Here’s the thing about Lost: My Lost is not your Lost is not Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse’s Lost. We all have our own ideal version of the series – our own theories, our own favorite storylines and characters, our own list of grievances. For some – maybe for the majority – the ideal iteration of Lost was the first season. How many times have we heard it over the past few months: “Didn’t this used to be a show about the survivors of a plane crash?” This drives me crazy. Taking nothing away from the first season, which was groundbreaking for network television in many ways, I personally can’t imagine that version of the show sustaining three or four seasons, let alone six. Do people really wish they were still watching Jack, Kate, Charlie, et al, living in their little huts on the beach, hunting and fishing, getting into various romantic entanglements, having ever-more obscure and irrelevant flashbacks, and plotting, always plotting their escape, building rafts and coconut phones in the desperate hope they would somehow someday get off the island? I think Lost rode that particular horse as far as it could without turning into a tropical soap opera (which is really what ABC wanted in the first place), but a lot of people disagree, and I can respect that. In the second season, Lost turned into a show about people down in a hatch pressing a button, and for all I know, there are fans for whom that was Lost at its best. I think that entire season could have been condensed into six or eight episodes, but again, my Lost is not your Lost. Countless fans view the entire series through the prism of the Jack/Kate/Sawyer love triangle. There are “Jaters” and “Skaters” and they have been engaged in paint-peeling internet flame wars for six years now and I think they’re out of their minds…but again, all of us who have invested in Lost have our reasons.
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