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February 3, 2008

The Return of ‘Lost’ and ‘Holy Shit!’ Television


Well, the strike has been impacting the shit out of TV, but this week, we got a few old favorites back. House and Supernatural reminded us they still exist (but only for a few weeks), while Lost has arrived for eight weeks, followed by what will most likely be either the best or worst cliffhanger in series history. At the same time, my two Monday night favorites (Medium and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles) were preempted for the State of the Union. The President revealed to us that hey, everything’s fine. Do we think the bottom dropped out of the stock market, Iraq has become hopeless, and the job market has become a total clusterfuck? Well, we’re wrong—jobs are still growing, but more slowly; the economy’s fine; and the Surge is working. Well, at least we still got our science-fiction fix for the week.

Breaking Bad (AMC) — This episode allayed my worries about the series’ longevity. Apparently they are going for the “day in the life” routine, in which case they could keep it going for a few years, at least. And man, the horror of killing two rival drug dealers, one of whom actually turns out to be alive, and then having to “dispose” of him and the other body… The shenanigans and darkness of that comedy are as close to the Coen Brothers style as television will ever get. With the extreme serious of No Country for Old Men and the extreme crappiness of The Ladykillers and Intolerable Cruelty, it’s nice to see that type of intensity and warped comedy on weekly basis—especially done so well.

It’s also nice to see how quickly Skyler (Walt’s wife) has picked up on his deception. She hasn’t fully figured it out, but she came close enough that it makes me wonder if they do plan to have her figure it out—and maybe even help—sooner rather than later. Last week, it seemed like figuring out what he’s up to would be the main dramatic thrust of her character. Now, I’m not so sure. But I am hooked.

House (Fox) — Is it just me, or was this just an old script with all the names changed to the new characters (and a few bland expository lines reminding us of the events of the previous episode)? Kutner was Chase, the über-kiss-ass who doesn’t actually like House, but will pretend to if he thinks it’s worth his while. Thirteen was Cameron, both because of the obvious (she’s a chick!) and the not-so-obvious (rallying around Janel Moloney’s woman who goes to uncomfortable lengths to not lie to her child, and whining in House’s general direction because he doesn’t believe in the possibility of goodness and honesty). And Taub was, of course, Foreman: the angry, aggressive doctor who thinks he’s a better doctor than the others, questions House’s methods, and mocks the ignorance of his colleagues.

Don’t try to convince me this is some kind of subtle genius on the part of the writers, suggesting that House is trying to recapture the chemistry of his old team because that’s what he “needs.” I didn’t buy that as justification for why he needs a team at the start of the season, and right now I just think it’s a lazy way to keep the exact same emotional dynamics they had before, but with different actors. That said, what’s the point of hiring new characters? At least Cutthroat Bitch would have brought something new to the table. Of course, that’s even ignoring the fact that these characters acted differently as recently as one episode ago. Kutner was always a bit of a kiss-ass, but recklessness was his defining trait; Taub had a bit of an ego, mainly stemming from his being older than most of the applicants, but he also had a bit of self-doubt stemming from his being a plastic surgeon and not a “real” doctor; and Thirteen was the woman of mystery—tough (but not as tough as Cutthroat Bitch) and secretive, which fascinated House. Aside from a few glib references to her possibly having Huntington’s, where did the mystery go? Where did the toughness go? A month ago, she was like Cuddy; now, she’s a sub-Cameron whiner. Ugh.

(I’ll cover tonight’s Super Bowl episode, plus next Tuesday’s regularly scheduled strike finale, in next week’s Idiot Boxing.)

Lost (ABC) — I fucking love this show. Like a madman, a nerd, an insane fanboy, I will overanalyze this show until it stops being fun for anyone but me. Strap in. I have a couple of keen observations that even nerdier fanboys discovered, which I am delivering to the people who do not necessarily frequent resources like Lostpedia or The Fuselage.

Keep in mind, I read Lostpedia only to pick up on things I wouldn’t otherwise notice on my viewing of the show (like the total insanity of the blast door map in the second season) or things I wouldn’t otherwise know because there’s a whole lot of shit I know nothing about (like the Casmir effect). I don’t read spoilers, and I don’t read the theories, because even if they aren’t littered with spoilers (they often are), sometimes people are on-target enough to ruin the surprise. And with that said, I will be trying to ruin the surprise for you all, week in and week out. Don’t worry, though; I’m almost always wrong. I just like trying to piece together the clues.

This week’s notable observations:

  • When Hurley hallucinated ocean water and dead Charlie behind the mirror in the interrogation room in his flash-forward, Charlie had THEY NEED YOU scrawled on his hand. Interesting the way Charlie writing things on his hand has become such an important element of the show (going all the way back to writing FATE on his bandages in the pilot.
  • Again in the flash-forward, unusual use of the letters “H” and “O.” First, Hurley says he saw the “ghost” of Charlie standing by the Ho-Ho’s. Then, when he and Jack play Horse, they get up to H-O (technically H-O-R, but Jack left before calling it). Wondering why it’s significant? Yeah, so did I. H is the eighth letter of the alphabet; O is the fifteenth. 815. Seriously, I could buy it as a coincidence that rabid fans obsessed over for no reason if it happened once in the episode; happening twice, it’s a new layer. Not a clue, I don’t think; just another appearance of The Numbers.
  • The biggie: in the crazy horror-movie cabin scene, who do we see sitting on the rocking chair inside the cabin? I figured it was creepy Jacob making another alarming cameo. Turns out, it was Christian Shephard, dressed the same way he was dressed when Jack saw him on the island in the first season. So, here’s the question on my mind: what the fuck?! Here I was thinking “Guest Star John Terry” was a misprint. Let’s hope his fate is a little less cruel than Anthony Cooper’s.

Here are some of the questions the episode raised in my mind:

  • The creepy-ass lawyer (played by Lance Reddick, a.k.a. Cedric Daniels from The Wire) asked where “they” were. Does this refer to 815 survivors who chose not to leave the island, the Others, Dharma Initiative rejects, or…something else? I’d like to know what he knows, what he’s basing his question on (e.g., does he know anything about the island? If so, why doesn’t he know where “they” are?), and whether or not he’s really with Oceanic. I’ve long been a proponent of the conspiracy theory that someone or some Illuminati-like group of people “chose” them to end up on this island (and at the very least has ties to big business, considering how intimately Paik Heavy Industries and the Widmore Corporation tie into these characters). Desmond may have “caused” the crash (or did he?), but some kind of outside force—human, not “fate” or something equally intangible—nudged everyone’s paths to lead them to flight 815, to lead Desmond to the island to come close to not pushing the button at that exact moment. Who and why are still the series’ greatest mysteries, and I wonder if the “they” the lawyer refers to are the people who stranded them on the island in the first place—or if he’s representing those people.
  • In the flash-forward, what’s Hurley hiding? Why did he pretend to not know Ana-Lucia? Is he protecting Michael? (Based on all the evidence, I’m pretty sure it was Michael in the coffin in last season’s finale. He changed his name, yes, and maybe Walt’s no longer in the picture, but it’s definitely him. I don’t know if he counts as one of the “Oceanic Six,” since he’s shrouded in mystery, but I know he survived, at least until he died a few years later.) Are there others he wants to protect?
  • What is Charlie? A manifestation of Hurley’s insanity (a la Dave) or a manifestation of The Monster (a la the version of Dave on the island)? If he’s the latter, how is it possible that The Island—and Jacob, or the Smoke Monster, or whatever it is that can shapeshift like that (my theory has always been that Jacob can shapeshift, while the Smoke Monster manifests itself through weird hallucinations and dreams, possibly to the extent that it is the reason why nobody ever asks obvious questions, why everyone always seemed disproportionately exhausted in the hatch, etc.)—can follow them back home?
  • We know Jack, Kate, and Hurley are three of the Oceanic Six. Michael made it off the island, but he’s not one of the six. Who are the other three?
  • Why did the chopper from the rescue boat not land on the beach?
  • Why did it look like Desmond, who was so desperate to warn that the boat wasn’t from Penny, go with Jack instead of Locke?

All right, crazy theory time. Here we go…

  • The last time we saw Locke, prior to throwing a knife into Nadia’s back, he was lying in a hole full of skeletons after being shot by Ben. My speculation has been that Ben shot him out of jealousy/fear, because Ben’s become somewhat of a “Chosen One” among the Others—but he’s full of shit. Richard Alpert implied as much. However, Locke really is the Chosen One. Locke really saw Jacob (I don’t believe Ben did), which meant he had to go. But Jacob (manifesting as Walt, I’m sure of it) “saved” him. “There’s something you have to do.” Except it appears he has completely recuperated—the island healed him like it healed Rose’s cancer and Locke’s paralysis.
  • The chopper containing the “boat people” was supposed to meet Jack on the beach. Instead, one guy parachuted somewhere in the jungle. I think it’s a coincidence (in a show where coincidence has become one of the strongest recurring themes) that they just happened to land near Jack and his splinter-group of castaways. It seems reasonable that they saw the empty beach and didn’t want to land, but why would they choose to drop one into a potentially dangerous situation person in the middle of the jungle (where the chopper clearly can’t land)? They listened to one of their crew die on the phone. My opinion: either the bearded guy from Saving Private Ryan was supposed to hide away from the beach and do some reconnaissance and make sure it’s safe—or they’re everything Locke and Hurley think they are.
  • Hurley isn’t insane and never was. Whatever his issues are, they’re tied to the island. In other words, he’s Special like Locke, Walt, et al. This is why Jacob was trying to lure him to the cabin.
  • While Hurley may not be insane, he is one of the most easily duped of an easily manipulated bunch. Locke is by far the king of getting swindled, having fallen victim to every short con in the history of time. Much of his easy manipulation has to do with his strong desire to be Special, and have that acknowledged—prop him up to feel like the most important person in the world, and he’ll eat right out of your hands. From the start of the show, he’s believed The Island speaks to him and is his purpose. At the same time, Hurley falls for a lot of shit because he believes in the good in people. He’s wised up a bit, but it’s still not difficult to trick him. So you have Locke and Hurley, the two people under the influence of Jacob, forming a group of people who think the boat people are bad and want to stay on the island. As we learn from the flash-forward, it’s the wrong decision.
  • The boat people have come from the original Dharma Initiative. When Locke entered “77” last season, it didn’t merely blow up the communications bunker—its final act was to send a distress signal to whoever/whatever keeps sending food drops. Whatever subset of Widmore Corporation/Hanso Foundation still keeps track of Dharma, they’re coming. But not to help.

Monk (USA) — So we’re back to “Monk does something normal in his weird Monk way” stories, I guess. This week: Monk starts painting. To its credit, it had one good insight—revealing the way Monk sees the world, or wants to see the world, as a series of perfect geometric shapes. Clouds are circles, tree branches are straight lines, everything in 10s… Unfortunately, the mystery was a bit bland (as usual). Despite an always-welcome guest appearance by Peter Stormare as an insane art dealer/criminal, it was pretty obvious when Monk’s “canvases” were obviously not made of canvas how shit would go down.

Psych (USA) — This show is doing a really great job of integrating its ensemble, much better than it has in previous seasons. Here, a mystery centering around a secret society managed to integrate both Lassiter and Corbin Bernsen as focal points. It also showed us a bit of what Gus does—as the sales rep for a pharmaceutical company, he starts hustling his wares in the doctor-laden club. They also dialed down the “wacky Shawn” stuff, which I understand is a focal point of the show, but it won’t get annoying or obnoxious if they continue to utilize the supporting cast this way.

Supernatural (The CW) — Quite a lot happened in this episode, and yet it felt like a throwaway. Obviously, the most interesting revelation is that Ruby was once human, as were all demons, but for some reason she hasn’t fully lost her humanity. This could still be an elaborate ruse, but based on this episode, it sounds like they could be going balls to the wall with Dean’s pact. If they actually have him die and return as a demon, they have an out: he’s a demon who, through sheer force of will, refuses to let his humanity die with his body. The story with the yuppie coven book club was funny but slight, which I guess is why the big revelations of the episode took me by surprise.

The revelations also cast a different light on the episode from last year in which that crazy hunter whose name I never remember was turned into a vampire. He didn’t handle his slow loss of humanity terribly well. Will Dean suffer the same fate, or does that episode exist to show us how much better (and less insane) Dean is? On that note, this supposed army of demons Sam will lead—are they good guys or bad guys? So far, we’ve seen a lot of exploration of the “gray area” about what it means to be a demon. I have a feeling all of that will take on new significance if/when they allow Dean to die.

The Wire (HBO) — It’s a testament to the unending genius of this show that we can root for people like Omar and Proposition Joe, criminals so thoroughly entrenched in “the game” that not even retirement can keep them away. This is not the grim, black-and-white world of Law & Order or CSI. On The Wire, everybody’s a little bad, but most people have a little good. Sometimes a lot of good. I didn’t feel quite so much when Stringer Bell got his, because Stringer not only put a hit on D’Angelo Barksdale—one of television’s all-time great characters—he made it look like suicide, made D’Angelo look as weak as humanly possible when it was his turn. In the third season, I felt a little bad for Stringer when he got fucked by Clay Davis, I felt a little bad when his ambitions to go legit kept getting soured by early-release Avon’s rabid dislike of Marlo. I even felt a little bad when he died.

But it wasn’t like Prop Joe. True, Joe was mostly in the background, working his magic going all the way back to the first season (when he made a funny first impression during the epic East vs. West basketball game, dressed in a suit with a clipboard “like Pat motherfuckin’ Riley”). He didn’t really step up until the innovation of the co-op, and even then he was a player who seemed to merely add color and dimension to the world the writers have constructed. It never occurred to me how important he was as a character, how great Robert Chew played him, and how bad shit in Baltimore’s drug trade could become without him—until Chris Partlow got him while Marlo coldly looked on.

This is one of those episodes where a metric assload of plot developments happen, but everything gets forgotten in the wake of one major event. So what other notable events happened?

McNulty and Beadie had a fight. “Jameson’s and Listerine—your scent.” Best insult ever. I don’t think I’ll ruin anybody’s day by speculating their relationship won’t last the season. And hey, he doesn’t deserve her. Meanwhile, McNulty and Lester amp up the serial killer’s M.O. Biting with dentures? Twisted shit. Sort of takes you back to one of the earliest episodes of Homicide: Life on the Street, when Pembleton tells Bayliss he’ll never be a good homicide cop because he can’t think like a criminal. I don’t think McNulty or Lester have that problem.

Omar’s going to stake out Michael, Dukie, and Bug? There’s no way that can end well. Either Omar’s going to get got, or he’s going to take down two innocents and one should-be-innocent. The corner is getting more and more depressing, which is another odd thing about The Wire: it’s not like they portrayed drug dealing and corner life as a positive thing in the first place, but look at how much “the game” has decayed since the first season, when the Barksdale crew was on top and the towers were still in place. In a show that works in metaphors, that’s as equal as the grimness of the institutional meltdown of the police department/stevedore union/city hall/school system.

Burrell’s out, Daniels is the new Deputy Ops (what was that smile? Happy for himself, or happy to have Burrell gone?), and Clay Davis is going down. That grand jury scene, followed by the “perp walk,” was some phenomenal acting by Isiah Whitlock, Jr. “It’s the coming out tells the tale.” Holy shit, does it ever. This episode has renewed my faith that it will tie everything up—or, at the very least, give us satisfying ambiguities—in 10 episodes. They’ll just be 10 episodes packed more densely than an espresso portafilter.

D. B. Bates is a film critic and television viewer who has often shouted at fictional characters who probably wouldn’t listen to him even if they could hear him and existed in reality. Interested in explaining to D. B. the many ways he got it wrong? E-mail him.

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