This week: The greenhouse effect as everyone storms
towards The Orchid on "There's No Place Like Home."
LOST, Season 4, Episode 12
There’s No Place Like Home
I. Leavin’ On A Jet Plane, Don’t Know When I’ll Go Nuts And Demand To Go
A. It would be harsh to classify Jack’s schemes as harebrained (and I’m no
stranger to being harsh about what Jack does, doesn’t do, thinks, doesn’t think,
is, isn’t, etc.), but when you’re strapped to a cargo seat in a Coast Guard
plane to Hawaii to help propagate a worldwide conspiracy after spending nearly
four months trying to get off the same Island with varying degrees of failure
only to finally be one of six out of 40-something who make the trip, I think
that’s the time when you need to say “Jack doesn’t speak for me anymore.”
You’ve got Sayid, you’ve got the gradually maturing Kate, you’ve even got
ruthless corporate bitch Sun (who we’ll get to later). You’re not in the
jungle playing Survivorman and at risk of dying any time some weird insect bites
you. You don’t need to bow before the doctor anymore.
B. This hasn’t come up in a while, but I believe the Notes have previously
covered how Sun just might be the most selfish person on the show. That
was on full display for this episode, a couple of times over. First, if
we’re operating under the assumption that she’s getting off the Island within
hours of the realization that she’ll be separated from her husband for eternity
– either because he’s really dead or because he has to stay behind for whatever
reason, whereas she’s leaving with no intention or promise of return. That
being said, she seems pretty cool with the concept, with her mourning limited to
one awkward pause during the media session and then the usurping of her dad’s
company. Then you stop to think that she’s avenging a husband that she was
about 30 seconds from leaving pre-crash for reasons that have everything to do
with the ridiculous sacrifices he made just to be with her silver-spoon-fed ass.
And that she only got back with him after having to spend over three more months
with him in the most extreme conditions, and even then they were no more
physical than Boone and Shannon until Jin grew his hair out and saved everyone
on the Island. Presumably, this also happened when Sun got tired of not
getting any action, and Michael was gone, so her husband became the top
candidate by default. With all that in mind, Sun didn’t buy her dad’s
company because she decided he was indirectly responsible for Jin’s demise.
She bought that company because she had a lot of money and didn’t want to be
told what to do.
C. Nice job spending months rebuilding the old junker as a memorial to
your son and never managing to reset the odometer, Cheech. Then again, if
you did it as a creative way to shock your son into an exercise plan, maybe
you’re not as stupid as your haircut indicates.
D. There’s no way that woman and Christian produced Claire. For
starters, neither of them are particularly good-looking enough to begat someone
that looks like her. Beyond that, mom spent time in the hospital and dad
died after drinking so much that his heart stopped. Neither of those sound
like the parents of a woman who can withstand a rocket blast. Granted,
Christian’s current undead nature might have something to do with her amazing
dexterity. If those genes also means Jack can’t die, then my hope for a
satisfying end to this series is seriously diminished.
II. The Beach, The Boat & The Ben
A. Some other neurotic, micro-managing borderline genius stranded on an
island miles away from the kind of laboratory situation in which he typically
seems to live might have completely abandoned all faith in a classy appearance
and taken off his tie by now. Not Daniel, though, and the kind of respect
his neckwear commands in that sweat-soaked button-down combination is clearly
working wonders with Charlotte. It used to be that she regarded him with
the same wide-eyed stare of confused disgust that she looked at everything.
Now, she gives him the same wide-eyed state and she’s still quite obviously
confused about everything going on around her, but the veiled disgust is mostly
B. Apparently I underestimated the impact of Jack’s appendix and the
surgery on everything that happens on the beach. Granted, he’s still doing
the same martyr-against-all-odds-even-when-I-fail act. But now, all of a
sudden, he’s fine with Kate accompanying him on an important jungle mission,
which almost never happened BEFORE his transparent love for her was laid out on
the table for all to see, and would seem even less likely now. Then on top
of that, Juliet is completely cool with playing the role of “Old Kate” and
watching Jack stomp off into the brush despite her objections. Last
season, she was telling any story she could to get down in the middle of the
action, but ever since her Tempest tangle with Charlotte, she’s been playing
house mom. Especially given how clearly she asserted her control of the
situation after the surgery, it’s disappointing to know that Bernard, of all
people, is a more important character down this recent stretch.
C. I’d like to see the organizational chart that explains how the boat’s
chain of command works. Sure, the not-so-mysterious-once-you-meet-him
captain is in charge until Keamy stops shooting at clay pigeons and starts
shouting at everyone. Now the former is dead and the latter is off making
more people dead, so apparently the janitor and the crazy guy from the infirmary
are calling the shots? Maybe this is why it’s so easy to sabotage the
engines, break the communications equipment or set a massive bomb up anywhere on
the ship without many repercussions.
D. Aaron’s an awfully tolerant kid given the conditions in which he’s
spent his first months of life. He doesn’t seem to mind being held by
basically anyone, from Locke to Sawyer to Sun to the undead Christian.
Given how many petty problems other folks on the Island keep having with each
other, it’s telling that the youngest among them is the one who can get along
with pretty much everyone. I guess his mother spent most of her time with
Chuckles, so maybe it’s just a family thing.
E. You have to respect Ben’s commitment to secrecy even in the face of
impending doom. Is it absolutely necessary that Hurley and Locke not know
who’s on the other end of that mirror or what they said? Probably not, but
he’s keeping it from them anyway because he’s Ben and they’re not.
Speaking of which, Locke is not making a good effort towards assuming the throne
when he’s still playing the dumbfounded second banana to Ben’s “I have a plan so
shut up and do as I say” act. It wasn’t too long ago that John was using
that same ethereal sage act on everybody else, but he continues to be caught off
guard every time there’s the slightest chance that Ben might know more than he
does. You’re the rightful heir but you still need to be reminded that Ben
is Ben every time he tries to put things into motion. How many times do
you have to get the “Bitch, it’s ME!” look from the man before you stop