Tabula Rasa/Walkabout: Flashing back all over the place
Sept 21, 2014 22:30:34 GMT -5
Roy Batty's Pet Dove, Pear, and 1 more like this
Post by Arthur Dent on Sept 21, 2014 22:30:34 GMT -5
"And hope is a very dangerous thing to lose."
Tabula Rasa:
Aw, fuck, I may just be starting to like this show. That final sequence with the music playing as the camera panned across the beach, showing, among other things, Walt reuniting with his dog and Sayid tossing an apple to Sawyer as a gesture of peace, really got to me, until it was undercut by the annoying, ominous cut to Locke as the music changed, right before cutting to black. Everything that has transpired in the three episodes leading up to this fleeting moment of peace already gives a sense of foreboding hanging over it, making that part tremendously unnecessary.*
*Although Locke being a foreboding symbol taking away from a happy moment of the show is apt given the second half of this post.
Although there is still plenty of room for criticism, it is true that the series is starting to win me over, piece by piece, at it moves away from the bloated pilot and narrows itself to focusing largely on a four-pronged conflict of individuals, in turn finding itself a much more workable pace to move along at. Even Giacchino's score is slowly winning me over, working well to set moods and complement rising tensions in the opening sequence of Jack and Hurley finding Kate's mugshot, or Kate saving the Australian man from his burning vehicle and getting caught by Marshall Mars, albeit still being pointless and distracting in others, particularly during Mars' failed attack on Kate early in the episode. Alluding to these various pieces of the episode point to its clear focal point, the fugitive from justice, what for being still unknown, named Kate Austen. That is unfortunately the most apt way to describe her, as she remains far too broadly defined, only now it's as a desperate fugitive rather than whatever she was in the pilot. Her flatly and plainly stating "I have trust issues" in those exact words hardly pushes her away from being painted in broad strokes, and serves as a reminder that the dialogue remains varying between weakly serviceable and outright bad.
That said, this episode certainly maintains the potential for her at this early stage, providing new shading with her compassion for the Australian and willingness to let Sawyer perform the mercy kill he thoroughly believes in, rather than kill Mars and pretend she isn't doing it to save her own skin. That centerpiece of the episode, Kate and the other characters struggling internally and between each other over Mars' state and Kate's past, isn't overly fascinating and its resolution is a mess, but it's a solid place to start. I would jump at the bit to accuse the show of being full of shit and not committing by not having Kate smother Mars at her first opportunity, were it not for the great beats they manage to draw out of that. Her talking to him in the tent that night, which gives us both him begging for mercy and the aforementioned compassion for the man that gave her refuge, along with Sawyer being given the gun and immediately shooting him, in perfect demonstration of his character in much stronger, more interesting form than the racist pest of the pilot, these are some of the show's strongest moments so far. They also help to smooth over this impeccably messy methodology, including Sawyer inexplicably trying to kill Mars by trying to shoot him in the heart, a seemingly pointless extra wrinkle that was as enraging as, if not more so than, the initial not having Kate kill Mars, to get to the final great beat of Jack being forced to kill him, and doing so quickly and instinctively.
As much as that beat partly helps to hopefully put Jack on track to be a more engaging character in the long run, for most of the episode he continues to be annoying and an overly apparent protagonist, being self-righteous to Sawyer for totally reasonably scrounging amidst the wreckage, and serving as a blatant author's thematic mouthpiece in the philosophy he espouses to Kate when she offers to tell him why she's on the run. The ideals themselves, on the other hand, clumsily expressed as they are, are moving and perfectly fitting to the promise for the ongoing story as offered by this episode.
"We should all be able to start over."
Side Observations:
* The replay of the flashback from the pilot, to remind viewers of Kate's line to Mars right before he's hit by the suitcase, pisses me off to no end. This was excessive talking down to the audience on par with the Wire's pilot flashback, and even that one is more understandable given how overwhelming/disorienting The Wire can be when one first experiences it.
Going of that, the recounting of events from the pilot for other castmembers and the audience was groan-worthingly unnecessary, but at least managed to feel relatively organic in terms of the character interactions.
Of the attempts at quieter scenes with Michael, Sun and Jin, Michael walking in on Sun, at least, felt completely unnecessary, especially if it's meant to create some sort of artificial tension between the two in their later interactions.
Walkabout:
In stark contrast to my sentiment that started the first half of this post, I want to say something right now: Fuck John Locke, fuck that arrogant, posturing, self-important attitude of his, fuck that stupid mantra. I like the rest of this episode well enough, but I do not find him compelling whatsoever. Is his coworker an equally unpleasant douchebag, who treats him unfairly, sure, but that doesn't mean that Locke's really any better. He's an utterly regular person that is immensely bored and has chosen to delude himself into feeling special rather than making it happen for himself. He prattles on about his destiny even while he never tried to make his own. His only modes of feeling are impotent rage and ego trips, and he's clearly never grown past whatever event paralyzed him and robbed him of his dreams. And that admittedly could be tragic, if it didn't seem like he had never strived for his dreams prior to this incident, and turned to cursing the world and everyone around him for the 'unfairness' of it all. If this series is supposed to be about how we choose to define ourselves in response to tragedies, then why have a thematically and narratively central figure that allowed themselves to be run roughshod by their tragedy, defined solely by it, while being thoroughly nondynamic?
It is valid to have at least one character for whom the Island is a preferable prospect, but this is not a method to play into that idea that I find at all empathetic, this notion of allowing a deluded asshole to live out his hunter fantasies. The quiet, wonderfully understated scene where Sayid is returned the picture of someone important, whoever it may be, works so much better than Locke staring at his burning wheelchair. It is even more remarkable and hits all the harder for the sheer brevity of Sayid staring longingly before cutting away. Sayid generally stands out so much better than the obnoxious Locke, as a passionate, but thoughtful and strategic, strong-willed but calm, soldier who carries himself with a sad sort of weariness. Naveen Andrews' pained and sincere delivery of "I thought I lost this. Thank you," is great. Even Shannon has an intriguing character beat in this episode, with her conviction that she has proven she can fend for herself when she's had Charlie catch a fish for her suggesting a warped mindset, the source of which having endless possibilities.
All of that being said about the Locke plotline, the rest of the episode is solid, dragged down solely by this that is clearly meant as the heart of the episode. Jack speaks sense for the first time at the beginning, arguing with the others about the necessity of burning the bodies in the fuselage, which in turn inspires the positively beautiful final sequence of the episode, with Claire using what little information available to the group to mourn their fellow passengers they never got the chance to know. This creates a great sense of the formation of a community forced by circumstances, as Sun watches over Walt while his father is involved in the hunt, and Jack reluctantly tries to counsel Rose, who clings to fearing for her husband because, as Sayid asserted in the previous episode, "Hope is a very dangerous thing to lose." You cannot lose hope entirely, and while you can't afford to not have any pragmatism either, Jack was right to order what he did, and you cannot be absorbed wholly by anything, including someone who is no longer around, you cannot forget those that are gone either, certainly not in the wake of the crash that unites them all.
Grades: B/B-
Next week, or rather this Friday, Jack goes down the rabbit hole and we see the past of Sun and Jin's marriage.
Side Observations:
I'm sorry for all the negativity in the Walkabout review. It definitely goes beyond my critical opinion and analysis and into my raw feelings instigated by the episode. By all means, if I'm being an asshole, unsympathetic towards anyone in a way I try never to be, tell me so.
Tabula Rasa:
Aw, fuck, I may just be starting to like this show. That final sequence with the music playing as the camera panned across the beach, showing, among other things, Walt reuniting with his dog and Sayid tossing an apple to Sawyer as a gesture of peace, really got to me, until it was undercut by the annoying, ominous cut to Locke as the music changed, right before cutting to black. Everything that has transpired in the three episodes leading up to this fleeting moment of peace already gives a sense of foreboding hanging over it, making that part tremendously unnecessary.*
*Although Locke being a foreboding symbol taking away from a happy moment of the show is apt given the second half of this post.
Although there is still plenty of room for criticism, it is true that the series is starting to win me over, piece by piece, at it moves away from the bloated pilot and narrows itself to focusing largely on a four-pronged conflict of individuals, in turn finding itself a much more workable pace to move along at. Even Giacchino's score is slowly winning me over, working well to set moods and complement rising tensions in the opening sequence of Jack and Hurley finding Kate's mugshot, or Kate saving the Australian man from his burning vehicle and getting caught by Marshall Mars, albeit still being pointless and distracting in others, particularly during Mars' failed attack on Kate early in the episode. Alluding to these various pieces of the episode point to its clear focal point, the fugitive from justice, what for being still unknown, named Kate Austen. That is unfortunately the most apt way to describe her, as she remains far too broadly defined, only now it's as a desperate fugitive rather than whatever she was in the pilot. Her flatly and plainly stating "I have trust issues" in those exact words hardly pushes her away from being painted in broad strokes, and serves as a reminder that the dialogue remains varying between weakly serviceable and outright bad.
That said, this episode certainly maintains the potential for her at this early stage, providing new shading with her compassion for the Australian and willingness to let Sawyer perform the mercy kill he thoroughly believes in, rather than kill Mars and pretend she isn't doing it to save her own skin. That centerpiece of the episode, Kate and the other characters struggling internally and between each other over Mars' state and Kate's past, isn't overly fascinating and its resolution is a mess, but it's a solid place to start. I would jump at the bit to accuse the show of being full of shit and not committing by not having Kate smother Mars at her first opportunity, were it not for the great beats they manage to draw out of that. Her talking to him in the tent that night, which gives us both him begging for mercy and the aforementioned compassion for the man that gave her refuge, along with Sawyer being given the gun and immediately shooting him, in perfect demonstration of his character in much stronger, more interesting form than the racist pest of the pilot, these are some of the show's strongest moments so far. They also help to smooth over this impeccably messy methodology, including Sawyer inexplicably trying to kill Mars by trying to shoot him in the heart, a seemingly pointless extra wrinkle that was as enraging as, if not more so than, the initial not having Kate kill Mars, to get to the final great beat of Jack being forced to kill him, and doing so quickly and instinctively.
As much as that beat partly helps to hopefully put Jack on track to be a more engaging character in the long run, for most of the episode he continues to be annoying and an overly apparent protagonist, being self-righteous to Sawyer for totally reasonably scrounging amidst the wreckage, and serving as a blatant author's thematic mouthpiece in the philosophy he espouses to Kate when she offers to tell him why she's on the run. The ideals themselves, on the other hand, clumsily expressed as they are, are moving and perfectly fitting to the promise for the ongoing story as offered by this episode.
"We should all be able to start over."
Side Observations:
* The replay of the flashback from the pilot, to remind viewers of Kate's line to Mars right before he's hit by the suitcase, pisses me off to no end. This was excessive talking down to the audience on par with the Wire's pilot flashback, and even that one is more understandable given how overwhelming/disorienting The Wire can be when one first experiences it.
Going of that, the recounting of events from the pilot for other castmembers and the audience was groan-worthingly unnecessary, but at least managed to feel relatively organic in terms of the character interactions.
Of the attempts at quieter scenes with Michael, Sun and Jin, Michael walking in on Sun, at least, felt completely unnecessary, especially if it's meant to create some sort of artificial tension between the two in their later interactions.
Walkabout:
In stark contrast to my sentiment that started the first half of this post, I want to say something right now: Fuck John Locke, fuck that arrogant, posturing, self-important attitude of his, fuck that stupid mantra. I like the rest of this episode well enough, but I do not find him compelling whatsoever. Is his coworker an equally unpleasant douchebag, who treats him unfairly, sure, but that doesn't mean that Locke's really any better. He's an utterly regular person that is immensely bored and has chosen to delude himself into feeling special rather than making it happen for himself. He prattles on about his destiny even while he never tried to make his own. His only modes of feeling are impotent rage and ego trips, and he's clearly never grown past whatever event paralyzed him and robbed him of his dreams. And that admittedly could be tragic, if it didn't seem like he had never strived for his dreams prior to this incident, and turned to cursing the world and everyone around him for the 'unfairness' of it all. If this series is supposed to be about how we choose to define ourselves in response to tragedies, then why have a thematically and narratively central figure that allowed themselves to be run roughshod by their tragedy, defined solely by it, while being thoroughly nondynamic?
It is valid to have at least one character for whom the Island is a preferable prospect, but this is not a method to play into that idea that I find at all empathetic, this notion of allowing a deluded asshole to live out his hunter fantasies. The quiet, wonderfully understated scene where Sayid is returned the picture of someone important, whoever it may be, works so much better than Locke staring at his burning wheelchair. It is even more remarkable and hits all the harder for the sheer brevity of Sayid staring longingly before cutting away. Sayid generally stands out so much better than the obnoxious Locke, as a passionate, but thoughtful and strategic, strong-willed but calm, soldier who carries himself with a sad sort of weariness. Naveen Andrews' pained and sincere delivery of "I thought I lost this. Thank you," is great. Even Shannon has an intriguing character beat in this episode, with her conviction that she has proven she can fend for herself when she's had Charlie catch a fish for her suggesting a warped mindset, the source of which having endless possibilities.
All of that being said about the Locke plotline, the rest of the episode is solid, dragged down solely by this that is clearly meant as the heart of the episode. Jack speaks sense for the first time at the beginning, arguing with the others about the necessity of burning the bodies in the fuselage, which in turn inspires the positively beautiful final sequence of the episode, with Claire using what little information available to the group to mourn their fellow passengers they never got the chance to know. This creates a great sense of the formation of a community forced by circumstances, as Sun watches over Walt while his father is involved in the hunt, and Jack reluctantly tries to counsel Rose, who clings to fearing for her husband because, as Sayid asserted in the previous episode, "Hope is a very dangerous thing to lose." You cannot lose hope entirely, and while you can't afford to not have any pragmatism either, Jack was right to order what he did, and you cannot be absorbed wholly by anything, including someone who is no longer around, you cannot forget those that are gone either, certainly not in the wake of the crash that unites them all.
Grades: B/B-
Next week, or rather this Friday, Jack goes down the rabbit hole and we see the past of Sun and Jin's marriage.
Side Observations:
I'm sorry for all the negativity in the Walkabout review. It definitely goes beyond my critical opinion and analysis and into my raw feelings instigated by the episode. By all means, if I'm being an asshole, unsympathetic towards anyone in a way I try never to be, tell me so.
