Staring at my TV at about 11:30 Sunday night, I saw six years of my life flash before my eyes.
A plane crash onto a mysterious island inhabited by polar bears and jaded scientists, a monster made of smoke, time travel, hydrogen bombs, electromagnetism, good versus evil and science versus faith - all of it ended with a flash of light and flood of emotion I never could have expected from an hour-long sci-fi drama simply titled Lost.
And the worst part about it all? I didn't get it.
With the final eye-opening scene, my living room erupted as if it were a hatch blown up by a crew of curious castaways. Wait
that was it? one friend screamed. But then what was the point of the Dharma Initiative?
Well I thought it made perfect sense
said another friend who casually viewed only a few episodes prior. A third friend did nothing but curse at the TV. A fourth sat red-faced on the couch, quiet except for the gentle sounds of her crying.
Me? I sat still, stone-faced and in awe of what I just saw. For six years, I planned my week around Lost's time slot, spent hours procrastinating homework in favor of fan blogs and analyses of what was to come and settled in with a core group of friends with which I discussed the latest theories that popped into my head.
And just like that, it was over. I didn't have a clue what it all meant, let alone if I even liked it.
So I stayed motionless on the couch. I let it soak in, allowing the answers to mull around my head. I processed the final scenes over and over as if I were a lonely sailor pushing a button every 108 minutes to reign in a pocket of electromagnetic energy. I read Twitter chatter, blog posts and recaps. I talked it out with my friends. And after a while, as I lay down to sleep that night and start a new day without Lost, I started to get it.
Without drastically spoiling anything for those who have not yet made time for the two-and-a-half-hour epic finale, I realized that in the end, the minute details we Lost fans agonized over during the last six years were not what made the show special. In the end, what mattered most to the characters - lonely, unfulfilled victims brought to the island to fulfill a specific purpose - were the bonds they created and ultimate feeling of peace in knowing they are not alone.
That's what Lost did for its fans. While its millions of viewers might not be as broken as Jack or cursed as Hurley, we took solace in the characters and their stories of redemption. We formed our own community to discuss, theorize and bond over the alternate reality (or realities) of a mysterious land.
When I think back on the past six seasons of Lost, it's not the quantum physics, the strange numbers or the walking dead I remember - it's the worldwide group of theorizers that made my brain twist, the anticipation of waiting to see what would happen next and the people I shared it with that made this experience all make sense in the end.
Thanks Lost, for helping us create our own sideways reality that other shows never could.
Amanda Lucci is a junior studying journalism and reporter for The Post. Send her your theories about the end of Lost at al106606@ohiou.edu.
4
Opinion
Amanda Lucci
