603: 'What Kate Does'
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Paul A. Edwards
Synopsis: Kate finds herself on the run, while Jack is tasked with something that could put a friend's life at risk.
Review: So Lost, pray tell us, what does Kate do, exactly? Well, according to this fine instalment of the world's greatest televisual experience, young Ms Austen hijacks taxis, runs roughshod over the luggage of poor struggling doctors (Artz is back, ladies and gentlemen! You've been pining for him for years, haven't you?!), steals the handbags of pregnant youngsters and subsequently feels horribly guilty about it all. Well, maybe that's a bit of a stretch. She feels guilty about anything to do with the koochie-coo, cute-as-buttons wickle baby thing growing inside Emilie De Ravan. Couldn't care less about the other havoc she's wreaked. But of course, this is off-Island, flash-sideways Kate. The Kate for whom flight 815 did come hurtling down into the ocean is a little more empathetic, finding herself caring for the well-being of an understandably distraught Sawyer, while also desperate to find the aforementioned Claire in order to reunite her with Aaron.
It's an interesting dichotomy this and one that looks likely to set the trend for the remainder of the season. As predicted, Horowitz and Kitsis continue with the structure established in 'LA X (parts one and two)', juxtaposing a timeline in which 815 didn't crash with one in which Jack and his fellow Losties were unsuccessful in their attempts to change history. Few hints are given as to how these two will ultimately reconcile, preferring instead to present the duality as is and allow the viewer to draw his or her own conclusions. However, as a result, it allows us to acquire some intriguing insights into the show's central characters, to contrast their personalities and neuroses in differing sets of circumstances, drawing parallels and establishing how their problems are resolved, if it all. It's somewhat fitting that Kate's penchant to run grinds to a halt as a result of realising exactly what she was stealing from Claire; in the show's chronological timeline, it is effectively the protection of baby Aaron that allows her to finally settle. There are some well-played scenes between Lilly and Ravan, particularly in the hospital, as apprehension gives way to affection and genuine emotion shines through from both parties. The story does occasionally feel a little capricious, as its teleology becomes rather predictable from the moment that the pregnancy is revealed, and the fact that Claire's water breaks just as the prospective recipient of her child turns her back on her is more than a little convenient. Still, on the whole, this is an enjoyable retread through the damaged psyches of both characters (Kate and Claire), which reminds us of just how far they've both come.
The on-Island narrative is even better. Again, there are certain less desirable elements - Kate's sudden re-interest in Claire's well-being feels a little too well timed in terms of the narrative's inherent motifs, especially given that Sawyer's having an emotional breakdown right in front of her eyes, and those Others that transport she and Jin could do with a little more subtlety in their portrayals - but overall, Kate's storyline here is solid. Her concern for James is touching and the sequence in which he breaks down in front of her at the pier is heartwrenching. Lilly is excellent, but Holloway is astounding, never veering too far towards mawkish and selling every last ounce of emotion with the gravitas and crushing weight that it deserves. As per, Lost is stupendous at representing consequence. There are no quick fixes here; Sawyer does not cry for a bit and then forget about Juliet completely. The trauma is built into the narratives and it works wonders. Hopefully, this will continue in the weeks to come.
Putting aside Kate's story, there is a nice B-strand involving Jack and Sayid to address too. For the umpteenth time, the writers give little away, still refusing to explain exactly how our favourite torturer is in this condition, but what they do reveal proves somewhat fascinating. Sayid has been 'claimed', you say? Would that, perchance, be by Smokie? The guy 'dressed' as Locke? It certainly seems like the Natives aren't particularly fond of the guy, especially after hearing the news of Jacob's departure last week, and the concept is one that has arisen within the arc plot before: remember Rousseau's men? They were exposed to the monster/elements within the Temple and subsequently turned batshit crazy. It would therefore make logical sense that this is what these Others are referring to. Of course, whether or not Sayid is ill is another matter entirely, and one that certainly harbours much promise for forthcoming episodes.
While 'What Kate Does' does not scale the lofty heights of 'LA X', it is certainly an enjoyable, well-written episode. Kate's on and off-Island narratives work well in conjunction with one another, providing a neat assessment of the psychological ennui that torment the character, and Evangeline Lilly rises to the challenge, almost but not quite matching Josh Holloway in their beautiful scene at the dock. It's a bit of a shame that the episode relegates the mythology to C-storyline status and it perhaps could've done with an injection of Locke and Ben, but generally, this is another strong slice of television from a production crew at the very top of their game. 8.2
Showing posts with label Lost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lost. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Overview: Lost season five
Here it is, the statistical breakdown of my ratings of all the episodes of Lost's fifth season. Marvel.
501: 'Because You Left': 9.5
502: 'The Lie': 9.0
503: 'Jughead': 9.3
504: 'The Little Prince': 8.8
505: 'This Place Is Death': 9.1
506: '316': 9.2
507: 'The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham': 9.3
508: 'LeFleur': 9.4
509: 'Namaste': 9.1
510: 'He's Our You': 8.3
511: 'Whatever Happened, Happened': 8.6
512: 'Dead Is Dead': 9.5
513: 'Some Like It Hoth': 8.0
514: 'The Variable': 9.4
515: 'Follow The Leader': 9.0
516: 'The Incident, part one': 9.4
517: 'The Incident, part two': 9.6
Season average: 9.1
Top 5 episodes
1. 'The Incident, part two' (9.6)
2. 'Dead Is Dead' (9.5)
3. 'Because You Left' (9.5)
4. 'LeFleur' (9.4)
5. 'The Variable' (9.4)
It's worth noting that only four episodes out of the total seventeen scored less than a 9.
Worst episode
513: 'Some Like It Hoth' (8.0)
501: 'Because You Left': 9.5
502: 'The Lie': 9.0
503: 'Jughead': 9.3
504: 'The Little Prince': 8.8
505: 'This Place Is Death': 9.1
506: '316': 9.2
507: 'The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham': 9.3
508: 'LeFleur': 9.4
509: 'Namaste': 9.1
510: 'He's Our You': 8.3
511: 'Whatever Happened, Happened': 8.6
512: 'Dead Is Dead': 9.5
513: 'Some Like It Hoth': 8.0
514: 'The Variable': 9.4
515: 'Follow The Leader': 9.0
516: 'The Incident, part one': 9.4
517: 'The Incident, part two': 9.6
Season average: 9.1
Top 5 episodes
1. 'The Incident, part two' (9.6)
2. 'Dead Is Dead' (9.5)
3. 'Because You Left' (9.5)
4. 'LeFleur' (9.4)
5. 'The Variable' (9.4)
It's worth noting that only four episodes out of the total seventeen scored less than a 9.
Worst episode
513: 'Some Like It Hoth' (8.0)
Thursday, 14 May 2009
Review: Lost season five finale (#516/#517: 'The Incident, parts one and two')
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
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
Thursday, 30 April 2009
Review: Lost #514 ('The Variable')
514: 'The Variable'
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Paul A. Edwards
Synopsis: On the 100th episode milestone for the series, the time of reckoning has begun when Daniel Faraday comes clean regarding what he knows about the island.
Review: For its 100th hour, Lost treats us to the life and times of Daniel Farraday, one of the most complex and intriguing figures on the show. 'The Variable' has been a long time coming, since we've been missing the crazy time-travel-obsessed fruitloop for a good six episodes now, but thankfully, it's worth the wait. This is effectively the sister episode to season four's fantastic 'The Constant', with Daniel the counterpoint to Desmond (hell, there's even a relation exposed midway through the episode) and while it doesn't quite reach the lofty heights of that one, it's only really because we've become so familiar with time travel as a concept, and the fashion in which it works in Lost, by this point that it's no longer an intriguingly original technique. Back in year four, Des's time-hopping beguiled and fascinated; here, ther narrative's similar predilections are almost passé. Still, that doesn't stop this from being a quality hour of television. There's a prominent feeling of impending doom running throughout the hour as things begin to unravel... and when all hell does break loose, it's gripping, as first Dan and co. are forced to take up arms and then Radzinsky exposes LeFluer's deception. God knows how they're all going to get out of this one.
Off Island, the dual juxtaposing of Desmond's current condition with an exploration of Eloise and Daniel's turbulent history is an interesting one, particularly as it exposes the somewhat callous nature of Dan's mother herself. It's also immensely satisfying to see Alan Dale caught up in the mix - the revelation that he is Farraday's father isn't particularly unexpected but it is rather satisfying nonetheless and the scene between the two is beautifully and delicately handled. Of course, all of this begs the question of Dan's birth and why, exactly, Eloise left the Island but given the cyclicality implied at hour's end, it could merely be that, paradoxically, she knows she has to. I must confess, I did become a little concerned when Farraday began telling Dr. Chang the truth, and started spouting off about 'variables' and the possibility if changing the future, but thankfully, it appears the writers have remained faithful to their original principles by sticking to the 'what happened, happened' adage. In fact, the episode goes one better, as it makes the entire time travel concept come full circle, creating a paradox wherein Eloise meets her son before he is even born and is thus made aware of the unalterable nature of his 'path', his 'destiny'. This event will surely become the catalyst for her own dalliances in relativistic physics, completing the cycle. How apt, too, that she mistakenly murders the only hope of change, thereby sentencing everyone to the current timeline and sealing their fates. Poignant. But Daniel... poor Daniel! It's certainly sad to see him go (I'm going to assume that with such a fatal looking wound and the diegsis of the episode, he has snuffed it) but a decision to be commended nonetheless. Unquestionably, this is a fantastic episode on the whole that illustrates still further the intelligence and skill of the writing staff, proving yet again that they are in complete control of their vehicles. I defy anyone to watch this and imply that they're just 'making it up as they go along'. Top class. 9.4
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Paul A. Edwards
Synopsis: On the 100th episode milestone for the series, the time of reckoning has begun when Daniel Faraday comes clean regarding what he knows about the island.
Review: For its 100th hour, Lost treats us to the life and times of Daniel Farraday, one of the most complex and intriguing figures on the show. 'The Variable' has been a long time coming, since we've been missing the crazy time-travel-obsessed fruitloop for a good six episodes now, but thankfully, it's worth the wait. This is effectively the sister episode to season four's fantastic 'The Constant', with Daniel the counterpoint to Desmond (hell, there's even a relation exposed midway through the episode) and while it doesn't quite reach the lofty heights of that one, it's only really because we've become so familiar with time travel as a concept, and the fashion in which it works in Lost, by this point that it's no longer an intriguingly original technique. Back in year four, Des's time-hopping beguiled and fascinated; here, ther narrative's similar predilections are almost passé. Still, that doesn't stop this from being a quality hour of television. There's a prominent feeling of impending doom running throughout the hour as things begin to unravel... and when all hell does break loose, it's gripping, as first Dan and co. are forced to take up arms and then Radzinsky exposes LeFluer's deception. God knows how they're all going to get out of this one.
Off Island, the dual juxtaposing of Desmond's current condition with an exploration of Eloise and Daniel's turbulent history is an interesting one, particularly as it exposes the somewhat callous nature of Dan's mother herself. It's also immensely satisfying to see Alan Dale caught up in the mix - the revelation that he is Farraday's father isn't particularly unexpected but it is rather satisfying nonetheless and the scene between the two is beautifully and delicately handled. Of course, all of this begs the question of Dan's birth and why, exactly, Eloise left the Island but given the cyclicality implied at hour's end, it could merely be that, paradoxically, she knows she has to. I must confess, I did become a little concerned when Farraday began telling Dr. Chang the truth, and started spouting off about 'variables' and the possibility if changing the future, but thankfully, it appears the writers have remained faithful to their original principles by sticking to the 'what happened, happened' adage. In fact, the episode goes one better, as it makes the entire time travel concept come full circle, creating a paradox wherein Eloise meets her son before he is even born and is thus made aware of the unalterable nature of his 'path', his 'destiny'. This event will surely become the catalyst for her own dalliances in relativistic physics, completing the cycle. How apt, too, that she mistakenly murders the only hope of change, thereby sentencing everyone to the current timeline and sealing their fates. Poignant. But Daniel... poor Daniel! It's certainly sad to see him go (I'm going to assume that with such a fatal looking wound and the diegsis of the episode, he has snuffed it) but a decision to be commended nonetheless. Unquestionably, this is a fantastic episode on the whole that illustrates still further the intelligence and skill of the writing staff, proving yet again that they are in complete control of their vehicles. I defy anyone to watch this and imply that they're just 'making it up as they go along'. Top class. 9.4
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Review catch-up: Lost
508: 'LeFleur'
Wr: Elizabeth Sarnoff & Kyle Pennington
Dr: Mark Goldman
Synopsis: Sawyer perpetrates a lie to protect the remaining survivors from the mistakes of the past.
Review: The first Sawyer-centric episode since the early hours of season three and it's an absolute beaut. While 'LeFleur' is hardly revelation or action heavy, it still manages to hold its head up with the big boys thanks to Josh Holloway's tour de force in the lead role. He's fantastic here, expertly demonstrating James' transformation from wandering miscreant to cool-headed hub of the DHARMA community and making it all seem entirely logical. The dual 1974-1977 time structure could easily have produced some hamfisted developments in the hands of a lesser crew, but here the viewer buys every change, not the least of which is Sawyer and Juliet's budding romance which seems so obvious now that we begin to question why we never thought about it before. While the ending is hardly a shocker, 'LeFleur' is less about dramatic upturns and more about repositioning, laying the groundwork for Lost's trajectory in the remainder of season five and at that, it succeeds admirably. Oh, and did you all spot the back of the four-toed statue? Looks rather Egyptian to me... 9.4
509: 'Namaste'
Wr: Brian K. Vaughan & Paul Zbyszewski
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: After meeting old acquaintances Sawyer is forced to continue lying to protect them.
Review: Unusually for Lost, 'Namaste' is a centric-less episode. While there have been a smattering in the show's history, it comes as something of a surprise at this stage, given that 'LeFleur' effectively set the show back on its more traditional course in terms of episodic structure. Still, no matter... his is a fun hour, no two ways about it. The integration of Jack, Kate and Hurley into the DHARMA Initiative is marvellously tongue-in-cheek: Sawyer assigning Jack to 'workman' duties certainly gave this reviewer something to smile about for a good week or so. Comeuppance, much? There are some interesting developments to ponder here too: we meet the fabled Radzinsky for the first time, the man who blew his brains out in The Swan when it all got too much and Desmond ended up having to replace him. He's making plans for something... hmm, wonder what it could be?! *nudge, wink* Sawyer and Jin's efforts to contain the situation with poor wandering Sayid are suitably entertaining, and it's obviously a joy to see young Ben from 'The Man Behind The Curtain' again, in what is a role reversal loaded with meaning (it's not so long ago that Sayid was on the other side of a set of metaphorical bars, talking to our favourite Other). Perhaps the most intriguing plot progression, however, occurs in the 'contemporary' storyline: why, exactly, is Sun in 2007 and not with the rest of the Oceanic Six? What is 'Christian Sheppard' (Jacob?) doing wandering around the Smokie-d Barracks? And just how is the thirty year time disparity going to be resolved? Maddening, isn't it? 9.1
510: 'He's Our You'
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Greg Yaitanes
Synopsis: Everyone on the island is at risk when one of the survivors decides to go against them and take matters into their own hands.
Review: There's something slightly lacking in 'He's Our You'; it seems that its substance isn't sufficient to maintain a high level of interest for its duration. During a few of Sayid's fairly contemporary 'flashbacks' with Ilyana, the plot smacks too greatly of events in the guy's last centric episode, season four's superior 'The Economist'. While deja vu may have been what the writers were going for in order to create some cyclical artistic symbolism, it falls a little flat. And it's regrettably predictable, given that we know the man was handcuffed to her from the events of '316'. The better material is to be found in 1977 as Naveen Andrews does a stellar job of representing Sayid's emotional journey and dilemma vis a vis Ben, with the minimum of dialogue. His 'torture' scene is immense fun, his encounters with young Ben drip with ambiguity and that final scene... well, that's an almighty shocker, even if it is glaringly obvious that what we think has happened, hasn't. In essence, Andrews makes this one and elevates it above satisfactory. 8.3
511: 'Whatever Happened, Happened'
Wr: Carlton Cuse & Damon Lindelof
Dr: Bobby Roth
Synopsis: Kate,Sawyer and Juliet try to save Ben. Kate starts to tell the truth about the lie in order to keep Aaron from harm.
Review: I've never been much of a fan of Kate-centric episodes so it's refreshing to note that this one had me suitably engaged and even managed to offer some intriguing points to ponder to boot. As predicted, our favourite bespectacled anti-hero is alive and mildly kicking and his journey into the hands of Alpert and co. is decidedly interesting, particularly when the Others make their presence felt. This talk of Ben 'never being the same' and 'always being one of us' seems to suggest that, in attempting to stop the boy from becoming the monster he knows in the future, Sayid has actually sealed his fate and created the monster. How's that for cyclicality? Thankfully, the writing staff maintain the course they've hinted at since 'Because You Left' regarding the function of time travel on the show, emphasising the importance of the tone set by the episode's title. There's even a little amusingly self-referential dialogue between Hurley and Miles on the issue which, despite being written and shot months ago, perfectly captures the debate currently raging online. Hopefully, it'll iron out any kinks that the misunderstanding folk still have. And Kate's 2007 'flashback'? Entirely unoffensive and logical. Although I could've done without the 'Claire lookalike' that actually looked nothing like her. A solid instalment then, that positions our players for the inevitable unravelling that is to come. 8.6
512: 'Dead Is Dead'
Wr: Elizabeth Sarnoff & Brian K. Vaughan
Dr: Stephen Williams
Synopsis: To atone for sins of the past, Ben must attempt to summon the smoke monster in order to be judged.
Review: It's always the Ben episodes, isn't it? Season three's 'The Man Behind The Curtain' and year four's 'The Shape of Things to Come' are unquestionably series classics, ranking in the top ten episodes ever and now along comes 'Dead Is Dead' to repeat the trick. Hats off to Michael Emerson: he makes this hour what it is, effortlessly veering from conniving, untrustworthy menace to rabbit-in-the-headlights meanderer, from bumbling new Other to repentant, sorrowful 'father' in the blink of an eye, and he engages our sympathies every step of the way (well, except for when he's shooting Desmond and threatening Penelope, that is.) That's no small feat for a mass-murdering sociopath. Credit must also go to Liz Sarnoff and Brian Vaughan for a stellar script that oozes mystery, from its out and out creepy characterisation of Locke as all-knowing Jesus figure, to Widmore's descent from wise leader to banished traitor (how amazing is Alan Dale throughout this, by the way? From "kill it" to "I'll be seeing you, boy" he sends shivers down your spine with every word) to *that* sequence in the Temple with the apparently Egyptian smoke monster. And how about the new Losties, eh? 'What lies in the shadow of the statue'? Pardon me? Mind-boggling stuff and all the more excellent because of it. Oh and what, exactly, is with Smokie's plug? 9.5
513: 'Some Like It Hoth'
Wr: Melinda Hsu & Greggory Nations
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: Suspicions about a possible breach intensify after Ben is taken from the infirmary, and a reluctant Miles is forced to work with Hurley when he's asked to deliver an important package to a top Dharma official.
Review: The weakest episode of the season, but a far cry from the kind of mediocre travesties that plague other contemporary American television serials (Sarah Connor Chronicles, hang your head in shame). No, 'Some Like It Hoth' is still the sort of well-written, engaging drama that Lost's peers have wet dreams about writing. It's taught, peppered with interesting revelations and contains a smattering of wonderfully executed scenes (Miles, Dr Chang and Hurley in the DHARMA Van/Jack confronting Roger etc.) There's also a refreshing bout of comedy to raise a few smirks: as usual, Jorge Garcia pitches the humour perfectly, particularly when he reveals he's writing The Empire Strikes Back. The main problem, however, is that after the intrigue-heavy 'Dead is Dead', Miles' back story and sojourn to The Orchid and The Swan feel rather lightweight. There's little meat to sink our teeth into, save for a very tantalising cliffhanger and, I suppose, the reveal that Miles is Chang's son which, to be fair, is done with little to nothing in the way of foreshadowing and so packs a decent punch. If only I hadn't called it several episodes ago... 8.0
Wr: Elizabeth Sarnoff & Kyle Pennington
Dr: Mark Goldman
Synopsis: Sawyer perpetrates a lie to protect the remaining survivors from the mistakes of the past.
Review: The first Sawyer-centric episode since the early hours of season three and it's an absolute beaut. While 'LeFleur' is hardly revelation or action heavy, it still manages to hold its head up with the big boys thanks to Josh Holloway's tour de force in the lead role. He's fantastic here, expertly demonstrating James' transformation from wandering miscreant to cool-headed hub of the DHARMA community and making it all seem entirely logical. The dual 1974-1977 time structure could easily have produced some hamfisted developments in the hands of a lesser crew, but here the viewer buys every change, not the least of which is Sawyer and Juliet's budding romance which seems so obvious now that we begin to question why we never thought about it before. While the ending is hardly a shocker, 'LeFleur' is less about dramatic upturns and more about repositioning, laying the groundwork for Lost's trajectory in the remainder of season five and at that, it succeeds admirably. Oh, and did you all spot the back of the four-toed statue? Looks rather Egyptian to me... 9.4
509: 'Namaste'
Wr: Brian K. Vaughan & Paul Zbyszewski
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: After meeting old acquaintances Sawyer is forced to continue lying to protect them.
Review: Unusually for Lost, 'Namaste' is a centric-less episode. While there have been a smattering in the show's history, it comes as something of a surprise at this stage, given that 'LeFleur' effectively set the show back on its more traditional course in terms of episodic structure. Still, no matter... his is a fun hour, no two ways about it. The integration of Jack, Kate and Hurley into the DHARMA Initiative is marvellously tongue-in-cheek: Sawyer assigning Jack to 'workman' duties certainly gave this reviewer something to smile about for a good week or so. Comeuppance, much? There are some interesting developments to ponder here too: we meet the fabled Radzinsky for the first time, the man who blew his brains out in The Swan when it all got too much and Desmond ended up having to replace him. He's making plans for something... hmm, wonder what it could be?! *nudge, wink* Sawyer and Jin's efforts to contain the situation with poor wandering Sayid are suitably entertaining, and it's obviously a joy to see young Ben from 'The Man Behind The Curtain' again, in what is a role reversal loaded with meaning (it's not so long ago that Sayid was on the other side of a set of metaphorical bars, talking to our favourite Other). Perhaps the most intriguing plot progression, however, occurs in the 'contemporary' storyline: why, exactly, is Sun in 2007 and not with the rest of the Oceanic Six? What is 'Christian Sheppard' (Jacob?) doing wandering around the Smokie-d Barracks? And just how is the thirty year time disparity going to be resolved? Maddening, isn't it? 9.1
510: 'He's Our You'
Wr: Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz
Dr: Greg Yaitanes
Synopsis: Everyone on the island is at risk when one of the survivors decides to go against them and take matters into their own hands.
Review: There's something slightly lacking in 'He's Our You'; it seems that its substance isn't sufficient to maintain a high level of interest for its duration. During a few of Sayid's fairly contemporary 'flashbacks' with Ilyana, the plot smacks too greatly of events in the guy's last centric episode, season four's superior 'The Economist'. While deja vu may have been what the writers were going for in order to create some cyclical artistic symbolism, it falls a little flat. And it's regrettably predictable, given that we know the man was handcuffed to her from the events of '316'. The better material is to be found in 1977 as Naveen Andrews does a stellar job of representing Sayid's emotional journey and dilemma vis a vis Ben, with the minimum of dialogue. His 'torture' scene is immense fun, his encounters with young Ben drip with ambiguity and that final scene... well, that's an almighty shocker, even if it is glaringly obvious that what we think has happened, hasn't. In essence, Andrews makes this one and elevates it above satisfactory. 8.3
511: 'Whatever Happened, Happened'
Wr: Carlton Cuse & Damon Lindelof
Dr: Bobby Roth
Synopsis: Kate,Sawyer and Juliet try to save Ben. Kate starts to tell the truth about the lie in order to keep Aaron from harm.
Review: I've never been much of a fan of Kate-centric episodes so it's refreshing to note that this one had me suitably engaged and even managed to offer some intriguing points to ponder to boot. As predicted, our favourite bespectacled anti-hero is alive and mildly kicking and his journey into the hands of Alpert and co. is decidedly interesting, particularly when the Others make their presence felt. This talk of Ben 'never being the same' and 'always being one of us' seems to suggest that, in attempting to stop the boy from becoming the monster he knows in the future, Sayid has actually sealed his fate and created the monster. How's that for cyclicality? Thankfully, the writing staff maintain the course they've hinted at since 'Because You Left' regarding the function of time travel on the show, emphasising the importance of the tone set by the episode's title. There's even a little amusingly self-referential dialogue between Hurley and Miles on the issue which, despite being written and shot months ago, perfectly captures the debate currently raging online. Hopefully, it'll iron out any kinks that the misunderstanding folk still have. And Kate's 2007 'flashback'? Entirely unoffensive and logical. Although I could've done without the 'Claire lookalike' that actually looked nothing like her. A solid instalment then, that positions our players for the inevitable unravelling that is to come. 8.6
512: 'Dead Is Dead'
Wr: Elizabeth Sarnoff & Brian K. Vaughan
Dr: Stephen Williams
Synopsis: To atone for sins of the past, Ben must attempt to summon the smoke monster in order to be judged.
Review: It's always the Ben episodes, isn't it? Season three's 'The Man Behind The Curtain' and year four's 'The Shape of Things to Come' are unquestionably series classics, ranking in the top ten episodes ever and now along comes 'Dead Is Dead' to repeat the trick. Hats off to Michael Emerson: he makes this hour what it is, effortlessly veering from conniving, untrustworthy menace to rabbit-in-the-headlights meanderer, from bumbling new Other to repentant, sorrowful 'father' in the blink of an eye, and he engages our sympathies every step of the way (well, except for when he's shooting Desmond and threatening Penelope, that is.) That's no small feat for a mass-murdering sociopath. Credit must also go to Liz Sarnoff and Brian Vaughan for a stellar script that oozes mystery, from its out and out creepy characterisation of Locke as all-knowing Jesus figure, to Widmore's descent from wise leader to banished traitor (how amazing is Alan Dale throughout this, by the way? From "kill it" to "I'll be seeing you, boy" he sends shivers down your spine with every word) to *that* sequence in the Temple with the apparently Egyptian smoke monster. And how about the new Losties, eh? 'What lies in the shadow of the statue'? Pardon me? Mind-boggling stuff and all the more excellent because of it. Oh and what, exactly, is with Smokie's plug? 9.5
513: 'Some Like It Hoth'
Wr: Melinda Hsu & Greggory Nations
Dr: Jack Bender
Synopsis: Suspicions about a possible breach intensify after Ben is taken from the infirmary, and a reluctant Miles is forced to work with Hurley when he's asked to deliver an important package to a top Dharma official.
Review: The weakest episode of the season, but a far cry from the kind of mediocre travesties that plague other contemporary American television serials (Sarah Connor Chronicles, hang your head in shame). No, 'Some Like It Hoth' is still the sort of well-written, engaging drama that Lost's peers have wet dreams about writing. It's taught, peppered with interesting revelations and contains a smattering of wonderfully executed scenes (Miles, Dr Chang and Hurley in the DHARMA Van/Jack confronting Roger etc.) There's also a refreshing bout of comedy to raise a few smirks: as usual, Jorge Garcia pitches the humour perfectly, particularly when he reveals he's writing The Empire Strikes Back. The main problem, however, is that after the intrigue-heavy 'Dead is Dead', Miles' back story and sojourn to The Orchid and The Swan feel rather lightweight. There's little meat to sink our teeth into, save for a very tantalising cliffhanger and, I suppose, the reveal that Miles is Chang's son which, to be fair, is done with little to nothing in the way of foreshadowing and so packs a decent punch. If only I hadn't called it several episodes ago... 8.0
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