Musings on Lost S6E16 What They Died For

This is your captain speaking. We are now approaching our final Lost destination, and have commenced our descent. Please ensure you have fastened your seat belt, and that your seat is returned to its full, upright position. Thank you for flying Oceanic.

And so we have nearlyarrived, all that remains now is the mega two and a half hour finale. 'What They Died For' fully surpassed my expectations of a finale set up episode. In fact, it felt like a whistle stop tour encapsulating all that we love about Lost. There was humour, character development, mythology, twists, action and of course, death.

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right....

How many epic lines were there in this episode? Maybe I'm just getting a bit nostalgic, what with the end looming and all, but there were ironic, acerbic and knowing zingers flying left, right and centre. A fair few came from Ben after reverting to his creepy season 3 self after aligning with Flocke. The deadpan delivery of "can I get you a glass of lemonade?" to Flocke on the porch, and then of course his give-up of Widmore (glad him and Zoe finally joined the death club) - "He's hiding in my closet". This is the return of the Ben we all know and love, man behind the curtain Ben, which makes me think he's now one step ahead of Flocke and playing a Sawyer-esque long con. The writers have gone to such lengths to redeem Ben and make him a sympathetic character, that I seriously doubt they're going to throw it all away just to make him MIB's 2nd in command.

Sawyer also chimed in with his excellent appraisal of Jack taking on his island duties "and I thought that guy had a God complex before...."

Kudos to the writers for injecting what could have been an overly serious episode with a bit of light (maybe from the pee cave!).

Everything is broken, everyone is broken....

So the remaining 4 candidates finally got some camp fire quality time with Jacob. No Kumbaya though, just honesty and answers. You were brought here because you were broken, BAM! Kate's name was crossed out because she became a mother, BAM! You have to choose between yourselves who gets the big job, BAM! It was all laid out, right in front of us, and as 90% of the viewing public might might have guessed, Jack volunteered his services. He has been the leader since day one, our good Sheppard, and to me there was only ever one real candidate.

They call me the seeker, I've been searching low and high....

In the flash sideways, Desmond continued his greatest hits tour of Lost Alumni, laying a smackdown on Ben, garnering a criminal record with Sawyer, and co-ordinating a jail break with Ana-Lucia. I never really got the hate for her character, sure she was a bitch, but she was also complicated and badass. At least she got one of the most surprising deaths on the show.

How cool was Jack and Locke's chat? Loved all the throwbacks to previous episodes, and once again Terry O'Quinn showcased his awesome acting chops, showing Locke to be vulnerable, hopeful and repentant. Will Locke finally get to go on that walkabout?

I have no idea what's going to transpire in the flash sideways, Desmond could kill all the Losties with a bomb at the concert (God, not another bomb!) to reset the timeline, or he could make them fully 'aware' and they then choose which existence they want. It's getting very interesting in the alt, and I'm deeply curious to see how it turns out.

OK, it's predictions time. So close to the finale, I'm laying it on the line with my expectations for the remaining on island characters, starting with Mr James Ford.

Sawyer's going out with a sacrifice, much the same as he did with his helicopter jump in season 4, probably in an attempt to save Kate. Mr Ford does love the ladies after all. He's island casualty number 1, along with....

Kate. She always gets herself in to trouble doesn't she, tagging along and then being kidnapped! Freckles did great to make it this far, and I'm gonna miss the best female island totty, but Kate and Sawyer are going down together.

Mr Hume is on a collision course with the glowing pee cave. I'm guessing Flocke wants to trick Des in to entering the cave (using his immunity to electromagnetism) to 'turn out the light' (maybe it's even on a clapper). Won't happen though, because here to unexpectedly save the day is....

Benjamin Linus. He'll turn on Smokey when he least expects it and kill his ass, probably with that ancient dagger. Ben is now fully redeemed, plus it would be kinda cool if he killed both Jacob and MIB.

Jack will remain as the island protector, probably keeping Des around as his right hand man (possibly a 'white smoke monster', or would that be too cheesy????), or his...

Alpert. Richard's going to get the one thing he really wants - death, and will consequently be reunited with his beloved Isabella. All that leaves is...

Hurley. The one truly good and pure person, he has no reason to die and no reason to stay. He'll be the only one of the final Losties to leave the island for good. Oops, almost forgot about Miles! He made a pretty cool duo with Hurley, maybe they'll leave together?

Like a speeding freight train, Lost is hurtling along to its final conclusion. Jack is now at the controls, having accepted the mantle of island protector from a soon to flicker out Jacob, and he's dead set on his final destination - a showdown with Flocke. I'm fully expecting two and a half hours of awesomeness, and I don't think I'm gonna be disappointed.

I love Boston Terriers, but I couldn't eat a whole one....

For anyone looking to add a constant source of amusement to their lives, I thoroughly recommend a Boston Terrier. The deal also comes with obsessive paddle tongue licking, frequent flatulence and nasal vibrations that set off car alarms, but hey, even iphones come with hefty contracts, right?

Reprobate No.1 - Bosley:

AKA Boss Hogg, Senor Egg Butt, Snickle Potty Hump, Ned Noodle, The Black and White Bandit, Sad Sac, Crazy No.1, Bubbs, Penfold, Strange Botwin and Piggy Pants to name but a few.

Bosley's highlights include pinching food from unsuspecting toddlers (they're just the right height, and those pudgy digits equate to a poor biscuit grip), bum scooting (definition: when a canine's rear legs accelerate faster than the front legs, resulting in the posterior 'scooting' across the floorspace) and once yakking up roughly a whole carton of goats milk on someone's carpet.

He's the dog of a thousand expressions, most of them falling in to the grumpy old man spectrum and is frequently compared to a cat, a rabbit, a frog and 'that dog from Men in Black'.

Reprobate No.2 - Otto

AKA Maus, Otto Octavius, Otto Pants, Crazy No.2, Devil Mouse, Danger Mouse, Mauskavic, Stupid, err, ok, not as many as Bos, but Bos has got 3 years on Otto!

Otto's highlights include suckling / crying in to his stuffed snowflake (and eventually falling asleep standing up, snowflake still wedged in jaw), launching himself at seated guests with less regard for his safety than Johnny Knoxville and running through the park with a Frisbee looped over his head. At seven months old he still neglects to learn what 'no' means, terrorizes his older brother, and gives awesome high-fives.

These are our two boys. They provide us with endless entertainment, they wrench our lazy arses off the sofa and in to the park. Bosley and Otto, we salute you. Viva la Boston Terrier!

Musings on Lost S6E15 Across The Sea

Hmmmm, this could go down as one of the most polarizing episodes of Lost ever. Personally, I found it very much a mixed bag of mythological treats, hard to swallow child acting (I'm looking at you, young Jacob) and sickly sweet Disney-esque 'magical light'.

Here's the good shit:

I got hurt feelings, I got hurt feelings....

Smokey is turning out to be one complex mofo. Despite being clobbered with the metaphorical rock to the head of stark black and white divisions between our islands two big game players (I had to laugh at the black and white baby blankets!), MIB is revealed to be anything but 'evil incarnate'. Just like our Losties, he was summoned to the island (albeit while still in the womb) and sucked in to a fate he never asked for - being groomed to be protector of that glowing piss cave (more on that later). I liked the development of his mistrust of people, and thought it linked nicely in to how he sees them as things to be scanned and manipulated for his ultimate goal - leaving the island. Does all this scanning / access to peoples memories feed his desire to experience the outside world as they have? Maybe he won't cause everything to 'cease to be' by leaving, perhaps he just wants a regular life, to watch CSI on cable with a few beers and a Chinese takeaway, not worrying about loopholes or Cerberus vents. But I doubt it.

Lilac wine, is sweet, and heady.....

Wacky wine that extends your lifeline! All jokes about drinking the kool-aid aside, we received an answer to how you become immortal on the island. Nope, you don't go spelunking in lucky charms cavern as I initially guessed, you just down a shot of Mother's mystical vino. This also seems to be how Jacob granted Richard eternal life - so what the hell is in that wine?!

Smoke in the water and fire in the sky, smoke on the water....

So we got to see the birth of ol' Smokey - or did we? It was cool to see Jacob open a can of whoop ass on his brother and set him sailing in to the light, then get regurgitated as that familiar pillar of electric smoke, but I don't think this is the first incarnation of the monster. No, that wanton destruction of the MIB's camp and filling of the well had smokey finger prints all over it. It all ties up with Mother telling Jacob going in to the light would be worse than dying (she knows, because she's lived it), her position as light guardian, and finally her thankfulness for finally being freed through death. I don't think it will ever be explicitly stated, but the hints were pretty heavy that she was the smoke monster before MIB.

And now, the shit shit:

Come in my cave, and I'll burn your heart away....

That fucking cave. When we first panned over to it, my heart sunk. Those awful shafts of light beaming outwards, the horrible piss yellow glow from inside. It's not even so much the dodgy effects though, it's the premise that a huge piece of Lost mythology had to be represented so literally as some hokum light that is 'within us all'. I think I'd much rather have that mystery left up to my own imagination, as that cheesy, grand explanation turned me right off. And how come no one else has stumbled across this shining 'beacon in a rock'? I bet Jack et al find it real quickly in the next few eps though! Stephen King talks about ditching plot and uncovering your story piece by piece as you go along, like excavating a fossil by slowly dusting away. While this frees up your writing from a stunted plot, you can easily write yourself in to a corner, with ever decreasing scope for a satisfying conclusion. The whole golden shower rock pool debacle wreaks of this to me. Let's hope the finale can go some way to compensate for it.

The things, you say, you're unbelievable.....

While Juno's step mum turned in another enigmatic turn, and even young MIB was on the whole believable, young Jacob just didn't cut the mustard. Maybe they sacrificed acting chops for a teenage facsimile of Mark Pellegrino, which worked when he showed up fleetingly to haunt Flocke (I never thought it was a grown up Aaron, honest!), but he couldn't carry half an episode. Hopefully he'll now be relegated to ghost status for the remainder of the series, which is only three and a half more hours, sob!

Across the sea didn't live up to expectations, but how could it really after 100+ episodes of build? Sure it was hit and miss, but we've been asking for answers, and it provided them, just maybe not the answers we wanted. The end game is fast approaching, and I for one am savouring every last bit of Lost before it chugs away in to the sunset, leaving us bound, gagged and weeping on the Pala Ferry dock.

Muse - The Resistance Review

Last September, I had the chance to listen to and review Muse's new album pre-release, The Resistance. It's one of my favourite bits of writing I've done and was published on the Muse.mu website, so I thought I'd post it here too! I stand by my opinions (even if I was ever so slightly swept up in the euphoria and excitement of a new Muse album) and the majority of the songs are still in heavy rotation on my ipod.

Muse – The Resistance

Just where exactly does a band go after a revelatory experience with black holes? Back to Earth it seems. If Origin of Symmetry was Muse embarking on their space rock odyssey, The Resistance is them returning home, matured, concentrated and intent on kicking ass and taking names. Gone is the angst and insular self-obsession, no longer adolescent, no longer playing; they have landed back on this planet and they don’t like what they see.

There is no gentle introduction as we have grown accustomed to – ‘Uprising’s gears whir in to action as it grabs you by the back of the neck, forces you against the wall and pats you down for a wire tap, just in case you’re, you know, ‘one of them’. The agenda is set – rise up and take the power back. ‘Resistance’ melts in, a dreamy, echo-laden opening with clap of thunder drums, overtaken by a simple piano hook and disco beat. It builds to a satisfyingly chunky chorus, Captain Bellamy bellowing “Love is our Resistance!” and who are we to argue? But the Thought Police are on to him; soon love just won’t be enough.
Punchy stabs of synth usher in ‘Undisclosed Desires’, a laid back ‘Map of the Problematique’ gone all soppy. Matt sings in a low register “beauty is not just a mask / exercise demons from the past”. A sexy declaration of devotion and building a future together, juxtaposed with Timbaland style percussion.
United States of Eurasia takes us back to 1984 paranoia, the gentle piano ballad erupting to Arabian piano and Queen-esque layered chanting. We are called on to unite our land masses to equal the might of America, but that tongue is firmly in cheek, and it gives us a note of comic relief from the onslaught of Muse manifesto.
80’s influences abound on ‘Guiding Light’ - a heart thump rhythm ripped straight out of Ultravox’s ‘Vienna’ marries up with clean, chiming guitars swamped in reverb for what will most definitely be a ‘lighter waving’ gig moment. A slow and gentle song, it laments "I’m confused with no guiding light" as the melancholy becomes all-consuming and it’s apparent that the stakes must be raised. We’re about to start a riot. Windows will be broken, landmarks defaced. Lines will be crossed, lives may be lost – but hey, you wanted this revolution didn’t you?! ‘Unnatural Selection’ is the audio encapsulation of this sentiment, a church organ intro groaning like the swaying, murmuring mob about to explode, then a pounding Molotov cocktail of a riff starts hammering our sensibilities to pieces, rendering us willing participants of the disruption. The bass work is unrelenting, coercing you in to rhythmic violence – push it beyond peaceful protest!
A plodding middle eight section gives brief respite to ponder the destruction and recoup your energy while taking in a dirty blues solo – but “we are not droplets in the ocean” is the war cry before a full on Guns N' Roses style riff-fest complete with palm muting finishes the job for good. In a word, orgasmic.
There is no let up though, as ‘Mk Ultra’s fast synthesiser cuts and thumping bass warn us that “they’re breaking through”. They’re chasing after us, retribution for our rebellion. It’s fast paced, frantic and exciting, interspersed with heavy riff fills and more of the Queen style vocals. Matt sings “we’re falling…losing control” - could our Resistance be failing? Was the fight always fixed? Were the Thought Police on to us all along? If we must concede though, ‘I Belong to You (+Mon Coeur S'Ouvre A Ta Voix)’ is us having one hell of a time at the wake! It promotes visions of Matt standing at an aged piano plonking out the jaunty tune to the last remaining inebriated followers, holed up in their prohibition hiding place, revelling in what could be their last moments on earth. The structure changes dramatically, reeling out some ‘Butterflies and Hurricanes’ style ivory tinkling as Matt comes over all Edith Piaf before sliding back to the upbeat, bouncy melody and a clarinet solo that apes the vocal line. A huge gong clash signifies the end of the party, and we drift off in to alcohol disrupted sleep. To Orwellian nightmares. It’s time to think about what we have done, to accept we will resist no more – to decide what is next for us. A spiralling string section announces the Exogenesis symphony has begun. Ominous drums tell us we are in peril, as space arpeggio’s swirl around us and string vibrato raises the tension. Falsetto vocals take us to dark places, and a heavily distorted guitar colours the grand symphony, lilting back and forth from threatening to uplifting. The parts start to strip away leaving just the vocal to bridge us to ‘Cross Pollination’. An intense, cinematic piano solo eases us in, sobers us up, and waves of strings bring the realisation that it is time to abandon this condemned planet. We must “wade through the toxic clouds / breach the outer sphere / the edge of all our fears”. It becomes calamitous and catastrophic as we’re jettisoned in to orbit, “tell us your final wish / we’ll tell it to the world” says Bellamy as we start our journey towards destination unknown. ‘Redemption’ builds from a simple, repetitive melody reminiscent of ‘Blackout’ in to a euphoric refrain of “let’s start over again”. We drift weightlessly through space now, having reconciled our grievances, at peace with our choices and in harmony. We’ll get it right this time.

The Resistance is exhausting. It takes you through an entire spectrum of human emotion, a spectacular journey of an album. It is evident that in producing the songs themselves, Muse had free reign to experiment and not draw back when something was too esoteric, outlandish or just damn bat-crap crazy. And that’s why we love them. Like Winston Smith, they are taking a stand, taking chances. These secret rebels have come out of hiding and delivered a true magnum opus; a deep, multi-faceted and eclectic two finger salute to musical monotony.

Iron Man 2 Review

I must admit, I was pretty hyped up for this one. Growing up, Iron Man had always been one of my favourite Superheroes. I’ve never been a hardcore comic collector, only having a few flirting dalliances, but I always liked the anti hero character and was excited to see the second film adaptation. This made my disappointment all the more hard to swallow. First let me say, in no way is Iron Man 2 a bad film. It's just that the sum of its great parts don't add up to a great film.

Robert Downey Jr is excellent as Tony Stark, full of cockiness and cool headed confidence as he should be, but I think part of the problem lies in the character. Because of his innate 'Starkness', the constant 'I'm above it all' attitude, I never really took any of the threats seriously (neither it seems does Tony Stark), I just didn't ever believe there was any peril. This makes it hard to get invested in any of the big action scenes, especially when you're basically looking at two robotic suits kick the tin shit out of each other, rarely with any consequence. The lack of danger is blatantly highlighted when a drunk Iron Man has the Marvel equivalent of a pub brawl with his pal Rhodey suited up as an early War Machine. These are supposed to be the most advanced weapon suits in the world, yet absolutely no harm comes to anyone when the two of them have a pissing contest. Maybe it's the PG rating, but I'd at least expect there to be some casualties.

The other issue I have is the pacing. After a snappy start and the excellent court room scene, there a real steep drop off in the pace. We had the whole of the first film to build Tony's character, we know who he is, no need to slap us with unwarranted development. Seriously, a good 30 minutes could be cut out of the second act, where characters seem to have needless and exposition heavy conversations. The film spices up with the Monaco Grand Prix battle, and the effects really shine here, when we see Whiplash slashing racing cars in half like they were made from tin foil, but it regresses again to the same lagging pace as before.

The rest of the cast produce some good moments, especially any time Scarlett Johansson is on screen (some serious nerdgasms going on when she dons her skin tight get-up). Mickey Rourke and Sam Rockwell (who was an early casting fave for Stark) deliver two nuanced and polar opposite villains, but the lumbering script does them no favours.

The final act is balls to the wall ballistic, with Iron Man and War Machine's showdown with the droids being a high point, but again, there's no real danger for any of our heroes. After an extended flight n' fight sequence, the big battle is all over in a matter of minutes, with Rourke's Whiplash / Crimson Dynamo amalgamation being taken down with ease. There are the requisite story tie ups, a happy ending and yet more AC/DC to finish us of, but I'm left feeling like I've just watched a Saturday morning cartoon.

Iron Man 2 was definitely entertaining, which I guess is it's main aim, and it was thoroughly enjoyable - just not satisfying enough. It's light entertainment, which is great while you're in the cinema, but quickly forgotten once you leave that darkened room. There are no discussion points for afterwards other than 'wow, that weapon he used at the end was cool', no moral issues or ambiguities to dissect. Maybe I'm just expecting too much out of a Marvel blockbuster, but given the track records of all involved, I think I was justified in being optimistic. It's just missing that extra depth, something to give it some pathos and really make us care about the characters and the story's outcome. I guess I just like my films a little darker than this.

Why am I here?

So this is a bit of an experiment. As the stereotypical aspirational writer, prone to the frequent bouts of writers block and lack of inspiration, I am starting this as another outlet for my writing, a change of pace if you will. I feel I'm going through a bit of a fiction metamorphosis right now, as the deeper I go in to studying fiction, the more my tastes are changing, and the more my style is changing. Not sure if this is totally a good thing, or if I'm just becoming a pretentious prick, but I'm definitely expanding (and not just my waistline, typing away on a laptop when I could be out burning calories). So, do I start with the golden writers rule, 'write about what you know'? What do I know? A lot of useless shite. I'm sick of my office job, but there's nothing original there. I couldn't tell you fuck all about politics (even with the Prime ministerial debate on in the background), but my friends rely on me as a source of film and music trivia. Hardly comes in handy when you're in a meeting about Government funding, but hey, I'm probably playing 'Fight Club' on a little projector in my brain throughout the fucker anyway. Seriously, one colleague actually described themselves as a 'New Business Maverick' during one meeting, ooh we are impressed. Of course, hearing 'Maverick', I instantly compared them to Tom Cruise in Top Gun, then worried I might be Iceman, so abandoned that train of thought. But enough about work. It's bad enough spending the majority of my time there, definitely don't want to be writing about it too!

So what else? I'm currently a bit of a (ok, very large) Lost obsessive, anxiously looking forward to the last few episodes of the series. Trying hard to stay spoiler free, but man, with the break this week it's proving incredibly hard. I need a hit from that sweet Lost syringe. Ooh, Nick Clegg just said the word 'lost' as I typed it! Maybe I'm controlling what he says? Let's give it a try - 'Fuck off Gordon, go insult some more labour supporters!' Didn't work, did it.

It's hard to say why I'm so hooked on Lost. Maybe because I'm a bit of a mythology freak, don't know why, especially as I have little interest in actual history, but create a complex universe with characters, places, rules, facts and it's own history, and you've got me hook, line and sinker. It's so bad that I'm actually taking the Monday after the finale off work, so I can watch it straight away (being a Brit, I'll be sound asleep when it actually airs). I''m even contemplating a finale party, complete with Dharma jumpsuits, Dharma beer (maybe not in the morning though) and Lost inspired snacks. Ever thought twiglets are a dead ringer for Mr Eko's jesus stick? Now, if only I could get a hold of some Apollo bars....