Decoding LOST...

In six scenes I now prove that LOST is about "more than meets the eye"...but we are NOT talkin about Transformers here!

LOST: A show about people stranded on a deserted island? Or something more? Through a series of excerpts & vignettes, I now show how LOST tells a complex story that is "more than meets the eye." Read these discoveries and then see what you new things you notice on your next re-watching of the TV show LOST...

The Most Important Players:

Jack breathlessly wrestles with alcoholism and a 3-day beard, even on an island with virtually no alcohol or razor blades.  Struggles with the loss of his wife at the hands of his future self, who masquerades as his drunkard of a father.

John cannot escape the jungle's calling.  He doesn't represent religion so much as "pagan naturism", banging sticks and bones together so that he might discover the inspiration to write an angry manifesto on "Sovereign Man".  The kind of person who doesn't pretend to know more powerful spells, but will attempt to convince others of his mastery over mundane magic (i.e. dominion over ants, communing with birds, etc.)

Hurley challenges himself to eat an entire bush, but quits halfway through because he realizes it is a vegetable.  He is presented as a statistical anomaly on an island full of plane crash survivors.

Charlie waves "goodbye" to everybody after eating an entire bag of cocaine.  He dives into the ocean and proceeds to swim away.

Linus is the puppetmaster, always pulling the strings.  He makes himself a Pinocchio and then kills it; ruminating, he starts to make another Pinocchio.

Mr. Eko builds a church to his God (a palm frond with a face drawn in feces) and forcefully converts the other survivors to a religion based on a SkyMall catalog.

Kate takes her top off and cracks a coconut over her head.  Coconut milk dribbles over her nubile frame. She bites down on her lip, closes her eyes, and makes a quiet, deep, animal sound.

Michael is the perpetual worry of a doting parent: Constantly sabotaging his own efforts through self-doubt and lashing out blindly at others.  He flaps his arms and shouts, "My son! My son! My son!" until his brow is slick with sweat and his teeth are pink with blood from somewhere.  Finally he builds a glider, launches it off of a mountain, and drifts around the island for several days while throwing spears at people below.

"LOST"

S1E6: In this scene, we see that purgatory is inhabited by polar bears and bees.

    "Don't move," the bald man (John) hisses.

    Ignoring the warning, Charlie Pace stuffs a statue of the Virgin Mary (made of pure heroin) into his sagging, weathered pants.

    "Beeeeees," the bald man's words are a whisper.

    Charlie's eyes widen.  He looks down at his naked, hairy feet.  Fat toes and dirty, unkempt nails dig into the husk of an exposed hive, and bees are pouring out of it.

    "What's a bee hive doin' down 'ere! Bee hive's s'posed to be in the trees!" he gasps.  There is a massive gap between his two front teeth; a bee flies out of it.

"LOST"

Michael Searches for WALT: In this scene, we see how the embodiment of the "bad parent" tries to compensate for his failings by turning to overly-complex solutions: Hand-built technology and magick.

    After Walt disappears, Sayid helps Michael build a "Little Boy Detector" out of bamboo and airplane pieces.  He turns it on and it begins making noise.

    "Gotta be honest, I'm jealous of your newest invention," Charlie says to Michael.   He reaches out to caress the machine but Sayid slaps his hand away; Charlie can't even suppress his sheepish smile as he wrings his hands restlessly.

    The machine continues to make strange noises--crackling and whirrs, beeps and squelches.

    "Feedback is good, yeah?" Michael asks, sticking his face right up against the device, breathing it in; his eyes are like saucers reflecting the wicked green glow of the various lights and knobs the device bristles with.

    "Not on Little Boy Detectors," Sayid clarifies darkly, thinking.  "Modern technology can only accomplish so much.  It is said that the Ottoman ruler Bayezid the Thunderbolt got his name, not in battle, but from the creation of a tool that controlled the clouds.  Yet it is also said that the tool was powered not with man or with mule...but with the enthralled soul of a young boy."

    Sayid gives his two companions a moment to reflect on the implication of his story.  "We need--"

    Michael and Charlie grin broadly. "--a little boy!"

"LOST"

Time Travel (Part One)

    "What does this have to do with time travel?" Jack asked, exasperated.
    Using a single finger, Linus gingerly pushed his glasses further up on his face and cleared his throat.
    "The Israelites," he began, "had a word for this: Zman, meaning 'time'."
    "So are you telling us it will work?"
    Linus giggled and gestured to Jack and himself, to the space around them, to the sun and the clouds.

    "I'm telling you that unless we obey the Seven Laws of Noah, nothing will work."

Time Travel (Part Two)

    Faraday wriggles his fingers like an octopus's tentacles; his eyes roll into the back of his head as he performs a mental mathematics marathon.  "Three...uh...err...seventy-six-point-six...mmmhmmm...yes, but, ah, we--" he mutters, trailing off.

    Then suddenly, clarity.  "It is a machine.  A boat, as it were...but for the waters of time."

    "A time machine!" Miles exclaims.

    "No...no, no," Faraday holds a finger up and corrects him.  "A time machine would control time. My machine passes through time."  A finger appears on the other hand; the hands drift apart until Faraday stands with his arms spread, Christ-like with his gangly frame and long, dark hair.

    He climbs into the machine as if to demonstrate, but nothing happens.   "As you see, by simply existing, I am passing through time.  The waters of time are passing over us, coming from 'before' and departing for 'after'."  He firmly grips the wheel of his machine, 10-and-2, and stares straight ahead.

    "Outta my way, dipshit!" Charlie leaps into action, slapping Miles to the ground and scrambling onto the machine.  "I gotta date with a bloody dinosaur!"

    "No! No, you'll ruin everything!" Faraday protests in vain.  The machine begins sputtering wisps of black smoke almost immediately; sparks shoot off in all directions as flames erupt from underneath.

    Charlie cackles, eyes wide, teeth popping out of his mouth like roughhewn pebbles.   His lips and nostrils are caked with saliva and drugs.  He throws his weight back and forth, trying to tip the machine over.  A jet of flame leaps out and consumes him, and he falls from the machine.  Faraday's lip quivers as he makes the expression of a person who is about to be hit in the face.

    The machine explodes in a cloud of iridescent time-smoke and flaming wreckage.

"LOST"

S4E11: "A mysterious man visits John."  This scene can be reinterpreted a few ways: The most obvious is that John is a sort of Jesus figure.  But think about John's reputation as a pagan naturist, constantly searching for purpose and reading signs in the ash and animal bones.
    His reach for greater meaning is constantly disruptive to those around him, at first as an unintended consequence and then, later, almost as the point itself.  And from this perspective, isn't our mysterious visitor using John as the ash?  As the animal bones?  Sitting down in front of John and consulting the cosmos for impossible future insight or assurances like some primordial political pundit?

    The year is 1958.  A boy sits in his room, using colored pencils to sketch a picture of a large grotesque with wild, unkempt hair.  His name will be...Harley, he thinks to himself.  No, not Harley. Close--but what?

    Before he can figure it out, he is interrupted.  "Hello, John," somebody calls out in a low purr.   John looks up and sees a handsome man standing at the window, watching him with an intense, unblinking gaze. The man is so close to the glass that his hot breath fogs it up, even on a warm summer evening.
 
    Before John can react, the man pushes the window open and climbs inside.   The smell of clove cigarettes instantly permeates the room. "My name is Mr. Alpert," the man says as he unties a bindle and begins to gently arrange a series of items out across the floor.   Pictures of two strange men sit before John.  "Which one is it, John?"

    John thinks about it and finally points at a innocuous picture of a smiling African American man.

    Immediately Mr. Alpert's expression shifts from optimism to devastation.  "No, John," he growls and begins shoving the objects back into the bindle.  "That was not the right choice."  He stands up, adjusts his bright red tie, and exits the room.  "You will regret that choice."

    Even after Mr. Alpert slams the window closed behind him, John can hear the strange man castigating him as he fumbles through the bushes and storms away from the house.

    Exactly half a century later:

    John Locke trembles with sudden profundity as he watches the final results of the U.S. presidential elections.

"LOST" 

S2E20: "When in doubt, reference Catcher in the Rye; it works almost every time." -- J.J. Abrams

    Libby stares wordlessly, expectantly, like a startled doe in a field of morning glories.  "I--I love your hair-smell, dude," Hurley stammers, using a line that Bernard sold him for a can of Dharma tuna.  He blinks rapidly and paws at the sweat on his forehead.  "Like, up until now, I've felt like Han Solo without a Chewbacca.  And I'm like, 'dude, I need a co-pilot if I want to get off this island'.  And...here you are, you know, with your hair and everything," he reaches out to touch her hair, but she reflexively recoils.  "And you could be my Chewbacca, right? Dude: Be my Chewbacca."

    He grabs her hands and she winces.  "Please, please, please," he trails off until the only sounds are his lips mashing together and pulling apart again to form a silent "...please."

    "I...just came for a book," she nervously explains.  "Sorry...I really don't want to give you the wrong idea."

    "You gotta give him a chance," Michael lectures Libby with a smile.  The smile immediately evaporates when he realizes she disagrees.   "Look: He's been nice to you. You're like, 'Hurley, gimme some peanut butter' and what does Hurley do? Gives you some peanut butter. Now Hurley's asking to smell your hair. Doesn't cost you a goddamn thing!" Like a switch being flipped, Michael has become visibly upset. He paces back and forth, shaking his head furiously. "I swear to god. I SWEAR. TO. GOD."

    Libby backpedals. "Look, you're sweet. I don't know if I gave you the wrong idea, I just wanted something to rea--"

    "I do not believe this shit!" Michael shrieks, kicking a chair over. He pulls at his hair and continues making shrill noises.

    Attracted by the commotion, Ana Lucia enters the room. She is a fearless gunslinger--hands hovering over her hip holsters, fingers fluttering. "What're you dickheads up to in here?" If Ana Lucia was in a movie, she'd be played by somebody who never loses their cool; who never loses.

    Michael spins around, fumbling for his pistol and firing wildly. One, two, three rounds miss her by several feet. Everyone is stunned. Michael is stunned up until the moment he takes careful aim and shoots her in the stomach. She grunts and falls to the ground.

    "Dude!" Hurley cries.

    "She...well she startled me" Michael explains. The switch has been flipped once more; the seething animosity flash-freezes into cold contemplation. He studies the pistol and repeats the statement again to himself, as if to rehearse it. He finally looks at the other two and says flatly, "...and you startled me."

    A copy of Catcher in the Rye falls from Libby's lifeless hands, and the camera zooms in on its cover.

"LOST"