“Lost” Says Farewell, Part III: A Show That Can’t Be Categorized, A Purpose That Can’t Be Ignored

Despite my ramblings musings in Part I and Part II, I do realize that the most popular theory at the moment was that they did survive the crash after all and that the flash-sideways was purgatory. I’m certainly open-minded enough to accept that theory (which is what it is), but I certainly just thought the final scene of panning along the crash site and debris was another in a line of clues that they never survived at all, in addition to the admission that they filmed the final episode immediately after filming the pilot six years ago.

Personally, I think the writers spent so much time churning out red herrings that they eventually ran out of time and had all these spokes of the wheel that ended in corners, which forced them to take the relatively easy way out. But the characters were ever-present, and demanded our attention to the end. Sort of like Tony Soprano, all the characters have just enough of a mix of good and evil that you are not sure as a fan of who to like and why and who is ultimately good and bad. These determinations mostly depend on your perceptions, beliefs and life experiences.


“I’ll see you in another life, brother …”

If we accept that the show is primarily about Jack, then kind of about Hurley (including the protective, brother dynamic between the two of them both on and off the island), then you have to throw Desmond into the mix as well. This triumvirate forms the backbone of the series, with Des’s ability to withstand electromagnetism allowing him to get close enough to the source for him to “unplug” it, rendering the MIB mortal and starting the destruction of the island. The irony for Desmond in all of this is that his job for so long was to keep the source plugged by pushing buttons. Then, at the end, he symbolically removes the wine’s cork by removing the stone that was plugging the island’s malevolence.

In the flash-sideways, Des served as a conductor, a conduit who helped bring the survivors together to come to a realization of their alternate connections. By helping to “catalyze the awakenings,” as someone put it, he was able to eventually create the proper scenario for all of them to escape purgatory and “move on.” He was described as the show’s constant, making him one of the hubs in my opinion.


“We were brought here for a purpose, for a reason, all of us.”

At the end, Jack says that Locke was right about everything all along, specifically about how the island drew them all and was part of a larger purpose. Much of the series dwelled on the battle between the Man of Science (Jack) and the Man of Faith (Locke), and it is seemingly only through Locke’s death that Jack is able to reconcile himself to adopt faith in his life. Locke was on a literal and figurative walkabout, searching for something to believe in, when the island captured him. Stepping back from these circumstances, “Lost” can certainly be painted effectively as a character study on how a Man of Science eventually turns into a Man of Faith.

I’m going to miss Jack’s odyssey. I’m going to miss Sawyer’s hilarious nicknames. I’m going to miss Hurley’s “Dudes.” I’m going to miss the Charlie-Claire-Aaron pseudo-family. I’m going to miss Desmond’s pursuit of Penny against all odds. I’m going to miss the subtlety of Bernard and Rose. I’m going to miss the amazing Vincent. I’m going to miss the Sun-Jin love story that traveled over miles, language, absence, decades and other obstacles. I’m going to miss Linus as the official “Lost” punching bag. I’m going to miss the misunderstood Mr. Eko. I’m going to miss the queen of freedom fries, Rousseau. I’m going to miss the enigma, Charles Widmore. I’m going to miss the landscape as a central character. I’m going to miss Jacob’s calm wisdom and the Man in Black’s furious outrage. I’m going to miss Locke’s stoic regalness. I’m going to miss Sayid’s internal war. I’m going to miss the tragic Juliet. And I’m going to miss "Freckles" for so many reasons.

Oh, how I’m going to miss Freckles.


“If we can’t live together … we’re going to die alone.”

If you would have told me six years ago that I would have gotten reeled in by a show about an island that sometimes gets stuck in time and disappears, with three different timelines vying for attention, with random tropical polar bears, with a cast of personalities that is tripled by separate alternate-timeline identities, with plot lines that disappear into blind alleys and dead ends, with major characters that disappear for no reason at all, I likely would not have believed you. But what made “Lost” remarkable was its function as escapist TV; we were asked to believe in hydrogen bombs causing no damage, flash-sidewayses, a dude who doesn’t age and wears eyeliner, and an island that can’t be found on a map, and we never blinked. And that’s a credit to the writers and producers.

“Lost” was a primer on relativity, forgiveness, choice and consequence, point of view and flipping stereotypes, powered by an international cast and an approach that literally and figuratively altered the face of primetime television as we know it. Hell, at times, “Lost” became a caricature of itself. It was part love story, part examination on human nature, part redemption song, part religious morality play, part epic and part Shakespearian tragedy, and it could be as frustrating as it was entertaining. But if you were expecting a steady stream of easy resolutions, then you weren’t watching very closely over the last six years and 121.5 hours of episodes, and that’s on you, not the “Lost” team.

It was a wonderful ride that we didn’t want to ever end, and that’s certainly where some of the hurt feelings over the finale truly stem from. Maybe we’ll see you in another life, “Lost”; until then, I’ll never hear the phrase, “Where are we?” without thinking of that tragically beautiful beach.

And thinking of those six years when I was “Lost.”