• There’s something about Kevin Tighe’s performance in this episode that makes me chuckle. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t blink. In any case, while I found myself chortling over Tighe’s no-blinky-Cooper, I found the revelation of Cooper’s fate to be enormously satisfying in a dark-hearted sort of way, and that makes me feel a little dirty. In another life, this man caused his son no end of misery (granted – much of that misery was ultimately caused by Locke himself, and his inability to “let go” of his desire for a father-figure), and so there’s a certain amount of arguable karmic “justice” to how he’s ended up in the off-Island universe. A man who spent his life taking advantage of the trust of others (Others) is now completely reliant on them for what looks to be everything, including spittle-wiping duty.
If it turns out that my Second Snake theory is correct, this is an arguably-just fate for the incorrigible Cooper. But it’s also a profoundly sad one, and my pleasure over the notion of this being some kind of karmic suckerpunch is what makes me feel dirty.
• It strikes me that any vengeance James Ford may be looking for in the off-Island universe has been rendered moot by the reality of Cooper’s condition. Ford can’t do anything to this man that’s worse than what’s already been done to him. Will that fact enable off-Island Ford to find a path to self-healing?
• Watching Terry O’Quinn stalk his way through a hail of bullets, snapping necks and gun a’blazing, helps me to appreciate the number of levels on which I enjoy this show. There’s the high-falutin’ philosophical stuff, sure, and I love it; there’s the attention to detail that’s apparent in both the smaller character moments and in the larger “mythology” sense, and there’s the heartstring-tugging efficacy of these plots. There’s also the pure pulpy satisfaction I get from a scene like this one, and from the continually-great acting work done by Terry O’Quinn. Anti-Locke is a scary badass, and he’s tremendous fun to watch. Harp on the season all you want. While you’re doing that, I’ll be enjoying the look on O’Quinn’s face as he dispatches Widmore’s “guards.”
• So, let’s take a vote – did Widmore’s team of grungy Insurance Salesmen plant the explosives that Anti-Locke discovers in the plane? Were those explosives planted by Ricardus, Benjamin and Miles (and, by the way, where the hell are Richard, Ben and Miles?)? Or have they been placed there by Anti-Locke himself? Whoever wired the C-4 didn’t do a very good job of hiding their handiwork, and the Man in Black seems to know exactly where to find it. For now, I’m chalking this up to the fact that Anti-Locke seems very…sensitive to technology. Recall that back in Season 3, when Ben first takes Locke to Jacob’s Lynchian cabin in the woods, that Ben remarks “Jacob hates technology,” and that the room around them starts to go crazy when a flashlight is turned on. We now know that Jacob wasn’t in the cabin, and that the Man in Black was. We also see that he’s somehow able to sense that the sub has sunk, but that not all of the Castaways are dead. Just how “sensitive” is he? Do you think he cries at romantic comedies?
LOCKE: “They were only guarding the plane for show. If Charles had really wanted to keep me from actually getting on board he wouldn’t have moved his little fences.” HURLEY: “Well… wait, now he wants us to leave the island?”
LOCKE: “No, Hugo. He wants to get us all in the same place at the same time… a nice confined space we have no hope of getting out of… and then he wants to kill us.”
• Remember this exchange, and the words that Locke uses here. We’ll be coming back to them very shortly.
Locke: “Push The Button…I wish you had believed me.”
• As mentioned up at the top, at this point it’s obvious that some kind of “bleed-through” is occurring between the off-Island and on-Island “universes.” Desmond’s whole run-a-dude-in-a-wheelchair-over-to-wake-him-up gambit seems to have been only partially successful. Locke’s only “awake” when he’s unconscious – which is, come to think of it, a nice grace note in a season that’s obsessed with awakening to Good Being and becoming “conscious.”
• Jack gets an Apollo bar out of the vending machine and offers it to Claire, a moment that echoes the Season 5 finale, in which we saw Jacob hand Jack the same candy bar. What’s the significance of this? Well, it further underlines the notion that Jack may be the “new” Jacob, and it also points up again the presence of Apollo in Lost’s narrative. I’ve written about Apollo before, and about some of the ways in which myths about Apollo appear to reflect aspects of Lost’s narrative. You can read yet-more rambling on the topic by clicking this link and scrolling about a third of the way down.
• Jack and Claire finally have their “Hey, we’re brother and sister!” discussion, and I found it curiously affecting – not so much because of anything in the scene itself, but because I’m generally the sort of person who puts an ooky amount of emphasis on the importance of, and the power of, family. Jack and Claire also get another of this season’s now-patented Mirror Moments of Reflection, and in this case, share that moment – something that’s clearly intentional and clearly meaningful. Why? Well, for one, they’re reflected in the music box, a gift from their deceased father. Which, if you wanna get all artsy-fartsy about it, is very apt, since they’re both literal reflections of their father. That they share in the moment makes sense, given their familial connection, and given that Jack continues to reflect on, and connect with, the weird “coincidences” that pepper the off-Island storyline.
But let’s NOT get all arztsy-fartsy. Let’s talk about why this is meaningful on a simple, emotional level. Back in Season 1, when Claire was arranging to have unborn-Aaron adopted, she requested that the adoptive parents sing “Catch a Falling Star” to the baby. Why? Because it’s what her father, Christian, used to sing to her when she was very young. That’s the sort of emotional, subtle grace note that’s easy to overlook when the show is barreling ahead at its current speed.
• “Catch a Falling Star” is a ditty that’s had significance in Lost’s storyline since Season 2. I’ve suggested in past columns that this song may be a literal theme for the show, with the two “universes” we see being represented as “stars,” and with Jacob’s ultimate gambit somehow involving saving (or catching if you will) one or all of these universes as they fall. This symbolism is reinforced by the appearance of Eloise Hawking’s distinct “star” broaches from this season – broaches that represent a clear departure from her previously-favored Ouroboros broach.
Anti-Locke: “Whoever told you you needed to stay had no idea what they were talking about.”
Jack: “John Locke told me I needed to stay.”
• Chills. Serious chills. This exchange ranks up there among my absolute favorites from Lost’s entire run, because it so succinctly and powerfully summarizes Jack’s journey.
I don’t know about you folks, but I’ve found Jack’s evolution this season to be nothing short of inspirational. That’s the sort of comment that makes me an easy target for potential mockery, but I’m entirely comfortable with that. I frankly love the way that Jack’s story-arc has progressed, and I’ve found his Island-awakening to be moving in a way that’s genuinely unexpected. I’ve never seen the conversion from doubt to faith portrayed as well as it’s been portrayed on this show.
It puts me in mind of the Road to Damascus. And before you object, and point out that there’s nothing in the episode itself that refers to that particular Biblical event, let me say that you’re right. There isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t draw some useful parallels, hopefully illustrating the depth and profundity of Jack’s transformation from Man of Science to Man of Faith. I promise that this’ll be (relatively) quick.
“I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light.” – Acts 26: 17-18
• The Road to Damascus is the road upon which Paul, formerly Saul, got himself a new religion. It’s also, by the way, the subject of a painting by Caravaggio – the same painter who created “The Incredulity of Saint Thomas,” which is the painting that Ben and Jack discuss in the church where Dharma has hidden it’s Lamppost Station.
It was on the Road to Damascus that the man formerly known as Saul underwent an “enlightenment” that transformed him so thoroughly that he chose for himself a new name which reflected that transformation – from that point forward he would become known as Paul. Paul’s mission, as quoted in part above, was to help to lead people toward literal and figurative “enlightenment,” to turn them “from darkness to light.” This was an especially ironic turn of events, because prior to his conversion moment, the man known as Saul of Tarsus had spent a great deal of time and energy brutalizing and persecuting Christians. It makes no real logical sense that such a man would be chosen to be a servant of God, but it makes complete sense if we accept that part of the Christian God’s New Testament mission involved a number of “rehabilitation projects,” people who were, in the eyes and minds of Others during that time period, considered “unclean,” or “common,” or, in Saul’s case, brutal torturers and killers.
The choice to pick a persecutor of a religion to receive the “enlightenment” associated with that religion is essentially a mirror of the way in which Jack, a formerly-avowed Man of Science, has been seemingly chosen to champion the idea of Faith in the Island. It’s a reversal, arguably caused by the same kind of blinding white light that Saul was supposed to have seen on the Road. Only, in Jack’s case, that blinding light was courtesy of a Hydrogen Bomb. Note also that, more generally, the people who Jacob has chosen as his potential replacements are, just like Saul/Paul, “rehabilitation projects.” They are not “good” people in the standard, moral sense. They are, each and every one, deeply flawed.
• Some folks have been pointing out that dunking the MiB didn’t “do” anything to him, and I suppose this is being pointed out because it’s been so heavily implied that the water surrounding the Island keeps him trapped there. Speaking for myself, I don’t believe that the MiB is allergic to water, or supernaturally-repelled by the stuff, or prone to melting ala the Wicked Witch of the West. I just think that his “Smoke Form” is incapable of traveling over bodies of water, which means he’s stuck on the Island(s). Anti-Locke could, potentially, swim back and forth all day between Hydra Island and the main Island, but the sheer expanse of water beyond that would defeat his human form, and the existence of it would defeat his smoke form.
That’s how I see it at this point.
• So, were you hoping that Kate was going to bite it too? I know I was. No offense to Evangeline Lily – I’d have preferred her death over any of the others that were served up during this episode. But no, Kate needs to stick around looking pouty, continuing the “love triangle” that I continue to tolerate.
• In an interview with Jeff Jensen over at Entertainment Weekly, Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse reveal their thoughts on this week’s Reaper-driven installment of Lost, and they confirm something for us that, frankly, should be obvious by the time you’ve finished the episode: Anti-Locke is badder than Bad, Bad Leroy Brown. He needs to be stopped.
…Well, yeah.
If you’ve been following along with these columns, and/or following along with the season in general, I think you’ve probably come to the same conclusion. I’ve never fallen for the Man in Black’s hella-convincing line of patter, but it’s been clear why these characters might do so. The ambiguity of Anti-Locke’s mission throughout this season has been, I think, one of its biggest strengths, helping to viscerally illustrate the difficulty of maintaining any kind of faith in the unseen/unexplained when there’s a reasonable-seeming devil on your shoulder asking you why you’d bother. Now the truth is out. I’m thrilled. While I genuinely enjoyed the ambiguity, I’m very ready to see Anti-Locke unleashed.
• Someone on Chud’s Lost thread made the comment that trying to kill the Candidates now, and in this fashion, makes the Man in Black seem stupid, since he’s had years to try and trick the Castaways into killing each other/themselves. I’m no expert, and I’ve got no access to the creators’ thoughts or intentions, but it seems to me that he’s been trying for years to get them to do just that. Go back to White Rabbit and watch as Jack almost tumbles from a cliff as he’s pursuing his father, or to Season 2, and how the Swan conflict resulted in an explosion that should have killed Locke, Desmond, Charlie and Eko, or to the freighter explosion that almost wiped Jack, Kate, Sun, Sayid, Jin, Desmond and Hurley off the map, or to the episode “Dave,” in which a malevolent specter attempts to convince Hurley that his life on the Island is a hallucination of sorts, and that killing himself will allow him to “wake up.” These hints have been with us for a loooong time, and when you go back to rewatch the show some of you are going to be surprised by the ways in which the MiB’s gambit has been sewn throughout the show’s storyline. If you’re curious to revisit those moments now, you can always read/re-read my Lost: The Rewatch columns.
STILL MORE LOST, RIGHT AFTER THE PAGE BREAK!