by Larry on 24/05/10 at 10:33 am
On September 22, 2004, a TV show began with the lead character flying home with his father’s coffin. I’d been flying back and forth to Georgia as my father was dying of cancer, and, ten days later, he did. So of course with Lost’s overt themes of life and death, parents and children, and rampant spirituality, it made a strange sort of sense that I’d become immersed in a show that seemed to be addressing many of the challenges I was living through at the time.
Not everyone is going to think, in a show about polar bears and ancient temples and time travel and mysterious experiments and kidnapped children and smoke monsters and immortal sidekicks, that an emotional and spiritual resolution is going to be satisfying. But Lost never was a show about polar bears and ancient temples and time travel and mysterious experiments and kidnapped children and smoke monsters and immortal sidekicks. Lost announced very early on that it was about second chances and redemption and learning to live together, or they were all going to die alone.
Now, I could break down the show like I usually do, and, honestly, I probably will a little later in the week. I promised Betsy Warren I won’t stop recapping, and I’m pretty sure that whatever’s going on in Spectacularry going forward will be illuminated by choice references to Lost. I could point out how awesome it was that my man Frank is the guy who got everyone out of Dodge, and gave Jack a bit of peace seeing his friends safely off, right at the end, there; I could point out how everyone slowly came to believe in each other; culminating not with Hurley telling Jack “I believe in you, dude” or Jack telling Hurley “I believe in you, Hurley” later, but with Miles pulling a strip of the great grey life-saver and practically screaming to the heavens “I believe in duct tape!” I could even go into how awesome it was to see the large stained-glass window in an ostensibly Christian church have the icons of the great religions: a cross, a Star of David, a Star and Crescent, an Om, a yin-yang symbol… and a frozen donkey wheel. But I won’t. At least not today.
Today, I’ll just point out that last night’s finale was the perfect ending to an excellent show, because after six years, it did what it says on the tin: they didn’t die alone, because they all learned to live together.