As I am in the process
of starting JJ Abram's infamous project LOST (thank you Mr.
Fortunato, Mom and friends, and the entire rest of the world) I figured it
might be best to blog about it. So let's just kick this off with one of my
favorite (as of Episode 3) blatantly obvious character and symbol.
John Locke (aptly named,
as my mother oh so constantly reassures me) is, for starters, quiet. And I’m
not talking we just crashed on a deserted
island holy crap shocked sort of quiet; no, this is full-on morally
ambiguous, potentially a massive
villain quiet. He speaks to absolutely no one for a full episode—and, by the
passage of time as we know it, a full day. His plane has crashed, there are (at
minimum) dozens dead, and he could be stranded on this island for the rest of
his life, and yet John is not fazed.
In part one of the
phenomenon’s pilot, the island is drenched in an unexpected torrential downpour
and the other survivors—still desperately hoping for rescue—seek refuge under
the wreckage. Not John—of course not, right?—no, instead, the ever silent,
eye-scarred, bald man plants himself in the middle of the beach sand and waits—rain
washing over him. Is it a cleansing? Maybe, but I sort of doubt it. Cleansings
don’t typically involve beach sand sticky with blood and fresh tears. They don’t
involve a borderline maniacal smile and calm acceptance. No, cleansings are
typically all grit and pain and fighting—a walk through the rain, yes, but one
that leaves them more worn for the wear despite rejuvenation. But if not a
cleansing, what is it? A descent into darkness? (No, that title falls to
ex-rocker Charlie. But he’s another blog on his own.) To be completely honest,
I’m not entirely sure what the rain
means, except that John Locke is not at all what we expect—and he’ll stay that
way until the end.
Moving onward to part
two of the pilot, though, we see something even more interesting in the
(undoubtedly extensive) novel that is John Locke—his first choice of companions
is a 10 year old boy named Walter. It’s safe to say that Walter has daddy
issues, complete with a lost dog and multiple spats that end in preadolescent
rage-quits, which leaves him an open, easy target for another male role model.
If we can even call John that. And it all starts with backgammon: “two players,
one is light and one is dark” (Episode 2). And in that moment, with John
providing both knowledge (starting with pointing out that backgammon is highly
superior to checkers) and a secret, we see what is the first, though
undoubtedly not the last, loss of innocence.
But of course we have
yet to find out what the secret is.
So what, though? Why did
JJ Abrams spend so much of his time putting details into this one character?
Why waste hours on deciding how the camera pans over the rainy beach and the
exact placement of John’s scar? The best and only answer I have as a newfound
viewer is this: John Locke’s roll in LOST
is far from small, direct, or easily
followed—and Abrams just wanted to give us a little heads up. How considerate
of him.
