Themes, glorious themes.

'It is possible to locate certain themes in artwork XYZ' is not meaningful criticism (it's a middle school book report). Similarly, 'This art raises questions' isn't really much of a compliment; 'problematize' isn't the most ambitious thing you can do to a concept or object.

I mention this in the context of an interview with JJ Abrams, where he's complimented on Lost's way of 'tackling philosophical issues about fate and free will and science vs. religion.' For the thousandth time: Lost hasn't 'tackled' any issues of any depth at all! There's a difference between lip service - mere reference - and any kind of exploration. The Wire 'tackles issues.' Lost gussies up its pulp boilerplate (twists as ends in themselves) with superficial hand-waving at concepts like 'free will.'

So, please, if you think things like this interviewer seems to think, please please explain to me: What did Season Two of Lost, which centered around the button-pushing experiment in the hatch (the most didactic presentation of a 'moral quandary' imaginable), actually say about free will or science versus religion? If you're a TV critic, paid or otherwise, who apologizes for this show by making reference to its 'philosophical' content, can you outline even a single argument or beyond-grade-school-level evocation that the series makes? Because I don't see it. I don't see anything in there but pulp, I don't think there's ever been anything in there but pulp, I don't think the show has ever asked a serious question about anything at all, and I don't think the show's apologists can actually locate a single exchange or consideration of ideas on Lost that rises to the level of, say, the absolute worst episode of The Sopranos. (Which, for those who care, is apparently 'Columbus Day' by common consent.)

May as well say: the weakness of the show starts from the irresponsibility of the characterization: open-ended narratives and unsolved mysteries would be fine if the characters were complex enough to justify ambiguity. They're simply not; the 'complex' characters are incoherent, the 'strong' ones are thick-headed fools. (Locke is a mess, Jack is a cartoon, and so forth.)

I have yet to see a convincing argument that Lost is about anything at all beyond its own velocity and melodrama. Beyond its novel structural conceits, I think history won't have many nice things to say about it. So where's the best counterargument? Where's the best criticism of this show, seriously? Is there any consistency or integrity to it at all? And if not, can we admit that it's always been a mindless pleasure at best?

Comments

[Jessie]

Two thoughts...

The "themes" in LOST seem primarily to operate as evidence that the writing staff is well-read. Um, good for them, but it only complicates the show on a metalevel, not a inter-story level.

From an acting perspective, a performance ought to be about making choices, excising nonpossibilities to give structure to possibilities. On LOST, I've always felt that the operating theory of acting has been the opposite, leading not necessarily to noncharacterizations but allcharacterizations. The show is greedy, and the actors are hamstrung by that.

[William B]

I think the other issue is that, to the extent that Lost has a philosophy and an outlook, it seems to be one that favours "fate" over "free will" (stop pushing the button and the world explodes! if Desmond sees Charlie dying, he has to die!), but there's no real thought behind it. If anything, I think it comes just from writer laziness. If everything in your story is "predestined," than whatever contrivances you have are because you planned them to support how well "fate" works.

I think criticism of LOST is like the button-pushing, actually. If television critics don't keep saying LOST is an excellent show every so many days--if people stop drinking the LOST kool-aid, in other words--then the show will explode. The only thing that keeps the show running seems to be the presumption of excellence--that What We Are Doing Is So Cool.