Wading in the Velvet Sea

What the Cluck?

This week’s flashback centered around Hurley’s complication relationship with not only The Numbers, but with his father as well, making Hurley only the 400th Lostaway with Daddy issues. I know there aren’t 400 Lostaways, but if 400 people had in fact survived Oceanic 815’s crash, they all would be revealed to have been left in the playground at age eight never to see their dear Papa again. I’m wondering if The Hanso Foundation in fact founded “The DADDY Initiative”, and The Others merely changed the letters around after the fact to throw us all off.

Hurley’s relationship with his father was only narratively important to drive home the following point, uttered by Hurley’s dad in the initial flashback: “In this world, you gotta make your own luck.” It’s yet another of “Lost”’s examination of the eternal struggle between free will and determinism. Hurley’s viewpoint is passive: his is cursed. Passive tense verb there. Hurley’s dad insists upon active participation in the world around him. In his eyes, Hurley’s attitude reflects the negative events in his life. In short, a meteor hit Mr. Cluck’s mainly due to Hurley’s subliminal notion that something bad was going to happen to his franchise. The lesson, as always, is never set up a franchise of any sort near Smallville. That was Hurley’s big mistake there.

Van Overboard

Cheech Marin’s other line of import lay in his final scene, in which he tells Hurley, “Its never too late for a fresh start.” He may have been talking about their estranged relationship, but he also could have been talking about Hurley’s (and indeed, the Lostaways’) need for hope. As mentioned before, this season’s big one ginormous kick in the collective balls for the survivors of Oceanic 815. Sawyer’s assertion that no hope lay in the island easily could have been said by any Lostaway, except Paolo, who I keep hoping just walks off a cliff. Hurley’s fresh start at first reeked of last season’s episode involving Bernard’s building of an “SOS” sign (right down to Jin being the only one who volunteered), but in fact turned into a purgation, albeit small, for several of the characters we’ve followed for the past three seasons.

And in those scenes, with Hurley/Jin/Sawyer, and later Charlie, did many of us finally recognize the pre-hatch version of “Lost”. The one that focused on character, focused on humanity, focused on people in an extraordinary circumstance relying on each other. The way Hurley and Jin greeted the returning Sawyer was the most heartfelt moment the show’s achieved this year, and it was achieved not through excellent writing, shocking plot points, or dramatic scenery, but just by staying true to characters we’ve grown attached to as audience members for the past few years. Scenes like this are where long-form narrative shows blow your “Law and Order” out of the water, and shows why people have been frustrated with Season 3 so far: we don’t care nearly as much about Juliet and Tom and Ben as we do about the four guys paying homage to “Little Miss Sunshine” in the middle of a jungle. Nothing against the people playing The Others, but our affection hasn’t been earned yet on their behalves. But Sawyer spitting Hurley’s hair out his mouth during an overenthusiastic hug? Priceless.

I’ve Got My Mind Set on You

In addition to the free will/determinism debate addressed in this episode, the notion of “mind over matter” came to the forefront once again tonight in Hurley’s starting of the van during his descent of doom. One could easily see the car starting as basic mechanics reaching a successful conclusion, but one could ALSO hypothesize that Hurley himself made the car start, not simply through his actions, but through his emotions.

In my podcast this past weekend, I talked about the prevailing theories among many “Lost” fans that there’s something akin to “wish granting” that occurs on the island. This assumes some living entity, not necessarily corporeal, that contains the intelligence and the resources necessary in order to provide things for those who want them badly enough. In Season 1, Charlie gets his guitar from the trees after giving up heroin. Various characters have “found” items on the island that have particular meaning to them. Given the parapsychology aspects of The Dharma Initiative, coupled with the unique if undefined energy of the island, it’s not impossible to suggest that certain things happen through sheer exertion of willpower alone.

Tying back to Eko’s death: “Yemi”, aka, The Smoke Monster, aka, possible voice of this “undefined energy” I’m postulating, asks Eko to confess his sins before death. Eko does not confess, and is promptly slapped around like so much wet trout at fish markets. Hurley et al have been suffering from their own sin: the sin of despair. The Island provided the one person who could spread cheer better than anyone the means to confront this sin, all the while “encouraging” flashbacks to his father, all the while directing him to a jungle-based laboratory through which this character, and others, could get what they wanted if only their confessed their sins. And how did the Island do that?

Because the Island also speaks through Vincent.

The (Vincent) Price is Right

When all is said and done, we’re going to look back at the first minute of the pilot episode in “Lost” and go, “Oooooooooh.” Seriously. The first person we see on the show? Jack. The second thing we see overall? Vincent. Coming out of the woods. And what does he do? Leads Jack directly to the fuselage. Very first thing Vincent does! And throughout the show, he’s shown up at really, really interesting (read: important) moments of the show, not unlike heavy rainstorms have made conspicuous appearances at times of heightened dramatic tension. Tie in two of the six Dharma projects (zoology and meteorology) and you have a tenuous but plausible theory.

So, what purpose could Vincent serve? Perhaps as a mouthpiece for the Island, just as rainstorms are a non-verbal commentary on the actions at hand. Just as an 8-track tape in a van in the middle of a jungle could play the exact same song Hurley heard just before his father abandoned him. These are all shortcuts/replacements/runarounds for actual dialogue, but are forms of communication nonetheless. Dharma’s heightened sense of symbols emphasizes this non-lingual form of communication. But as pre/postlingual objects, symbols are subject to the interpretation of the viewer. Just as the island communicates differently with each Lostaway. Just as John Locke can see the “monster” as both a bright white light AND a dark cloud of smoke. Just as everyone sees a car where Hurley sees hope.

***

All in all, a welcome breath of fresh air, as mentioned before. I didn’t even get to the man inside the van, the piece of paper we caught a fleeting glimpse of near his detached skull, or the return of everyone’s favorite batshit insane French woman. But I can leave all that to the podcast this Sunday.

What did you all think? Leave your comments below!