Like so many other "fans," I've followed "Lost" over the course of its six-year run. The first two marked the honeymoon period for me with the following two transitioning into the disillusionment and irritation phase of the relationship. I mistakenly thought season five was to be the last and hung in there, only to find to my massive disappointment, that I had to continue one more year before the final chapter was to air. Although the last four years were not a TOTAL waste of time (actually, the fact that it is TV implies that yes, it really was a total waste of time . . . ) with some moments of entertainment and enjoyment, I couldn't help but feel like I was being "played." (Let me be the first to admit that I'm often challenged by the obvious.) I had to wait for the series finale last Sunday night to confirm whether this was the case or not. My conclusion? Yes, I was being played, but due to some of the emotionally fulfilling moments (particularly the revelations of Sawyer and Juliet and Jin and Sun) , I didn't mind so much.
I remain a little baffled about the sideways universe story line and its conclusion in the church especially because I hate the idea that all of the characters have died somewhere along the way (regardless of "when") and are there because they have essentially "willed" themselves into this place before moving on to the light. I can accept it as readily as any other ending though. If you consider all of the machinations and meanderings the writers of "Lost" have subjected us to throughout the six years, this ending will suffice. It seems to me the series ended as something quite different than what it had started out as. In the end though, good triumphs over evil, relationships that were formed culminated in a happily-ever-after, people we mourned returned to reunite with their loved ones and in a nicely-wrapped piece of writing, the show ended with a shot of Jack closing his eyes as he dies (not alone, I am compelled to mention, but in the soothing company of Vincent, Walt's dog), the perfect counterpart to the very first scene of the beginning episode where we see Jack opening his eyes immediately following the crash of Oceanic 815.
I've read several blogs and critiques of the final episode, but enjoyed Todd VanDerWerff's review in the Los Angeles Times the most. In his first review (he wrote a second follow-up article a few days after his initial reactions to the finale), he suggests that Lindelof and Cuse, the show's producers, threw a lot of different elements into "Lost" to appeal to a large and varied audience. There was the science fiction aspect of the show, certainly mysticism was at play, and philosophy (hell, one of the main characters was named John Locke!), etc. VanDerWerff suggests that this cornucopia of underlying and interlacing themes allowed the viewers to embrace whatever aspect appealed to them most.
In my case, I was always captivated by the love portrayed in "Lost," and I'm not just referring to the obvious coupling that transpired between the various men and women. Let's not forget the friendship that existed between Charlie and Hugo as an example. The moments I anxiously awaited throughout the years were those glimpses into the blooming love between characters - Kate and Jack, Kate and Sawyer, Jack and Juliet, Sawyer and Juliet, Jin and Sun, Charlie and Claire, Rose and Bernard and not in the least, Desmond and Penny. Somehow their story lines resonated with me and brought the humanity back into the otherwise perplexing trappings that first attracted my attention. They reminded us of what serves as our anchor in the face of uncertainty, potential danger and adversity. They showed us that love is a precious thing and that we are somehow made more noble by it and that our life has more purpose when we love somebody and in turn are loved. Even Vincent the dog demonstrated this (yes, yes, I know, it is just a conceit of the writers and not an actual event, but still . . . ) when he appeared to comfort Jack and usher him out of this world. And so it ends; a six-year relationship full of its own ups and downs. I suppose now I'll have to look for love elsewhere since there will no longer be my "Lost" love.
I've read several blogs and critiques of the final episode, but enjoyed Todd VanDerWerff's review in the Los Angeles Times the most. In his first review (he wrote a second follow-up article a few days after his initial reactions to the finale), he suggests that Lindelof and Cuse, the show's producers, threw a lot of different elements into "Lost" to appeal to a large and varied audience. There was the science fiction aspect of the show, certainly mysticism was at play, and philosophy (hell, one of the main characters was named John Locke!), etc. VanDerWerff suggests that this cornucopia of underlying and interlacing themes allowed the viewers to embrace whatever aspect appealed to them most.
In my case, I was always captivated by the love portrayed in "Lost," and I'm not just referring to the obvious coupling that transpired between the various men and women. Let's not forget the friendship that existed between Charlie and Hugo as an example. The moments I anxiously awaited throughout the years were those glimpses into the blooming love between characters - Kate and Jack, Kate and Sawyer, Jack and Juliet, Sawyer and Juliet, Jin and Sun, Charlie and Claire, Rose and Bernard and not in the least, Desmond and Penny. Somehow their story lines resonated with me and brought the humanity back into the otherwise perplexing trappings that first attracted my attention. They reminded us of what serves as our anchor in the face of uncertainty, potential danger and adversity. They showed us that love is a precious thing and that we are somehow made more noble by it and that our life has more purpose when we love somebody and in turn are loved. Even Vincent the dog demonstrated this (yes, yes, I know, it is just a conceit of the writers and not an actual event, but still . . . ) when he appeared to comfort Jack and usher him out of this world. And so it ends; a six-year relationship full of its own ups and downs. I suppose now I'll have to look for love elsewhere since there will no longer be my "Lost" love.
This week, as I await a credit from the Impossible Project for defective film, I have once again taken up my new camera. This has given rise to the inner conflict I opened with. I have been deliberately shooting "bad" images with the PX100 film for a few weeks and now must focus (forgive the bad pun) on producing images that do justice to the latest technology. While PX100 film images "suggest" the essence of the subject matter captured on its flawed photographic emulsion, the 
