Saturday, May 3, 2008

Lost: A Sloppy Map Isn't Storytelling

Whenever I watch Lost, I get this sick feeling that we, the viewers, are just rubber dolls for the self-indulgent masturbatory acts of the Lost writers. I don't like being fucked around. I don't like treasure hunts that promise big but only come up with a lot of bad clues and stinky prizes. What's so great about imposed confusion? Every episode reeks of a glorified Agatha Christie mystery with red herrings thrown to people who like doing dumbed down crossword puzzles. It's Monty Burns rubbing his hands, eyes narrowed, saying gleefully, "They want clues? I'll give them clues."

The best part of Lost is the cast of characters. It began with them and made all the silliness bearable, even at times meaningful. But now the characters are just cogs to an end that probably isn't justified. Or interesting. Because the show is now about the writers and how the writers are more clever than the viewers. Cleverness for the sake of cleverness. Surprise for the sake of surprise.

Lost is shitting on the head of light entertainment.

(Yes, I am angry. But as a writer, I just don't approve of writers abusing their superpowers.)