Posts Tagged ‘Jack and Kate’

Getting Lost (Redux): Through The Looking Glass

So when did you catch on? “Through the Looking Glass” is probably the most pivotal episode in Lost’s history—the point where the question changed from who these people had been to where these people were going. We open on Jack—a bearded Jack—on a plane, heading back to Los Angeles. It’s a familiar feeling, of course, but something is different, and not just facial hair.

No, we’ve jumped three years into the future, and now we’re not just seeing a Jack dealing with spinal surgeries, divorces, and bad dads—we see a Jack who is permanently scarred from what went down on the Island. After the flight attendant gives him a newspaper instead of a drink, he sees something—which we later find out is an obituary—that causes him to drive to an overpass with the intention of jumping off. Before he brings himself to jump, though, a car crashes nearby, and Jack’s hero-complex kicks in, as he saves the victims. Continue reading

Getting Lost (Redux): Pilot

There’s no doubt that a large reason for Lost’s initial success was its impressive pilot. Directed by J.J. Abrams, the first episode of Lost has both the intense feel of an action movie, and the enticing suspense of the first chapter of a mystery novel.

So many images from the pilot are obviously memorable. The opening shot of Jack’s eye, the sight of a pregnant Claire on the beach, the scene in which Kate stitches up Jack’s wound, and so many others have become burnt into Lost lore. The episode is stunningly visual—the first line of dialogue (aside from screams and cries for help, of course) doesn’t come until almost five minutes in, when Jacks asks Claire how many months pregnant she is. This comes amidst the famous opening sequence of Jack pulling bodies from the wreckage.

What stands out about these opening scenes, looking back, is how the priority of characters has changed. We see a lot of Michael, Walt, Shannon, and Boone, but Sawyer and Locke don’t even speak in the first hour. Even Vincent the dog seems more important than they do.

This is not to say that the writers and producers didn’t know what they were doing—just that the story they were setting up was clearly very deep. In fact, Abrams’ direction is impressive in its ability to capture the core of characters in single shots. Whether it’s something easy and simple, like Shannon painting her toenails on the beach, something obviously important but cryptic, like Locke sitting on the beach as the rain begins to fall, or something subtly telling, like Sawyer’s silent self-loathing as he smokes a cigarette, it’s clear that there is a very defined view of all these characters.* Continue reading