Make an Argument
Why Lost’s series finale was satisfying
By Eric Hughes
May 26, 2010
BoxOfficeProphets.com
The consensus on the finale’s effectiveness – that is, how well Team Darlton wrapped up their six-year-old lovechild – is split between two distinct camps. One side says the decision to disregard the show’s mythology in favor of a 150-minute ode to Jack et al. was pure monkeyshine and straight up disrespectful to Lost’s legion of rabid fans. The other believes the opposite: That concentrating the finale’s attention on the show’s pack of leading men and women was an inspired choice.
Consider me a believer in the latter school of thought, and with one thing to add: Not only is Lost’s series finale brilliant; it’s one of the most memorable. Ever. Here’s why:
Before proceeding, please note that I will be discussing key elements of the finale and, well, the series. (Read: The column is riddled with spoilers).
One more thing: I can’t argue my final point fully without spilling details on the finale to HBO’s Six Feet Under. So, if you have yet to watch Six Feet Under, please disregard my final talking point. Truthfully, I’d hate for you to remember me as the guy who ruined your experience of television’s Best. Finale. Ever.
Got it?!
Still with me? Then let’s do this, brutha.
For me, Lost has never been about the mythology. It’s about the characters
The reason I say this is two-fold: A) I usually can’t get behind science fiction. Regularly, I either can’t wrap my head around the content or don’t think the material compelling enough to power through, or both. And B) It’s the characters, stupid!
In the case of Lost, I could wrap my head around the content and I did think the material compelling. However, the characters and their well beings were leaps and bounds more valuable to me than, let’s say, dissecting the origins of a parrot that may have said “Hurley.” Honestly, expending energy on something that frivolous is about as useless as Four Square.
This probably explains why I could take extended breaks from the series without regret. So long as I got reacquainted with my favorite castaways every now and again, I was satisfied.
In The End, big chunks of mystery are left unresolved. What’s the story behind the Islanders who inhabit the island before Jacob? What is the protector of the island really protecting, and why? How did the Lostaways create the flash-sideways timeline?
In the immortal words of Fred Armisen (impersonating Joy Behar): So what? Who cares?
Throughout the series, what concerned me most were the characters. I felt for Hurley when Libby died. I celebrated the reunions on the beach after dangerous missions. I cursed Jack for turning to the bottle when life went to shit.
With six seasons worth of episodes in the kitty, we had leading up to the finale a fair amount of fleshed out characters who deserved a satisfying conclusion. While some character-driven shows end things with a condensed summation, Lost – based on evidence in the finale – devoted an entire season to its epilogue.
The show’s executive producers have always said that Lost is about the characters. They proved that in the finale.
Tying it all together
As exceptional series finales do, The End made good on tying together the finale with happenings from previous seasons. This has me believing that Lindelof and Cuse did have that master plan they always claimed they had.
Take those poignant montages in the flash-sideways timeline, which are best described as nothing less than super déjà vu. In moments of miraculous enlightenment, characters recall their respective experiences on the island, oftentimes in the arms of another person who clearly means the world to the character.
Can you imagine what the strength of those memories must feel like? In a brief period, you go from some state of normalcy to instant recall of every aspect of a relationship – the first kisses, the tribulations, the moments of comfort – with a person you didn’t know you knew… until now.
Explaining this to someone who had never seen the show, I nearly broke three times. The power of those montages is nothing short of spellbinding. And the fact that they’re formed by clips from previous Lost episodes adds an extra layer of special.
A neat bit of symmetry is in the finale, too, that ties The End to the Pilot. As the series concludes, Jack lays wounded on the beach. Vincent the dog enters the frame and sits next to Jack’s head. An extreme close up captures Jack’s eye closing for the final time.
Brilliantly, this echoes the series premiere. An extreme close up captures Jack’s eyes opening for the first time, post-crash. Vincent enters the frame, pants in Jack’s direction, then scampers off into the jungle.
Live together, Die together
Television’s finest programs are those that carry lesson plans. You know, grand philosophies on life and the rest of it that an audience learns through symbolism, character, dialogue or by other means.
Lessons learned from Lost can’t be counted on my hands, let alone ten hands. But, one of the series’ best take home messages happens to be in the finale: That we don’t experience life alone. Instead, we depend on other people just as much as they depend on us.
Christian Shephard, discussing the flash-sideways timeline, says to Jack in the closing minutes: “This is a place you all made together so you could find one another... Nobody does it all alone. You needed them and they needed you.”
Again, powerful stuff at work here! For reasons unknown to Jack, he and his island buddies created a shared space to remember both each other and their experiences on the island.
Why? Says Christian: “To remember and to let go.”
The relationships Jack et al. formed on the island were so important so as to be instrumental in getting the characters to drop their respective demons and move on to what’s next.
The End reminds me of that other amazing finale where everyone dies at the end
Finally, the Lost finale shares important similarities to what I believe to be television’s best finale to date: Everyone’s Waiting, the concluding episode of Six Feet Under.
In its final minutes, Claire hits the road in her spankin’ new Prius that very well could’ve doubled as a Toyota commercial. Meanwhile, a moving montage highlights future milestones in the Fisher family legacy. Events include David and Keith’s wedding, Claire and Ted’s wedding and the moments leading up to (and including) the deaths of every major character.
The finale broke Six Feet Under devotees, including me. It’s shocking, horrifying and, most importantly, memorable. It’s scientifically proven to be impossible to sit through with dry eyes. Just ask the me of two years ago who was haunted by the finale for weeks, especially those final six or so minutes.
Six Feet Under also argues that we never die alone. Before death, we’re surrounded by loved ones or, based on Ruth and David’s respective experiences, we “see” loved ones who died before us.
Sounds familiar? It should.
What’s great about The End is it puts a unique spin on these ideas, which I’m sure originated long before Six Feet Under anyway.
Though we the audience see only a few characters (Smocke, Jack) die in the finale, it’s understood that everyone dies. And, need evidence that we look out for each other? How about that flash-sideways timeline?
ABC’s Sunday block was an exciting night for television. Being the cultural phenomenon that it was, Lost’s finale was, arguably, scripted TV’s biggest event since Friends. Sure enough, The End delivered.