Lost Rewatch: Walkabout

 

Before I begin, some cultural sidenotes about Lost’s place in the zeitgeist.

In January of 2010, the now  departed Entertainment Weekly published an extended article about the 100 greatest pop culture characters in the last twenty years. This included movies, books, TV, comic books and in some cases music with some crossover. Hannibal Lecter was listed in reference to Silence of The Lambs, The Joker in reference to The Dark Knight. On this list were at least twenty TV characters. Some were icons who had been far back as the 1990s (Homer Simpson, Mulder Scully). Many of them were the lead characters of the new Golden Age (Tony Soprano, Don Draper, Vic Mackey) Some were supporting characters (Omar Little from The Wire; Sue Sylvester from Glee). And some were just nice bonuses – I remember how glad I was to see Patty Hewes, the cutthroat attorney from Damages competing with all those antiheroes. To be sure, there were some obvious exclusions -  people were irked that neither Al Swearengen nor Walter White were there, but I had few complaints. Particularly that alongside all of these was no one less than John Locke. Even after all this time and all of the vituperation that went on against the series in the aftermath of the series finale, no one ever denied that anything involved Locke was a problem with the series. I don’t think any viewer would disagree.

The other note comes from Alan Sepinwall’s classic tome of the Golden Age of Television: The Revolution Was Televised (which anyone who loves TV or even likes it a little should read if they want an understanding and appreciation of the series of this era.) In his chapter on Lost, he refers to the revelation at the end of this episode as being to the series what the murder of Febby Petrullo, the rat that Tony Soprano kills in the ‘College’ episode of The Sopranos.

Rather than debate the effect either episode had on either series or the viewing public at the time, I’d actually like to focus on the respective effects each had on me. I didn’t see either of the first seasons on these shows when they first aired but I spent so little time on the Internet or attuned to most television that when I did see both episodes I was unaware of why they were important, so my reactions were not impugned by spoilers.

Now I’ll admit the death of Petrullo did not have the same impact on me as some of the other episode of the first season, by this time in my young career I had already watched quite a bit of both Oz and Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Sepinwall recognizes both shows as vital to the revolution The Sopranos officially started) and was inured to both the surprising, even violent deaths of characters or those at the hands of characters we had come to consider trustworthy. (I honestly thinks Faith’s accidental murder of the Deputy Mayor on Buffy had a greater impact on me at the time.) The final two minutes of this episode, however, had a completely different effect. At this point in my viewing, I was still questioning whether I was going to stick with the series when it returned for Season 2 in the fall. After it ended, I remember saying to myself: “I’m in.” And for the rest of the season – and indeed, the entire series – I was ride or die.

Before we get to that last two minutes (and we will) this episode is our official introduction to Locke. To this point, he seemed detached from everything that is going on. Most of the characters have been concentrating on the constant shift from crisis, but Locke seems unaffected by it. It is possible that those who are thinking about it are dismissing it as PTSD (when Jack tells Rose that’s what she is going through, she gently reminds him: “Aren’t we all?”) and those who haven’t such as Michael either dislike him or think he’s crazy. Walt alone is the only not inclined to dismiss him outright and that’s because Locke has treated him with respect. This episode is our introduction to Locke both on the island and off.

Throughout the series Locke will be a divisive figure on the island, someone who never seems fully trusted by anyone. Much of this behavior Locke will (deservedly) bring upon himself, but it’s worth noting that even in the early stages, no one seems willing to trust him readily. In the midst of the crisis for food, Locke offers everybody a solution that is viable, telling them exactly what they’re going to have to do for food and how they can do it. When Sawyer is inclined to dismiss this plan and Locke shows how they can work around it, no one seems notably overjoyed.  While there’s an implied bigotry in place as to why people prefer Jack’s leadership over Sayid, we never get an explanation as to why even from the start, no one wants to willingly listen to Locke or follow him – Kate admits to Jack that her motive to go on the boar hunt is to help Sayid, and I can’t help but think Michael’s decision to go with Locke, who he has already developed a disdain for, is done more to curry favor with Walt than any desire to go with him. Locke may fall away from the group for his own purposes, but its clear early on that few people want him to stay, no matter how many times in Season 1 in particular he will prove how valuable he can be. It’s worth noting that Locke never seems to mind this fact that much, and as we will soon learn, it’s because whenever he gives his trust, it always end up costing him tremendously. Like everyone else on the island, his fundamental flaw will end up just as costly here.

Along from Locke, almost every other character is dealing with faith.  Sayid is trying his hardest to get off the island even more than Kate, and while we are still unclear why, in a small moment whose importance will become very clear, we get a hint as to what he might be trying to get off the island for.  Kate is determined to find rescue and tries to urge Sayid to find faith in the face of major setbacks. Claire, who at this point, is still vaguely realized is trying to use faith in a very direct way. In the aftermath of Jack’s unilateral decision to burn the bodies in the fuselage (something, for the record, Hurley thought needed to be done in the Pilot and is only being dealt with when Jack orders it), Claire decides to put together a memorial service for the people who have died. In a moment of character development that will sadly be lacking for her the majority of the series’ run, Claire’s presence manages to bring together a spirit of unity towards the island – even Sawyer shame-facedly is willing to contribute to her efforts. And for the first time we have a real conversation with Rose, who will end up being one of the most important non-regulars on the show.  Jack seems to think she is struggling with the death of her husband, but in a major shock to him, she tells him that Bernard is still alive, in spite of the evidence. Though we may be inclined to dismiss this as shock, Rose’s faith will end up being proven in a major story arc to come and in one of the few purely happy stories in this entire series.

Jack is struggling with his faith, but its pretty clear that it’s in himself. For someone who seems to be fine with making unilateral decisions, he is chafing not only when they are questioned but when any other burden is placed upon him. Already it is clear that he is flawed when it comes to human relations, and that he comes to Rose because Boone reminds him he saved Rose’s life, and this is essentially follow-up care. Rose will always be one of Jack’s biggest supporters as well as the person on the island capable of getting the most honest responses from most people, usually without them even meaning it.  She tells him he has a good soul, and that must be why he became a doctor. Jack says that’s not the case – “it was the family business.” In retrospect, he’s basically telling us everything about the flashbacks we’ll see about him in the next two seasons (starting with the next episode)

Locke’s faith is different. As we see in his flashback, it is based in the idea of ‘destiny’. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” is Locke’s catchphrase: we hear it no less than three times in this episode alone.  Considering how much Locke believes in destiny, his choice of phrase is interesting – it would seem to be that of a man arguing that destiny is essentially what you make it. That is the contradiction of Locke: he knows he has a destiny, and in a sense the obstacles that are keeping him from them are not obstacles.

But then, when you see the last two minutes of Lost, everyone understands why.  After more than half a dozen rewatches over the years, I admit  when we learn Locke was in a wheelchair before the crash has lost its ability to surprise, though its emotional power remains. But the moments that follow will never lose their power to move, and that is essentially because of the incredible ability of Terry O’Quinn. This entire episode is the first example of the master class he will give throughout the show (both he and the episode itself were deservedly nominated for Emmys that year) and as brilliant as his acting is throughout the episode, the last two minutes are perfect in every way. Without a single word, we watch Locke as the realization of what has happened to him dawn on him. Slowly he gets to his feet, an expression of astonishment and awe on them. Carefully he gets up, then lowers himself to his knees in a gesture of infinite gratitude to a power he does not comprehend yet (and may never) but can not help be loyal to. Then he stands slowly, and with confidence moves towards Jack to begin his new life. And in the present, we see him watch the wheelchair that defined his existence before he came to the island go up in flames with none of the survivors the wiser about who it belong too. My devotion to this series from this point is just as reasonable as Locke’s allegiance to the island: after seeing what it was capable of, who wouldn’t be?