Blogs

No man is an island, even when he’s stuck on one

Jack, Sayid, Hurley and Sawyer, with friend

By Nick Gorini

 
Well – here it is. This week was the official beginning of the end. The biggest puzzle piece remaining now locked into place. Thus begins the mad tumble to the show finale, questions answered, issues resolved, lives lost, souls saved, and most important, solving the biggest mystery nagging us all: What happened to that damn dog Vincent?
 
I could go in-depth and recap this week’s episode, but I think “Happily Ever After” spoke for itself. Other than adding a couple of new questions, it used another deck-shuffling Desmond episode to lay down the law.
 
Let’s quickly state what we know/don’t know as of today:
 
What we know:
 
Love Matters. It certainly matters more than magnets, more than anything. It is love that redeemed Desmond. It is love that opens Desmond’s heart and this week, his mind. It’s clear that each character’s capacity for love, in its many guises (for your spouse/partner, for your friend, for your children, for your humanity, for yourself, even for your enemies) will determine the fate of this universe we’re experiencing.
 
Whatever Jacob may be, and he is most certainly not God-like, his power is in his capacity to love. Is Smokey the personification of evil? Not by a long shot, but what he represents is the inability to love. This might be something Smokey was born with, but I doubt it (and we will find out in a few weeks when he get his backstory).
 
As I think back on the Alpert episode, ‘Ab Aeterno’, I understand why Jacob couldn’t grant Richard his first two wishes (to bring Isabella back, and for absolution). Both wishes were only something Alpert could resolve (notice I do not say ‘grant’). Sometimes, love is holding onto something no matter what may come to pass. But sometimes, love is also about letting go. Jacob couldn’t give Alpert Isabella, because she really is gone, and Alpert needs to love her enough to let go. And Jacob couldn’t grant Alpert absolution, because true absolution comes from within. Absolution is an incredible, powerful act of love. However, Jacob can give Alpert all the time he needs to sort this stuff out, right?
 
Maybe that’s how the island is serving our heroes: It’s the therapist’s couch, with no time-limit.
 
With Desmond, he experiences the essence of love – love has no boundaries. We can forget about Jacob/Smoky and Faraday physics – these are the Lost McGuffins (McGuffins are plot devices that to keep our eyes glued to the screen. Think of McGuffins as the candy coating on a chewable aspirin). Love transcends time, space, squabbles between two petty island-bound brothers, even mortality. Thanks to Charlie’s not-so-gentle nudging, Desmond’s pursuit of love will cause two worlds to collide. The end result? Well…
 
For much of the show’s run, we were lead to believe this show was about survival (even Sawyer said so). But it’s about the survival of love.
 

The little pink pony in happier times

I started my first newspaper when I was in 4th grade, sometime in late 1972, and it was badly written and horribly illustrated and full of stories that were either badly reported, based entirely on gossip or made up on the spot. That publication was short-lived (d. 1973) but its spirit lives on in the Huffington Post, the Drudge Report and virtually every American cable news outlet. 

In a related story: Fox News's Glenn Beck, whose willingness to say or do anything for attention has swiftly made him a hugely influential TV pundit, asserts that his media empire, which grosses north of $30 million US a year, asserted recently that it's really all just entertainment. That all of his super-nationalist patriotism, with its 9 theses and 12 assertions, plus also its tear-stained recriminations and spit-flecked denunciations, much of which now resides at the heart of the Tea Party movement, is merely showbiz posturing. Which maybe isn't a surprise, because the even-more-successful Rush Limbaugh tends to say precisely the same thing -- that he's really just an entertainer --  which is also probably what Keith Olbermann thinks every time he thunders through another Special Comment and/or Worst Person in the World segment. Then you realize how Beck, et. al, influence the T.P. types, whose protestations influence the political process, which influences the American gov't, which holds a certain amount of sway over the entire free world. At which point, well, shit.

Last night I was summoned to a hotel bar to meet a source for a story I'm writing, a feature story, nothing all that important, and at the appointed time I was greeted not by my source (name and identity still unknown, btw) but by a confused woman who had been paid $10 by a stranger on the street, who asked her to hand me a small box that contained the head of a Lil' Pink Pony (or whatever it's called) and a note instructing me to email a single question, which would be answered via some mp3 message. So okay, fine, I'm up for this kind of antic. I realize this is an absurd game, that it suits the quirky personal and/or commercial and/or media interests of my subject. But what else is new? I've been writing professionally for 25 years, writing celebrity profiles, TV reviews, investigative pieces, medical stories, political stories, on and on and on. And I think all of them involved some measure of attempted/successful fibbing, distorting and obvious manipulation on the part of the subjects. In other words: there is very little separating a decapitated toy pony from the text of your average press release. Or White House briefing, for that matter.

Follow the jump for more on Glenn Beck, the big sex story I just wrote and more...

Mmmmmm, electro-doughnuts....

Still a step or two off pace due to my flash-sideways into the fluish world, so I'll cede most of the turf to the far-superior ministrations of my colleague Dr. Nick, pausing only to offer a few random-ish observations on what I think will be turning point in the entire arc of "Lost." And a damned fine hour of TV, to boot...

Observation 1: An entire hour of network TV drama played without the vast majority (any?) of the original characters, in a reality that only may or may not be real, but in which life seemed more or less normal until one mysterious old woman, (Eloise) made cryptic reference to a whole other reality that until that moment in the episode no one else had even mentioned beyond the most implicit crinkle of the forehead, or briefly-puzzled expression, or psychotic-seeming rant about glimpses of.....something. Yes, this was the strangest hour in the history of American network TV. And God bless ABC for putting it up there.

Observation 2: Also God bless "Lost" for not just respecting it characters, but also having such obvious, and overwhelming affection for them. It's a terrific mythology, to be sure. The weave of quantum physics, philosophy, religion and bone-crunching action is simply miraculous. But it would all be immediately forgettable if it weren't for the deep sense of character the show has; its remarkably nimble, and yet deeply felt, character studies, and its perpetual emphasis on the visceral -- and entirely universal -- conflicts that animate, and often devastate, virtually all of its characters. Except Keamy.

Observation 3: Felt sorta nice to hear "You All Everybody" again, didn't it? Driveshaft did sorta rock, back in the day...

Observation 4: Worst acting in the history of "Lost"? The actress who plays Penny (name tk) trying to look natural running the stairs in the stadium. Body too rigid. Arms so tight against her sides she looked like Barbie Track Star, or something. I usually love that actress, and of course the writing of the scene (echoing Desmond's original off-island appearance in the stadium with Jack) was right on. But when I watched her runnning what I saw was a British woman whose regimen leans closer to ciggies and tea than sprints and fartleks. I'm just sayin'.

Look at the package on that guy...

By Nick Gorini

Hello there. Many apologies for not posting last week in regards to the epic ‘Ab Aeterno’, which according to internet chatter, has already become one of the most beloved Lost episodes all time.
 
I did have my reasons for not posting: Spring Break, travel, willfully ignoring things like television, email, phones, and the like. But I must confess: I’m still trying to figure out the Alpert episode! I’ve watched it twice, and I fear I may be over-analyzing myself into a perplexed, Doc Jensen-like Rubicon.
 
So much has been written about the damn thing, that in order to just fill-up that gaping hole in my heart, I will just post a few vexing thoughts about it before I move on to talking about Kwon’s Package…
 
In regards to ‘Ab Aeterno’:

1.   As we expected, it is tragedy that drove Alpert to the island. It’s what has driven all of our major characters. But the man who purchased Alpert as a ship’s slave was working for a man named Hanso. The Hanso family eventually went on to create the Dharma Initiative. Does this mean that the Hanso’s have always been knowledgeable about the island and it’s powers? Was Alpert purchased specifically for that intent?

2.   Alpert’s back-story? Powerful, tragic, and engrossing. I’m also intrigued and trying to understand why he wasn’t offered absolution from the priest in prison. Penance takes time, he was told, and he didn’t have that. Was this an example of a cruel priest perhaps symbolizing the cruelty of the power players on the island? Was it that Alpert didn’t seem so sincere in his guilt, much like Eko was? Or did the priest know where Alpert was ultimately headed? I don’t know…

3.   Some people think Alpert was talking to his wife’s ghost, while others think even the sincere moments were held with Smokey as an apparition. Why did she wait until Alpert called out to Smokey to show up? When the scene cut to Smokey in the distance, why did he look unsurprised at the moment? I don’t know…

4.   Richard the prisoner was really into Luke 4:1-27. But what is the purpose? Alpert wasn’t on a 40-day fast in the desert, and he doesn’t seem to have a demon inside him needing to be cast out. So, folks, why is this passage important?

5.   Smokey? Exactly as I expected him to be. Jacob? That threw me for a loop. Seeing him beat the living daylights out of Alpert shocked me – this isn’t the way we’ve been watching him behave before (or since, if we’re talking linearly timeline on the show). And the fact that it’s ALPERT’S suggestion to become consigliore instead of the other way around? Also odd. This Jacob doubts. This Jacob uses physical force. This Jacob doesn’t seem to operate with the bigger picture in mind. And this Jacob gloats. All of these things… I’m still trying to figure out what it means.

6.   And on that note: “Bring back my wife!” Can’t do that. “Give me absolution!” Can’t do that, either. “Give me immortality!” Oh! Yeah, I can do THAT! Folks, what does this mean? I don’t know…

7.   [Imagined scene from the writer’s room]: Well crap, we still gotta explain the damn slave ship and that freaking four-toed statue! HEY! I know – let’s just crash ‘em into each other! Yeah! HA HA! It’s like we’re telling the audience to stop asking about this stupid crap and focus on the characters, or something!

8.   Lastly, I give myself the delayed Stupid Award from last week, because I didn’t post anything, and because I still can’t figure this freakin’ episode out…
 
ENOUGH! Onto The Package…just hit the jump....
 

Ben and Sun: Some people really weren't meant to be together

My kid has been watching "Lost" with me this year, and so when we got off one plane at LAX last week, and made our way into the international arrivals terminal enroute to another flight, he took a look around and said: "I guess this is when our flash-sideways lives begin." Made me laugh out loud. And it also reminded me of one my favorite aspects of the series: Its ability to both acknowledge, and make light of how absurd some of its central premises are.

Perhaps the best in these moments came in this episode, "The Package," when Sawyer confronted NotLocke/Smoke Monster in the midst of NL/SM's preparations to rustle up a boat for his and Sayid's trip to the Hydra island.

Sawyer: " “Why don’t you just turn  your ass into black smoke and fly over there?”

NotLocke: “I can’t do that, James. If I could do you think I’d still be here?”

Sawyer: “Of course not." (pause) "‘Cause That’d be ridiculous.”

Just because you can turn yourself into black smoke, among other things, and fly hither and yon and destroy everything in sight....well, obviously that doesn't mean you can cross bodies of water to do it. I mean, duh.

But then again, what isn't absurd in the realm of faith and hope and philosophy? It's one thing to have dueling light/dark characters who clearly standi in for God and Satan. But to invest them with similar supernatural abilities -- and the same fundamental questions on the very essence of good and evil - is the sort of highwire act you should never see in popular media. That's Salman Rushdie territory, and last time I checked a significant percentage of the world's population was still intent on killing him.

Maybe the consistent (and consistently angrifying) notion is that life itself is ridiculous. That grace itself -- e.g., the living tomato Jack pulls out of Sun's dead garden -- is a non-sequitur, just as tragedy -- e.g., alterna-Sun catching a stray bullet in the restaurant kitchen shootout, just after sinister-but-doomed Keamy told Jin " that "some people aren't meant to be together." 

Looked like a serious gutshot, in fact, and so the last we saw was Jin carrying her off to get help, which he may or may not find in time. Just as Island Sun has to resist Not-Locke's invitation to take her to her still-long-lost Island husband because she just doesn't trust the Smoke Monster inside of him.

What this all adding up to, Jin-and-Sun-wise, is an-fixable destiny of being kept apart. Just as Widmore - scheming away on the Hydra, with Tina Fey at the head of his recon group - must live tragically without his daughter.....who we now assume is tragically without Desmond, the poor Scots bastard, who has been dragged back to the island for reasons unknown.

So maybe this is the final answer at the heart of "Lost"'s mythology: Shit happens. And then, if you've been touched by Jacob, you don't die.

Another ridiculous notion: Smokey's sense of moral righteousness, even after slaughtering the innocents in the temple: They had their chance to come with him and they didn't take it, he tells Sun. "Those people were confused. They had been lied to." Even the devil has God on his side.

Ridiculous notion #2: The truth, and how to tell it. Ben Linus lied about everything virtually all of the time, but once he made a promise to someone, he prided himself on keeping his word. Smokey seems to roll exactly the same way, and we heard echoes of the same my-word-is-bond business from Jacob and Widmore. Does this mean that the moral poles of humanity maintain their honor even when their acolytes don't? 

The world is devolving. War is afoot. The purest rivers are running dark, the cork may pop and darkness may poison the world. But even a dead garden can cough up a sweet, cherry-red tomato. The spark of life goes on. And like faith, life and (to a lesser extent) "Lost," that's either beautiful or ridiculous. Or both.

Ed's note: The former rock critic and tv critic for the Indianapolis Star, Marc Allan has moved on to academe as an administrator and journalism teacher at Butler University. And yet some habits are hard to break, so Marc still can't resist the urge to crank out lovely bits of showbiz reportage such as this one, published originally in Script magazine. If you didn't see it there, this portait of Garry Marshall's go-to joke writer, Matt Walker, is a deeply observed, deftly-written snapshot of how the movie business really works, straight from the set of Marshall's latest romantic comedy, "Valentine's Day."  Check it out.

By MARC D. ALLAN

The line isn't working. It's Day 19 on the set of Garry Marshall's new movie, Valentine's Day, and he's directing a scene where Alex (Carter Jenkins) is trying to seduce Grace (Emma Roberts). They're inside a closed snack shop adjacent to the field where the boy Grace babysits is playing soccer. She can't believe Alex wants their first time together to be in such a semi-public place.
"For an honors student," she tells him, "you are a Class-A idiot."

Marshall watches the scene through a monitor and shakes his head. He likes the look, approves of what the actors have done, but the line isn't working. The words sound too harsh, too angry. He wants something else.

He swivels in his director's chair to talk to Matt Walker. What Marshall says next isn't completely audible, but it basically goes like this: "Whatta you got, Matt?"


For the next several hours, fixing that line will be one of Walker's many duties. Walker, 41, has been a punch-up guy for Marshall for 10 years. On-set writer is his formal title, but you won't see his name in the credits that way. The official writing credits for Valentine's Day, the stories of nine couples and what happens to them one particular February 14, will read like this:

Written by Katherine Fugate.

Revised by Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein.

Current revisions by Susannah Grant.

The stars will get top billing, of course--Julia Roberts, Anne Hathaway, Jamie Foxx, Ashton Kutcher, Jessica Biel, Jessica Alba, and many more.

And Matt Walker? Unless Marshall casts him in a small role, which he did in Raising Helen, you won't see his name associated with Valentine's Day at all. Such is the life of the punch-up guy.

"The writers got all the money," Marshall tells me later. "They're done. It's me and Matt against the world."

Follow the jump into the heart of modern showbiz....

Tanned, unfit, less ready than ever

It's super-easy to take pictures of yourself and then post them on the Internet, and so like it or not, I'd like you to meet my vacation beard. Which I may or may not bring to work with me tomorrow. Probably not. Too much trouble there already.

Vacation was in Mexico, the little village of Sayulita (an hour outside Puerto Vallerta, I recommend it heartily) and much fun and damage to be had there. Kids learned to surf. I swam and snorkeled, read the vast majority of Jimmy McDonough's "Shakey," then dove into "Middlesex" and parts of "A People's History of the United States." Drank beer on the beach just after 10 am. Won't make a habit of it, but still.

On "Shakey": Awesome in parts, troublesome in others. Sort of like Neil's career, which may have been the point. 

Another great virtue of vacationing in a small fishing village: No internet to speak of, no tv, no English newspapers. Missed the whole health care denouement, but did notice the Mexican tabloid that leads, every single day, with a fresh and gorily-illustrated tale of a new murder, always illustrated with a half- or un-dressed corpse, flat out where he breathed his last. One guy bit on his boat ("Muerte en la marina!"). No matter where, tho, Mexican crime victims seem uniformally un- or underdressed. Porque?

Caught up with last week's "Lost" just now. Won't even attempt to analyze, let alone deconstruct, though the wine-in-the-bottle metahpor - the cork, the red wine, etc - seems to do a thought-provoking job of weaving the physical/metaphysical aspects of the island's power into one groovy idea. Then there's the devil and the deep blue sea, and Jacob not being quite as dead as all that, and the man in black taking his own (brief) vacay away from Locke's bod. He takes many forms, and rarely is who you expect him to be. . . .hola, Isabella. Which now makes us wonder about good old goofball Hurley, who is hanging with Isabella in his odd hours (!) and can commune with the dead....all of which makes me wonder if the "Lost" guys dream up their stories on a beach somewhere, drinking way stronger beverages way earlier than 10 a.m., with thoughts of murders, marinas and all the more gurgling through their bearded heads.....

.....and your little dog, too!

BY NICK GORINI
 
In honor of Sawyer, man of action, there will be NO preamble this week. I'm starting with a few clarifications and theories before we jump into a recap.

There seems to be a growing concern by some vocal viewers that the ‘Sideways’ timeline is actually an epilogue of what is currently happening on the island. And that, if that’s the case, it kinda stinks. Folks, that’s not the case. These events are occurring side-by-side. It’s messy business trying to explain the How and Why, but brutha, you gotta believe me.

This week they showed us an intact plane, and an in-use submarine. One way or another, Smokey is getting off the island. And he will make it to the sideways timeline. And then it will get really, really messy.

How messy? How about Sawyer shooting at Sawyer? How about Locke meeting ‘Flocke’ (Flocke is the internet nickname for Fake Locke). Or how about nice guy sideways Ben getting the crap beat out of him by a confused Desmond? I’m not saying I’m saying these things will be happening for sure, but just think of the possibilities?...
 
What happened to Detective Ford:

The sideways timeline opens with Sawyer having The Sex with yet another nubile thing. A briefcase falls open with a bunch of Benjamins falling out. Sawyer! Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems, Cuz! But is he pulling a con? Nope, because as I suspected after the season 6 opener, he’s a cop! And his code word? La Fleur! Man! That is a stupid code word. In a nice touch, James Ford’s partner is Miles, who looks like a natural in Kevlar and a badge.
 
Back at the station, we learn Ford is awfully similar to Sawyer of old: Much like we saw 1977 Sawyer come to enjoy his security job, this Sawyer enjoys wearing a badge, bustin’ heads, and bedding babes, but only when the job calls for it! That is commitment. We also see that Detective Ford still likes to hide things, like his weekend jaunts to “Palm Springs” really being trips to Australia to track down the creep responsible for his parent’s deaths, Anthony Cooper!
 
Aha! Bad stuff still happened. I believe then, that it was in this sideways timeline that Jacob visited a young Jimmy Ford on the steps of a church after his parent’s funeral to dissuade him from being a bad man. Mission sort of accomplished – if only it were that easy. Also, isn’t it interesting that we see both James and Locke lying about travel in this alternate timeline. Also interesting? Isn’t it obvious that in spite of this new timeline, all of these characters are on some sort of collision course anyway? You know Ford is going to have bust Locke’s dad at some point. Just as we know Jack’s likely to operate on Locke.
 
So, this version of Sawyer has plenty of time for sex with beautiful criminals, but not enough time for a relationship. Naturally, Miles feels sorry for him, so he hooks him up with a friend for a blind date. This friend happens to be a gorgeous, intelligent redhead by the name of… DA DA DA! Charlotte! Great, Sawyer has sex with Kate, Juliet, Ana Lucia, and several others, and now he gets to bat at the plate with Charlotte? Wow, such a tortured soul.

Follow the jump for more sexy Sawyer tales...

Alex Chilton, of the Box Tops and (particularly) Big Star, died together. A mercurial guy, and yet a terrible loss. 

Here's his lovely memoir of adolescent longing, "Thirteen." 

And here's Paul Westerberg's breathtaking tribute to the man himself, "Alex Chilton".

Sawyer and the army of the damned

Maybe the key moment this season came during "Dr. Linus," when island Ben, while clawing through Sawyer's old tent on the beach, came across a few of his literary leftovers, abandoned in the sand. Together they told the tale of one man's divided soul: A copy of Chaim Potok's "The Chosen" (two boys, both brilliant in their own way, both inspired-slash-tormented by their fathers, both torn between fate and self-determinism, etc.) and a porn magazine for dudes who admire ladies with big butts. Ben, who hands positively drip with the blood of the innocents, was scandalized. "What some people will bring on a trip!" he sputtered.

Lately these words speak for "Lost" itself, which has edged away from the taut character studies of earlier seasons to focus almost entirely on the breakneck action side of its personality. What's going to happen? How will the dual plotlines meld together? Where does the island get its power, what does it mean and where will it end?

All significant questions, to be sure. But unlike "The Sopranos," which confounded some fans and infuriated others by edging away from an action-based conclusion in favor of a literal depiction of the spiritual black hole it had been tracing through the entire arc of the series (always obvious if you had ben paying attention, or had the patience to look back and think again) "Lost" is steering its astonishingly complex story toward a more traditional destination.

No surprise, perhaps. They've been promising it over and over again in every single teaser and in-house ad ABC has generated: THE TIME FOR ANSWERS IS HERE.

So, fine. I'm still fascinated; still caught up in the unraveling mysteries. But when it comes to getting out in front of how the alt-lives in L.A. contrast/compare/extend from the island lives; and when it comes to predicting how Widmore is or isn't connected to Jacob and/or Smokey, that's where you (and I) have to turn to the great Lostonian Nick Gorini. (Whose coming wrap-up of this episode, which he thoughtfully previewed for me in an email not 30 minutes ago, contains some real kick-ass revelations).

So when it comes to this "Recon" episode the English majors among us can only ponder Smokey's seemingly heartfelt narrative about the ongoing damage he suffers at the hands of the "crazy mother" who apparently favored one brother (Jacob, obviously) over him. This brings us back to the Hebrews and the tale of Jacob and Esau.....who remind us again of Potok's "The Chosen," and his modern Hebrews, Danny and Reuven. In which book, Danny's father -- the chief rebbe -- cut off his son emotionaly in order to teach him the value of kindness.

So much of "Lost" has pivoted from the broken relationships between parents and children - fathers and sons, mostly, but obviously moms play into the scenario, too. The island certainly evokes the original Eden, and the creation and fall of mankind. The island has its magical powers, and its deadly threats. Its inhabitants are capable of stepping past the boundaries of mortality, or else collapsing beneath the weight of their own flawed humanity. Or, on the third hand, riding the inherent humanity they posess towards emotional transcendence.

Deep into the final season we've already looped through so many versions of these stories, and explored the outer reaches of so many others, it's easier to imagine how the action and paranormal aspects of the story will play out than it is to imagine where the emotional tale will take us. It's safe to assume it won't descend into Tony Soprano's existential blackness. Not because the creators' vision is that much brighter. But because a hit series, like poor old Richard Alpert, suffers its own kind of Jacob's Touch of Eternal Life: the lights stay on, your mascara never runs, you can never truly off yourself, not ever. Talk about dual existences, talk about a blessing that becomes a curse.