Jeremy Paxman is doing the full Morris, about the spree shootings earlier today, so it seems like as good a time as any to escape into the brighter, sharper world of Lost.
Oh, yeah, I forgot… Previously on Lost, three beloved characters got obliterated. One literally, and two disposed of at the bottom of the ocean, where their bodies won’t ever be retrieved. Sigh.
So, we start on Jack’s eye – this shot is a favourite convention of the show, and if somebody hasn’t already compiled all of them together, somewhere, it’s bound to happen soon enough.
So we’re scant episodes from the end of the line, and Lost decides to take another step out of it’s ongoing story to tell us a tale of the distant past. As with “Ab Aeterno” a few episodes ago, I’m guessing it’ll give us some interesting but not vital background, that this late in the day will frustrate those of us eager to see how it all pans out, but that we’ll probably appreciate a lot more on later viewing.
I think if I was writing the final season of a show like this, with the working knowledge that geek love is a painfully co-dependent and resentful sort of love – as likely to exert the full, grumpy weight of thwarted expectation and entitlement as it is to just revel in the exhilaration of being taken on a fun ride for forty minutes of every week – and I knew that we’d managed to get the incredibly versatile and captivating Alison Janney on for an episode, I think I’d probably be unable to resist the mischevious instinct to use her as a mouthpiece for a fond yet firm assertion that I felt the audience needed to hear, too.
So Jack saved Locke, and he thinks he’s a candidate for a surgery that Jack is developing. John Locke doesn’t want to be a candidate, though. He seems to recognise the phrase. Jack could do with having House MD on his side.
Jack wakes to Sayid telling him that they’re on Hydra island. Sayid even makes a joke. Actually, I reckon Sayid might be back on the turn again.
Jack’s sweetest moment in ages was last episode, where he deferred to Hurley. Now he asks Hurley’s permission to go and talk to non-Locke. It is a lovely moment.
And now non-Locke admits what we had already worked out – that he was the vision of Jack’s father from way back in that first or second episode. He says it was because they needed to find water. And that makes a certain amount of logical sense, but it’s difficult not to see that it was a pretty cruel choice to make on non-Locke’s part. (more…)
I am so far behind it is unreal. And you guys are all trying to talk about the finale and I have to go like LAH LAH LAH LAH with my hands over my ears, so here we go. Going to shimmy through.
So, like, Libby! I love Libby! I’m so glad they’re actually doing something with her character. I already know that Mr Sulman will have been thinking of me when he saw this episode, because I’ve been going on about her since, like, she died and that.
I had to ask Girl One about this one – because as I get older, my memory goes on certain things, and sometimes it’s quicker to just ask her. I had thought I always went on about “When The Man Comes Around” by Johnny Cash, for my main funeral song, but apparently, I went for something even more literal than that.
I want “On The Radio” by Regina Spektor, to be played at my funeral.
I could claim that it’s the purely reflective aspect of the song – how it picks out tiny, lovely, poignant details out of a life, and presents them as the memorable, heartwarming moments that they actually are – as worth remembering.
Or I could suggest that the peculiar and satisfying blend of traditionally beautiful and classical voice, with idiosyncratic delivery and contemporary lyrics, that Spektor represents is something that I want played to add those elements to the service where people are supposed to remember me, as if those things will somehow rub off on their memories of me.
But actually, I think it’s the reference to the hearse being driven through the screaming crowd. It’s a retarded combination of really, painfully obvious and literal – it’s a hearse, you see? You see? – and joyfully macabre that I think would be surreally amusing played at a funeral, and I don’t know anybody else who’d be willing to have the song played at theirs, so I guess I have to have it. Even if it means I only get my kicks on this score from beyond the grave.
I got the feeling that last week’s episode of Lost was deliberately intended as a breather episode before the final half of the season kicked off, and I’ve been looking forward to this one all week. Not sure if I’m dissappointed that it’s a Kwon episode or not – I love this couple, but they seldom move the story forward very much, and that’s what people want right now.
Kieron Gillen posted “Swim” by Madder Rose, as a song that reminded him of somewhere. It was the first time I’d heard or even thought about that song in years, but while listening to it, I read Gillen’s post, about a Sixth Form full of music and memories, and the arbitrariness of choosing one song to define a particular thing, if you’re a certain sort of person with a certain sort of relationship with music.
But something he said, about a girl playing the song to him, triggered off a couple of different thought processes, and I ended up pretty much spamming his comments with them.
The song that came to mind, after some meandering, was “Creep” by Radiohead.
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
It’s not a particularly sophisticated choice. The song is almost designed to resonate with a certain sort of boy in a certain sort of period of his life. But, you know, it is what it is. So few things work the way they are supposed to by design, and this particular one totally does. At least for me, in the perfect storm I found myself in in 1993.
I’ll let “Comments Nick” explain, in an only-mildly-edited-from-the-comment-I-just-left form. Just assume everything after the jump is in quotation marks:
Kieron Gillen found this, and acquired it, and I don’t think I’ll manage it with quite his skill, as he writes about music in a way that suggests an almost photographic – phonographic? – memory, but as I just filled his comment box with what could notionally count as one – or maybe two or even more – of my days, I figure I’ve probably got it in me to give it a shot with at least half of my arse.
day 01 – your favorite song
day 02 – your least favorite song
day 03 – a song that makes you happy
day 04 – a song that makes you sad
day 05 – a song that reminds you of someone
day 06 – a song that reminds of you of somewhere
day 07 – a song that reminds you of a certain event
day 08 – a song that you know all the words to
day 09 – a song that you can dance to
day 10 – a song that makes you fall asleep
day 11 – a song from your favorite band
day 12 – a song from a band you hate
day 13 – a song that is a guilty pleasure
day 14 – a song that no one would expect you to love
day 15 – a song that describes you
day 16 – a song that you used to love but now hate
day 17 – a song that you hear often on the radio
day 18 – a song that you wish you heard on the radio
day 19 – a song from your favorite album
day 20 – a song that you listen to when you’re angry
day 21 – a song that you listen to when you’re happy
day 22 – a song that you listen to when you’re sad
day 23 – a song that you want to play at your wedding
day 24 – a song that you want to play at your funeral
day 25 – a song that makes you laugh
day 26 – a song that you can play on an instrument
day 27 – a song that you wish you could play
day 28 – a song that makes you feel guilty
day 29 – a song from your childhood
day 30 – your favorite song at this time last year
I think Mr Gillen is on the right track taking these out of order, and also linking to them as he does them. We’ll bloody see, won’t we?
@giagia Problematically, that film spunks it all in the last ten minutes with a "well, he WAS mental, after all" get-out. I feel your pain. in reply to giagia2 days ago
