Duel of the Fates

That.

That’s the episode I wanted. That 42 minutes of LOST was exactly what I expect from Season Six: thick, chewy mystery with a few answers, a few new questions and a drive toward finality. "The Subsitute” delivered. Let’s discuss.

Obligatory Discussion of Ilana

We have so much to discuss about Locke and Sawyer’s journey of understanding, that I’m just going to hit the highlights of the Ilana & Company story arc.

• I loved the genuinely befuddled Ben, reduced to another wandering pawn in Jacob and his nemesis’ grand chess game. He still doesn’t know who or what this new Locke is. He’s not three steps ahead anymore, he’s right where the rest of us are: confused as hell.

• Ilana’s comment that Fake Locke was out “recruiting,” was interesting. Recruiting who? And for what? Obviously he failed to recruit Richard, but succeeded with Sawyer. It would seem he’s targeting the broken and confused, promising them answers and some sort of deliverance. But the term “recruiting” suggests that Fake Locke needs them as much as they need him. What kind of help does Locke need from Richard and Sawyer? I’ll get to that later on.

• Ilana convinces Frank, Sun and Ben to head to the temple – using the Jin card to recruit Sun. Dear God, how long is this carrot-on-a-stick goose chase going to continue with Sun and Jin? Find each other and make out already. And then decide which one of you Jacob deems a “candidate.”

• And why, may I ask, is Fake Locke “stuck this way?” That’s how Ilana described him to Ben, implying that the shape-shifting days were over, and that the vessel of John Locke was the Man in Black’s last. We saw Fake Locke become Smokey after Jacob died, so I’ll assume he can still take that form. But I’d pay careful attention to the tidbit that this body will be the Man in Black’s for the foreseeable future.

• John Locke got about as proper a burial as John Locke can get. Hey, at least there was a eulogy, albeit terse, bitter and delivered by his murderer. Ben’s words were full of resentment and confusion. But he also seemed aware of what Fake Locke told him, about the tragedy of Locke’s broken, miserable existence. Ben labeled Locke a believer and a man of faith; and most importantly, a better man than he. If there’s a word to describe that eulogy, it’s “defeatist.” Ben knew he had been outdone by forces so much more powerful than he could even begin to fathom.

Or as Lapidus put it, “This is the weirdest damn funeral I’ve ever been to.” Well played, Frank. The line of the night. Now button up that shirt, you carpet-chested poet.

The Locke That Could've Been

I’ll spare you the 500-word diatribe about the importance of Locke driving a GMC Safari (get it!?!), or that when he was picking fabric samples, he couldn’t choose between green (the traditional color used for landmasses on maps) or blue (a color that connotes the vast, blue yonder of ocean that surrounds that land) and how that indecision is largely a metaphor for Locke’s inability to find his place in the world. No, I won’t even mention that sprinkler water washing over John, or compare it to the rain that used to wash over him during moments of great understanding when he was on the Island, and how that is a foreshadowing of his simplistic, non-mystical, non-miraculous alternate reality existence. Nope, not gonna nerd out on any of that. But here are some relevant points.

The Old Gang
John Locke is going to the chapel and he’s gonna get married. To Helen! I liked their relationship, and how a more at-peace Locke could work past his own frustrations and overcome his own deceptions to truly let himself love her – and to let her love him back. And I think a big reason for that is because this Locke doesn’t seem to hate his father in this reality. Helen mentions eloping and inviting papa, and Locke doesn’t balk at it. Again, this just seems to be a much more peaceful, domesticated Locke.

Hell, he’s even still toiling away at the box company, until Randy Nations cans him for lying about his trip to Sydney. But who should be there to save the day? Fortune 500 CEO Hugo Reyes, who offers a job, a little commiseration about Randy (“That guy is a douche”) and some hope (“Chin up, things are gonna work out.”). Like I said last week, I believe these character intersections in the alternate reality are hugely important. Collectively, I believe them to be the constant that will anchor our wayward and disparate alternate reality characters back to their Island doppelgangers. Just watch.

Speaking of which, Rose Nadler! Good to see Rose back, with her worldly, patient wisdom. She was in pre-815 mode, accepting her lot in life and urging Locke to do the same. Which is kind of tragic, when you think about it. The crash taught Rose and Locke to hope again. But in the alternate reality, they’re forced to accept their terminal fates. Then again, perhaps all the Island offered them was false hope.

Weirdest. Parent-Teacher Conference. Ever.
And in what I thought was going to be the lamest payoff of an episode title ever, we learn that Locke is The Substitute…for the usual health teacher? Lame. Until we got to the teachers lounge and Ben Linus was doing his best Terry Tate: Office Linebacker impression (“You kill the joe? You make some mo’!”). Wait. What!? In the alternate reality, Ben Linus is a run-of-the-mill history nerd, whiling away the 9-5 as a high school teacher? The Jughead detonation’s aftermath obviously forced Ben off the Island. Later this year, there’s an episode called Dr. Linus. It’ll be interesting to see how the Jughead explosion altered his course so drastically.

But I’ll say this: it’s further proof that Ben’s ascension to preeminence was merely a fluke based on a very specific set of circumstances that were never truly “supposed to” happen. Jughead didn’t alter the lives of most of our castaways too significantly, but it relegated Ben to normalcy. Why? Because he was never meant for greatness to begin with.

Different But the Same
The alternate reality arc brought to mind the primary lesson of Season Four: that you can’t change the big events that occur, but you can change how they occur, and the circumstances around them. In our alternate reality, Hurley is still connected to Randy Nations, the box company and Mr. Clucks. But he owns all three of them, and he’s truly happy. Likewise, Rose has terminal cancer. But she’s accepted it, instead of living for the shred of hope the Island gave her. So the major pieces of story arcs are still in tact. But the circumstances around them are different.

I think the devices of time travel and alternate realities are working in conjunction to deliver that message. Which is why I think it’s essential to LOST’s end-game. It brings to mind the larger motif of fate versus free will. Perhaps one of the messages of this show is that certain milestones are fated to happen (or “inevitable”), but that we have the free will to change how they happen and, more importantly, how we react to them. Keep that in mind.

Lockeabout

But on to the main event. Locke’s quest both enlightening and confusing. We know what the numbers are (sort of), but who was that kid? We know what a “candidate” refers to, but how is Fake Locke going to “go home”?

For a Dude Who Wears Eyeliner, You’re Kind of a Pansy.
Richard Alpert is afraid. Therefore, so am I. For the first time, the cool, cunning, heady Vice Other is out of his mind terrified. But who could blame him? Did you catch the subtle questioning of allegiances Locked posed to him last night? He told Richard he had “always” wanted him to follow him, as if Richard had been presented a long time ago with a choice to follow Jacob or his nemesis, and obviously chose Jacob. But Locke continues to turn the knife, pitying Richard for following a man who didn’t even reveal his purpose and promising him an explanation. “People seldom get a second chance,” said Locke, reaffirming the notion that Richard had previously chosen Jacob. But Richard wasn’t going anywhere. And there’s a part of me that believes he was wrong not to do so.

You know who else is afraid? Me, when I see a creepy, bloody-handed child in the jungle doing his best Walt impression. Twice this impish little apparition seemed to flummox even the all-knowing Locke, who chased him into the jungle and was reminded of the rules, that he’s not allowed to kill “him.” Part of me wonders if the present tense of that warning implies that “him” refers to Sawyer, Richard or someone in the Temple. Jacob’s already dead. Right? More importantly, who the hell was that kid? I’ll give you three options: the child version of Jacob, a slightly-grown up version of Aaron, or, ummm, err, Charlie Hume! My money is on door number two – Aaron. What if Aaron is imbued with the same kind of projection capabilities as Walt? That would explain the dread and gloom surrounding his birth, and would also provide a vehicle through which the writers can finally explain what the hell Walt is. Which I would like.

Search & Destroy
I loved Locke’s recruitment of Sawyer. Talk about going for the low-hanging fruit. Sawyer’s mind, ravaged by guilt and booze, was ripe for the picking, and Locke did just that. He arrived to Sawyer shaking off a bender, while listening to Iggy Pop’s Search & Destroy, which includes the loaded lyric, “I’m the world’s forgotten boy, the one who’s searchin’, searchin’ to destroy.” It was an apt lyric for poor, broken Sawyer. Reckless, uncaring and fed up, Sawyer took to the path to destruction last night. And Locke was happy to lead the way.

Locke insisted that Sawyer was not in “his house,” but rather a place he just lived a while. I think that’s the Man in Black’s glass-half-full view of the Island: a temporary resting place or – more ominously – a prison. And lucky for Locke, it was a lovely day for a prison break. So Sawyer, much to Maggie’s chagrin, put on some clothes. And they were off.

Locke used that prison analogy later in the episode, when Sawyer invoked Of Mice and Men as a prelude to what would’ve been a very poetic (attempted) killing. With Sawyer’s finger on the trigger, Locke talks him down by empathizing with Sawyer’s plight, saying, “I’ve been trapped for so long, that I don’t even remember what it feels like to be free.” Hmm, empathizing with emotions in order to manipulate someone. Where have I seen this tactic before?

I also really liked Locke’s declaration that he was once a man, like Sawyer, who felt joy, pain, anger, fear, betrayal, and losing a loved one. You could take that as Smokey referring to his human form, which we saw last season. But I don't know if that's it. I think Smokey is becoming one with this body and its history. We started to see that when he imparted Locke’s final thoughts to Ben. And now, he seems to be taking on Locke’s more subtle characteristics – falling while running through the jungle, ruminating on the pain in his life and even yelling “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” to doubters.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more this empathy might be really important. Remember, Jacob claimed that mankind’s misdeeds were “progress,” while the Man in Black posited that man was inherently flawed. We are learning that the Man in Black was “imprisoned” on the Island, perhaps by Jacob or perhaps by a higher power. Here’s a fledgling theory… Man in Black was held captive on the Island precisely because he doubted man’s capacity for progress. Jacob was determined to prove him wrong, but needed time. So he held him captive with cabins and rings of ash. So the Man in Black hatched the plot that required John Locke. But in the process of carrying out that plot, the Man in Black discovered in Locke the essence of humanity. He discovered the feelings of joy, pain, loss, regret, guilt and helplessness. Of futility. Perhaps, in the process of trying to prove his enemy wrong, the Man in Black gained an empathy for what he once despised: the flawed nature of humanity. And ironically, that empathy led to his release from his prison. Jacob incarcerated Man in Black in order to prove that man's downfall was the product of a complex set of emotions, and not an inherent flaw. And Man in Black broke out of that prison by, of all things, proving Jacob right.


James Ford and Temple of Doom
Onto the marquee scene of the young season. The action in Jacob’s cave – including the harrowing journey down Jacob’s Ladders to get there – was absolutely riveting.

If you would’ve told me that we’d see Jacob’s cave, and that there’d be a scale in it balancing white and black stones, I would’ve predicted that would be a series finale scene. Turns out, not. And to prove to us just how useless it was, Locke cast the white stone into the water and called the entire thing “an inside joke.” Interesting.

In Locke’s defense, that scale really was small potatoes compared to what was behind it: a giant cave with hundreds of names scrawled in white, each assigned a number, some crossed off and some unscathed. For those of us obsessed with more mystical elements like Jacob’s “lists” and Hurley's Numbers, this scene was like a pouch of Gushers wrapped in a Fruit Rollup. I make those, sometimes. I call them FruGuBu's - Fruit-Rollup/Gusher Burritos. Seriously, I eat like Liz Lemon.

The name “Goodspeed,” was crossed off, in reference to Horace Goodspeed, the leader of the Dharma Initiative. That leads me to believe the Dharma folk were more “planned” than we think. Jacob brought them here, or at least brought some of them, as subjects for his grand experiment. That test, I would say, backfired considerably and jeopardized the whole fate of the Island.

Each of the non-crossed-out names were our heroes. And each of them were assigned a very ominous number. Locke (4), Hurley (8), Sawyer (15), Sayid (16), Jack (23) and “Kwon” (42). First, it brought to mind a great song by one of my favorites, Ryan Adams called crossed-out named, which includes the lyrics, “When I close my eyes, I feel like a page, with a crossed out a name… I wish I could tell you just how I’m hurt. Pinpoint the location, it’s in another universe.” Right? We’re all just as futile as names crossed out in a notebook, unless there’s a more meaningful version of us off in an alternate universe. God I love Ryan Adams. Nevermind.

Noticeably absent from the list: Kate Austen. Man, hot chicks get everything. She wasn’t even supposed to come to the Island but Jacob’s like, “A brotha’s got needs,” so he let her come anyway. Actually, this is pretty important. I’ve also heard that the name “Littleton,” was crossed off. So why didn’t Kate and Claire make the cut? And does that have any bearing on their current alternate-reality existence?

Kwon – is it Jin or Sun? Or. Is it Ji Yeon, their baby? Man, between this and the Aaron theory, I’m assuaging Maggie’s long-held hope that the children of LOST hold the key to its mythology. Next week: Charlie Hume’s consciousness time-travels and Walt charters a freighter.

Back to the climax of “The Substitute, ” where we learned that the names were “candidates” to succeed Jacob as the protector of the Island. Locke pities Sawyer, saying that the choices he thought he was making in life were not choices at all, but rather fulfillments of Jacob’s chess strategy, with the goal of finding his own successor. Locke gives Sawyer the options of taking the job, turning the other cheek or getting the hell out of Dodge. And Sawyer, predictably, chooses option three. He and Locke are going to high-tail it. To where? Probably Zihuatanejo, a small fishing village about 145 miles southwest of Acapulco. Oh wait, that was Shawshank.

Fate, Free Will and One Big Chess Match
One big thing stuck out to me about this episode. Okay, 50 things stuck out. But I’ll discuss the one.

Locke/Man in Black seems to need some human accompaniment to accomplish his escape from Lostcatraz. I have trouble believing his offering Sawyer a way off the Island was merely a charitable gesture. He first tried to get Richard to come with him. When that failed, he got Sawyer. So why does Locke need a travel buddy? Jacob’s dead, so why can’t he just go? What’s stopping him at this point? And is this part of “the rules?” Truth is, I don’t know. But I’ll venture a little guess. The Man in Black couldn’t just kill Jacob, but instead had to recruit a mortal to do it. He actually had to manipulate a mortal into wanting to do it. That seems to be what he’s doing again with Sawyer here. He’s not forcing him to leave, he’s manipulating him to make him want to leave.

To achieve this manipulation, MIB is playing the "none of this matters" card that Jack so deftly played during the Season Two debate about whether or not to push the button in the hatch. He knocked the numbers as a mere idiosyncrasy of Jacob's. He called the rocks on the scales "just an inside joke." And finally, he said that Jacob wasn't protecting "anything," that the Island was just a useless chuck of land. See, Man in Black's tactic is the same one Jack used way back when: convincing others that the actions they take are futile strides in the marathon that is life and human existence. And he's using that tactic to get Sawyer to want to do something for him.

Which was also Jacob’s tactic. Remember, it’s what he preached to Hurley when trying to coax him onto Ajira 316. He told him that he “had a choice.” And that worked for Hurley, who boarded a plane with a giant guitar case under the delusion that it was his choice to do so.

So what is this? These two cosmic figures are trying to prove or disprove to each other the value of humanity. But they tinker with the process, instead of having to rely on temperamental human emotion to prove certain universal truths. I actually think that’s it, and it plays back into that manifestation of the fate versus free will discussion I was pointing at earlier while discussing the alternate reality.

The manner in which Jacob and MIB’s debate is waged is dependent on the free will and decision making of mankind. And I think the big answers in LOST are going to be contingent on how much these two demigods tinker with that process. Perhaps Jacob can only prove man’s worth by eliminating fate from the discussion and letting man’s free will prove him right. Conversely, maybe the Man in Black must rely on fate to prove the inevitability of man’s primal failings. Meanwhile, man is left to contemplate if the micro and macro decisions we make as human beings matter one little bit. My guess: they do, big time. They're the variable in this big cosmic equation.

And now, I must submit to the very real fate that it is 1 am, I have a headache and I need to go do bed.

Namaste.

Charlie