the pair did go there, all those years ago, but that they left; a decision that hints at an altogether different reason for the deviationin the outcome of events to the idea that Juliet simply succeeded in detonating the bomb. Still, as is perhaps to be expected, it doesn't take long for Ben's cunning to make an appearance and, significantly, as the suggestion of a coup is planted in his head by one John 'No, I'm Not Smokey' Locke, the cogs begin to turn, plans begin to be drawn and soon enough, Linus is relishing every last morsel of gossip that Alex, his young protege, can throw at him. While this plot can occasionally seem a little superfluous, lacking somewhat in the riproaring stakes, it is, nevertheless, perfectly in tune with the character, befitting of his established proclivities. It is also one of the more thematically interesting of the 'flash sideways' to date, precisely because its beats generally aren't ones that we've procrastinated over substantially before. Whereas we spent an entire three years (and probably more) focusing on the psychological ennui of the core Losties, we've never really explored Ben's 'issues' in any significant detail, having only been subjected to three Linus-centric episodes in the show's history, only one of which was a flashback (season three's tremendous 'The Man Behind the Curtain'). Consequently, a concentration on his obsession with power is far more intriguing than an exploration of Kate's penchant for running away or Jack's daddy issues.
The ultimate conclusion of the narrative - that Linus really isn't such a bad ol' chap after all, and that when faced with a sticky moral decision, he may just come down on the side of good - is a particularly satisfying one. The pay-off works distinctly well in the flash-sideways as the outcome is never particularly obvious; there are no signposts to indicate that he will ultimately choose to ease the pressure on the principal. Granted, he goes ahead with his blackmailing attempt, craving the desk for his own, and it is only when the man makes a counter-threat of his own that he begins to back down, but it's the nature of the threat that matters most. The principal strikes at Linus's compassion for his protege, at his desire to see those that have a gift for his subject actually succeed. And of course, the fact that this individual happens to be Alex Rousseau only adds a greater level of potency to events. On Island, Alex was his adopted child; off, well, who knows exactly what her situation is? Intriguingly, we're left with very little information in this regard, which is perhaps a good sign for a future episode. It's certainly pleasing to see the actress back after such a substantial absence, and while it does seem a bit of a stretch that she just so happens to effectively be on Linus's doorstep, it's highly likely that there's more going on here; that somehow, the DHARMA Initiative/Island connection may still play a role in aligning the lives of the characters. Importantly, she is the thread connecting this story to on-Island Ben's narrative, as it becomes evident, from the epiphianic conversation that he has with Illyana, that the execution of his daughter has been the driving force for his transformation. It still cuts right to the heart of his being, still traumatises after all these years. Emerson is unequivocally brilliant in this scene, perfectly pitching the character's emotions to provide the most potent level of resonance, making his confession that "no one will have [him]" truly heartbreaking. In a hugely significant moment, Ben actually turns his back on UnLocke, reinforcing his loyalty to Jacob (and through him, the Island), despite Smokey issuing him probably the most attractive offer he could hope to receive: leadership of the Island. Given his penchant for power, that's no small feat, but it doesn't seem an unusual decision. Instead, this reads as the logical conclusion of a journey that began many seasons ago, providing a wonderfully satisfying 'fist in the air' moment: Ben actually did the right thing for once! Get. The f**k. In. Of course, whether anyone will truly appreciate it is another matter altogether; for all Illyana stops shackling him and forcing him to dig his own grave (morbid, much?), and the jibes from the others cease (Sun lets him help!), when Jack and Hurley are reunited with their long-lost pals in a scene out of season one, complete with moderately cheesy piano underscore and slow motion camera movements, he's still on the periphery, forced to look in as everyone else experiences serendippity and euphoria. He's still, essentially, an outcast... but perhaps that will change, with time.
The episode's other major talking point is the all-too-brief sequence of scenes between Jack, Hurley and the ever-beguiling Richard. Finally, we get some idea as to the character's history, establishing that his perpetual youth was a 'gift' from Jacob, and that, as with Dogan and probably countless others, the man was instructed to abandon his life in order to come to the Island... a decision for which he would ultimately be rewarded, but that sadly, Jacob never got round to bothering to tell him. Yet again, we have a character whose loyalties are being tested, who is beginning to question the motivations and machinations of an individual who is supposed to be a force for good, which only serves to strengthen the complexity of the narrative. It's a somewhat interesting decision to have Jack direct Richard back onto his path, to restore at least a portion of his faith, in a scene that says a great deal about the purpose of the fatal crash of Flight 815. As the dynamite is unable to detonate, we are once again reminded that these characters are on-Island for a very distinct reason, that they've essentially been directed there, which ties back to the cameo appearances that Jacob made in their earlier lives in the season five finale. Granted, the 'dynamite detonation' sequence lacks a certain level of dramatic tension because Jack's life is never in any actual danger (come on... are you telling me that Matthew Fox is going to snuff it at this stage of the game? Please! Season finale at the earliest!), but this still remains a distinctly intriguing sequence; about as intriguing, it should be said, as the idea that Jacob was 'the closest thing that [Illyana] had to a father' or that Widmore has finally managed to locate the Island. This would undoubtedly have been a killer cliffhanger, the sort that leaves you desperate for more, if the production crew hadn't decided to include Alan Dale's name in the opening credits, thereby spoiling the fact that he makes an appearance for any viewers who are aware as to which role he plays, causing us to spend the majority of 'Dr. Linus' anticipating his arrival. When he hadn't shown up by the forty minute mark, it kinda became obvious where he was going to make an appearance. Oh Lost, when will you learn? (Probably at the same time that the writers cotton on to the fact that Sun's only line of dialogue is "have you seen my husband?"... and thanks to the guy who writes the TV.com Lost reviews for that one.)
'Dr. Linus' is another strong episode from a show that continues to impress, even at this very late stage in the game. For arguably the first time since 'LA X', the content of the 'flash sideways' never feels underwhelming, and this is largely thanks to its concentration on a character with whom we have spent very little time in seasons past. Ben Linus is arguably one of the most fascinating creatures that Lost has ever thrown our way, and Michael Emerson could well be the most talented shark in the show's quite considerable acting pool. Once again, he rises to every challenge with the most delectable of aplomb, and pulls off a multi-layered and highly effective performance that perfectly delineates the journey that the character has undertaken since those fatal moments in 'The Shape of Things To Come'. There's an intriguing B-storyline that edges things forward for Jack, Hurley and Richard, and for all the cliffhanger is ruined by a poor production decision, it nevertheless remains solid enough to make us yearn for more. This may not reach the lofty heights of 'Sundown' and 'The Substitute', but it's damn impressive all the same. Keep it coming, Lost. Don't do a 'Tricia Tanaka' on us now. 9.0
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