Mythology: One Last Lost
By Martin Felipe
April 6, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
I probably should go back, do my research, and quote exactly what it was that troubled me so about the comments directed at Lost. I got lazy, though, and am relying on memory. The gist of it, as I recall, is that good though the finale may be, it leaves viewers wanting because it leaves far too many questions unanswered. This would perhaps be the biggest sin of all, considering that mystery drives so much of the show’s narrative.
Thing is, it doesn’t really leave very many questions unanswered. In the year since we lost Lost, I’ve rewatched the entire run and there are very few instances where any given mystery isn’t resolved in some fashion or other. For example, one of the biggest complaints is a lack of explanation for what makes Walt so special. Well, we do find out what makes him special. It pretty much comes down to him appearing where he really shouldn’t be. What we don’t discover is what the significance of this is. Great, so Walt can astral project or something. So what?
Here’s where the crux of it is: it really doesn’t matter so what. What matters is that Walt gets a satisfactory resolution to his arc. Whether this resolution is, in fact, satisfactory or not, well, I could argue that one all day and it’ll either work for you or it won’t. Bottom line, his arc does get resolution.
There are tons of these types of mysteries that lack significance in Lost; Libby in Santa Rosa, Ben’s childhood friend Annie, lots of the details about the Dharma Initiative, and so on. We lack perhaps the mechanics or details of many of the elements of the show to fill in every last gap. The thing is, show runners Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse claim that these details aren’t what the show’s really about. It’s about the characters.
It’s almost a cliché now, but the comparison keeps coming up of the addition of Midichlorians to the Star Wars mythology. This particular aspect of the prequels doesn’t really trouble me, but to many, it fills in a hole in the story that no one really wanted filled, or knew needed filling in the first place. Luke, Obi Wan, Yoda, whoever are strong with The Force. That’s all, no further explanation required. Midichlorians add a quantitative element to The Force, making it seem less like a mystical energy field binding the universe together, and more like a mathematical equation. Count your Midichlorians kids! Then you’ll know how good you’ll be at moving rocks with your brain!
Lindelof and Cuse stated often that they never wanted to Midichlorianize Lost. Yes, there’s a mythology, but it’s really more about the characters. And I think this was the right way for them to go. I’ve gone on and on about characters and how they are the most important storytelling device of them all. A mythology is only as fascinating as the characters that inhabit it. No matter the frustrations fans feel at seemingly unresolved elements to the mythology, few had complaints with the resolutions to the characters’ arcs.
And this is my main argument when I say that Lost, as a complete work, is a television masterpiece of the new millennium, worthy of a place in the Pantheon of TV classics alongside The Sopranos, Friday Night Lights and The Shield. Few shows juggle the vast myriad of characters that Lost does, and few offer such fulfilling emotional climaxes for them all.
Having revisited the series as a complete unit, I’m impressed at how unifying the mythology really is. We do know the gist of what’s happening on The Island. The show does work as a complete piece, and both its mythology and characters remain true and consistent. The ending packs a powerful emotional punch, worthy of the six seasons that come before it. And it goes out of its way to avoid the Midichlorian trap.
So why are there still niggling concerns? Why do so many fans feel cheated that the holes aren’t completely filled? Why can Star Wars get away with a vague explanation of The Force, but Lost can’t with a vague explanation of Jacob?
I think it all goes back to that narrative device, mystery. Star Wars never sets out to be a mystery. We learn right away what The Force is, we accept it, and we move on to Mos Eisley Spaceport. Lost, on the other hand, raises the question of The Island, then forces us to wait. Were we introduced to Jacob and Smokey right off the bat, we’d have accepted the mythology as is, and then focused on the characters. Instead, we get all sorts of hints at cryptic goings on and then wait six years for all of the pieces to fall into place. Then when they do, there seem to be pieces missing.
However, Lindelof and Cuse want Lost to be a character driven, emotional journey. And it is. The problem is that they present it to us as an elaborate puzzle. To be sure, the puzzle has a picture, but we’re left wanting to see what’s beyond the edges. Lindelof and Cuse then say, don’t worry about that stuff, you can see all you need to see in the picture. Let’s focus on that. How does the picture make you feel?
The answer, for many, is "frustrated." Rather than throwing the characters into what seems to be a complete picture, they build the picture over time, making it seem less complete. Non-linear storytelling is nothing new, but it requires details. Lindelof and Cuse try to create a sweeping Star Wars mythology, using a far more specific storytelling device.
This is why a viewing of the entire mosaic is so helpful. Revisiting these characters, knowing what’s the deal with The Island, it becomes more clear that we do know all we need to know. We’re no longer learning along with Jack and the crazy gang. We can sit back and experience their cathartic journeys. There will always be more to explore around the corners, but Lost’s Island is really just a galaxy far, far away somewhere in the South Pacific. We drop into a tiny slice of it, spend our time there, then move on when Jack closes his eye for the last time. What more do we really need to know?