The 'Lost' series finale: Let go

Matthew Fox in the Lost series finale

Photo courtesy ABC

Dumb. Insulting. Anticlimactic. We get it already: Some of you didn’t like the “Lost” series finale. Okay, “didn’t like” is an understatement. Going by many of the prominent voices, the show was a failure of cosmic proportions that invalidated all six seasons.
Except, you know, it wasn’t. The finale was good. Many parts were great. It was emotional. It answered questions. The final scenes were so beautiful that in five years, when the surprising venom toward “Lost” has been turned elsewhere, Jack’s final close-up will be included in “best closing scenes” lists.
(Spoilers below, of course.)
The mantra for the finale was “let go.” So… let go. Take a deep breath.
Step back. We were led into a game of specifics over five seasons, where freeze-frame was mandatory post-each viewing to get a more complete picture. “Lost” demanded attention. Until it didn’t. This last season, I paused and rewound not once; at least, not to wish my high-def Samsung had the sort of zoom-and-enhance so common on cop shows.
Too many people could not, yes, let go. Was that the fault of the writers? Well, sure. And then they spent a year asking us, subtly and blatantly, to let go. To let the story end.
Let me clarify that: The writers want us to let the story of this group of candidates and castaways end. “But,” the criticism goes, “we still don’t know what the Island was! Or where, or why…”
No, we know what happened when one group of candidates was brought to the Island. Remember Battlestar Galactica: “This has all happened before, and it will all happen again.” Witness the number of skeletons near the Island’s heart, the Egyptian architecture, the implication by Hurley that he and Benjamin Freakin’ Linus had further adventures as No. 1 and No. 2. We got the story of one group. They were the focus; the Island was not. Should we have gotten an Animal House-style treatment of how the final survivors lived out their days?
Well, okay, that might’ve been cool, but unnecessary. They lived, they died, they found their time together had created a microverse, a — yes — Purgatory where they could reunite and move on.
(Yes, Darlton said they wouldn’t have the Island be Purgatory, and it wasn’t. It was a very real place that very really nearly destroyed the real world.)
That microverse reinforced how each major character grew as a result of his or her Island time. Jack yearned to fix everything, and finally fixed the Island and Locke’s soul. Sawyer was a good guy playing bad; he grew into a hero on the Island and a hero-cop in the microverse. Hurley, the Star Wars-quoting man-child, grew into the Island’s protector and, as a lottery winner, a wise and benevolent leader. And so on.
Right now, less than a day after the finale, I have not one iota of interest in how the next generation of candidates fare, or whether Hurley guides the Island until the end of days, or what happens when other corporations discover the flawed Paradise. I watched one group of candidates for six years, and was happy with how their story ended.

Tags: , ,

About Freshmaker