Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Who wants to read another English paper?

So last semester I wrote my final paper about Lost. I flat-out told my teacher that I couldn't find sources that held any interest for me, and frankly, I didn't need any (I used one quote). She was confident enough in me to say that she thought I could do it anyway. I'm kinda stagnating this semester as far as writing goes (just cause I haven't had that many real analytical things to write), and I was reading this again to, I don't know, inspire me again? Inspire me with myself, kinda douchey? Well yeah, but I'm proud of this paper. I think I made a pretty good case as to why Lost is better than any television show around, especially from some kind of "media commentary" perspective, like what engages the audience mind. So yeah, if you wanna read it, you can, obviously. I'm really just looking for a boost of ego because I psych myself out when I go to start writing a paper again. My teacher gave me a lot of confidence, but it kinda scared me into thinking I could never write something like these again. Wow, ok, anyway, cya. 

*and for anyone that wants to watch Lost, and hasn't, there's a big ol' spoiler waiting for you in this. jussayiiiiin.

Lost: An Exceptional Island In a Sea of Mediocrity

With the introduction of serialized storytelling, television made huge gains in narrative structure previously thought to be capable in films and novels alone. Relationships and plot blossomed episode-to-episode allowing complexity and character development to flourish. In the midst of this popular trend of serialized television shows, Lost has defined itself as the pinnacle of television, setting the bar to an unprecedented height and exemplifying all that television can encompass. Through its use of highbrowed allusions, complex storytelling and thought-provoking themes, Lost seeks to make its audience think about life, death, faith and reason among many other topics. The attention given to writing – as opposed to executing explosions (24) or configuring a love triangle (Grey's Anatomy) – establishes the show as a diverse world instead of a singularly-focused gimmick. In essence, “Lost” is the human experience as presented by a weekly dose of 42 minutes of television, an experience not likely to be found via Don Johnson or The Dukes of Hazzard.

The use of allusion stems from a desire to inform the audience about the different layers of a creative piece of work by referencing other forms of culture. While some television shows thrive off popular culture allusion, “Lost” uses intellectually high-end material to enforce ideas the writers want to get across on the show. Characters are frequently seen reading books that highlight characteristics shared between the show and the book, such as time travel in A Brief History of Time, survivalism in Lord of the Flies, or the sense of being in a fantastic world in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The books can potentially become integral to the show as when “a crucial plot development hinged on a copy of the Charles Dickens novel 'Our Mutual Friend'” (Aurthur, 1). By putting these references in the show, it inspires viewers to read and pick up clues and themes tangential, but altogether relevant to the overall picture of Lost. Communities organized by the writers and by overly devoted fans have formed virtual book clubs to study these works and weigh their importance to the show. A casual television viewer is now a scholar on Dostoyevsky and the mysticism of The Turn of the Screw.

John Locke was a famous 17th century philosopher commonly known for his social contract theory and beliefs on empiricism. To viewers of Lost, he is the boar-hunting, spiritually inclined recluse commonly seen seeking his greater purpose. This conscious effort on the part of the writers is not coincidental, but an intentional reference to inform the character more thoroughly. Philosophers lurk in the shadows of Lost as their names and beliefs are represented on-screen: Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the savage man, and solitary living as a lone island wanderer; David Hume and determinism as a relentless Scotsman; or Mikhail Bakunin and anarchy as a proponent of the destruction of an entire governance. Other basic ideas frequently resonate on the show, such as electromagnetism, psychology and religion. Though neither explained in entirety or dumbed down for the sake of falsely educating, viewers can seek out answers to why the DHARMA logo is shaped like a Buddhist symbol or if electromagnetism could end the world. Lost creatively uses its appeal to infuse thoughtful allusion into its subtext, making it not only entertaining, but educational.

More than any show on television, Lost uses its cumulative knowledge of culture as emphasis and inspiration. Whether it is an episode titled “A Tale of Two Cities” or Jack Shephard emerging as the leader (or shepherd) of his people, there is thought behind every decision. Both writers and viewers benefit from this thought-process: writers get to display their intellectual prowess and inspiration, while the audience are encouraged to educate themselves and become active viewers. Television of yesteryear had no interest in turning you away from the screen, while Lost goes out of its way to recommend it. It requires its audience to be knowledgeable and attentive, and gives them the tools in order to decode the many omnipresent mysteries. Where television's main goal is to suck an audience in, Lost strives to provoke thought and explore culture.

The initial mystery at the beginning of Lost had nothing to do with polar bears, mysterious island inhabitants or a great rumbling in the jungle from an unknown monster: the curiosity came from a desire to know about the characters the audience were just becoming familiar with. Each episode was dedicated to one character, using a flashback to probe into their lives and discover what motivated them to make the decisions they were forced to make. With an ensemble cast of 14 characters, keeping track of these intricate lives was no easy task for the audience. Neither were these flashbacks fully explanatory: brief periods of each character's life were focused on in each episode with a bounty of missing links that made their life a mystery in itself. Why was Locke in a wheelchair? What crime did Kate commit? Why do Jack and his father have issues? The audience were forced to ask questions that would be answered by future flashbacks, and only with several more could the audience begin to piece together the lives of these characters. The out-of-order process engages the viewer's mind to, once again, become active in the viewing process. Unless the information is fully digested and assembled, the audience loses the connection to the character.

While flashbacks are ubiquitous in any form of fiction, the literary dark horse technique is the flashforward, plunging the viewer into an unknown world with reason and explanation yet to be discovered. Though underutilized, the flashforward is a bold step for any writer who has set up a world full of complexities and consequences not easily changed, showing the determination of the story they have laid out. A story echoing Jack as a control-freak and drug abuser, the season three finale “Through The Looking Glass” (wink) saw Jack proclaimed as a hero, attending the funeral of an unknown person and drunk-dialing a hesitant female. The collective carpet was pulled from every Lost viewer's feet when the flashback everyone thought they were watching turned out to be a flashforward as the unknown female stepped out of a car and revealed herself as Kate, another island dweller.

The flashforward technique utilized in season four made the “why?” and the “how?” as important as the “what.” These episodes were not character studies or introspection; they were full-fledged plot-driven results of a now unknown past. The audience could have sufficed with ignoring past episodes and flashbacks, seeing as they were ultimately ancillary to the overall island story. Now, however, if the audience did not start putting together the flashforwards, the narrative would become a disjointed mess full of unrelated scenes. The prevalence of flashbacks and flashforwards on Lost is not what makes their use unprecedented: it is the idea that using past, present and future, a fully-formed mosaic will become clear once the show has concluded. The show is finite, with a clear beginning, middle and end, making each step along the way important relative to the long-term story. The decision to set an end date for the show displayed a greater progression of television: instead of trying to milk a show for all its creative worth, the producers decided an ending would make the journey that much more compelling. The decision was not motivated by losing viewers or critical appeal, but by a desire to creatively end a story as a complex and engaging as television has ever seen.

Other decisions on the part of the writers create Lost as an antithesis to shows such as 24 or Heroes. In the apparently eventful world of 24, an entire season takes place over the course of one day. Is an examination of character possible in a single day? Can any one day define a person, or reflect change as they grow? If it's not one day, it's over months and years, where other shows put a gargantuan amount of time between episodes where the character has apparently stagnated. Lost's linear narrative, with the support of flashbacks and flashforwards, shows true character progression over a realistic length of time. No mindset is changed by one event or one episode; time and experience reflect understanding and change in character. The season-to-season transition is also staggeringly dissimilar. The trend among serialized shows is to remain serial until the end of the season, where the writers hit a giant “RESTART” button and their story is back to normal; the next season will have little implications from the previous one. In Lost, the next season picks up right where it left off. Viewers need to retain all the information in the show in order to keep up. Every episode and situation leads the audience on a journey that takes them to a present in which everything that happened is accountable. The complex storytelling that Lost creates packs better plot, illuminates character and requires audience attention unparalleled in modern television.

Theme is the heart of fiction; it delivers a message as it subsides in the depths of storytelling to reveal grand ideas. Whether it is redemption, life and death, parental issues or coincidence, Lost evokes resonating ideas that transcend throughout humanity. Two debates spark fantastic discussion on Lost that are unique to the show and its situation: faith versus reason, and good versus bad. Characters have been called good ominously, as if their being good is what keeps them alive. A mysterious man named Jacob creates lists of people he considers good. With the island split into survivors of Oceanic 815 and The Others (a group native to the island), good and bad are relative to the perspective each character has. The Others commit atrocious acts that they imply are justifiable to their cause, while the survivors react to outside threats to protect themselves. The unique situations these characters find themselves in, such as surviving on a burning raft with your enemy or torturing an unarmed man to discover he's an Other, releases buried emotion and showcases the true identity of the character. Lost makes no attempt in defining good or bad, but suggests the good and bad in everybody. It avoids cookie-cutter explanations with interest focused on the thought-process. This examination separates Lost from other shows that paint characters and actions as clear-cut and black-and-white.

Faith versus reason is a fundamental discussion in the world we live in, and is also fundamental in the world of Lost. The two juxtaposing ideologies are led by Jack, the grounded-by-reason spinal surgeon, and Locke, the faith-driven believer. Each struggles with his own beliefs as everybody struggles with internal conflict. Consider this quote as they discuss the possibility of a computer saving the world:

Locke: Why do you find it so hard to believe?

Jack: Why do you find it so easy?

Locke: It's never been easy!


Their relationship with faith reflects realistic ideas: Locke believes the island has given him a higher calling that makes his life meaningful, while Jack believes the odd happenings are rooted in science and coincidence. Lost's debate of faith versus reason shows a maturing of television and the way it broadcasts ideals, giving them depth that represents accurately.

The face of television has been forever changed by Lost. As an island in a sea of mediocrity, Lost stands out for its intellectual prowess both hidden and prominent, surpassing the writing skills of any other show on television. Its complexities show a huge progression in television from what was once a medium of mindless sitcoms and melodramatic soap operas. Critically acclaimed shows of today cannot compete with the groundbreaking use of Lost's story, references and themes. The overwhelmingly large audience that Lost has retained over four seasons shows the progression of the television viewer from a passive to active viewer. Lost's ability to change itself, instead of becoming “an island show,” shows pigeonholing and making a gimmick of yourself can be outweighed by character and story. Television has finally found the answer that film and novel answered a long time ago; it can only be hoped that everybody someday finds Lost.


Monday, March 9, 2009

KHAAAAAAAAN!



Star Trek marathons rule. I'm so psyched. Wrath of Khan is legit. Get into it.