Lost 1.17: "...In Translation"
Written by Javier Grillo-Marxuach and Leonard Dick
Directed by Tucker Gates
In which Michael’s raft is set blaze, and the perpetrator appears to be Jin, which leads to the culmination of his tensions with his wife, while Sayid and Shannon find common ground…
Status Report
After the excellent previous episode, it was almost inevitable that this one would be something of a letdown. The writers do everything they can to maintain a level of quality, but there’s always going to be the subjective interpretation of the audience involved, never mind the specific production challenges that come with the territory. And ultimately, different writers have different voices and concepts of pacing, which taken in relation to the director, can vastly change the final product.
All that said, this is not a bad episode in the least. It’s not as dramatically tight as the previous episode, but as with “House of the Rising Sun”, this is an inevitable consequence of staying true to the subtitling convention established for the Korean characters. Such a convention is risky for many reasons, all brought up in the review for the earlier episode, but it does give the series a considerable mark of authenticity.
Several character threads related to the “minor” characters (Michael, Walt, Jin, Sun) clash together in a major way, which ought to please those fans clamoring for forward momentum. The Jin/Sun relationship has been building towards a confrontation for most of the season, and in keeping with the theme of the series thus far, the current resolution takes the characters into a new understanding of themselves and each other.
This is essentially the beginning of the “resolution” phase of the season, at least in terms of the character and plot arcs that the writers plan on addressing in the first season. The rest of the season ought to spiral into a series of revelations about connections between characters and hidden motivations. In a sense, Sawyer’s story in the previous episode was a clever transition out of the “complication” phase, so this episode doesn’t represent a major change in the series format or style.
The big news, of course, is that Sun’s secret is out, and Jin is rather displeased with the fact that Sun was keeping secrets from him. It certainly doesn’t help that Sun was learning to speak English so she could escape him in America, when he was planning in parallel to take her to America to escape her father’s obligations and reaffirm their marriage. The dovetailing with “House of the Rising Sun” is very well done, and with the new context afforded by Jin’s side of the story.
It’s not entirely clear, but it seems like Sun’s father used Jin’s desire to marry his daughter to place Jin in a compromising situation. Perhaps it was convenient for Sun’s father to select a husband for his willful and gorgeous daughter, someone he could keep under strict control to ensure that he would continue to control Sun’s life. Whatever the case, Jin goes from being a man striving for a woman beyond his station to a man broken and compromised in every possible way. Daniel Dae Kim does an incredible job of communicating strong emotion to the American audience, all without speaking more than a word or two of English.
Unlike Sawyer, however, whose self-loathing in the previous episode placed nearly everything he’s done on the island into clear perspective, Jin’s decisions are still somewhat hard to judge. It seems easy enough to conclude that he ran from the others because he was sure that he would be blamed, but when he was caught, why taunt Michael into beating him to a pulp? Was it simply to make Michael look bad, or was it some kind of indirect self-punishment for his actions in Korea?
At least his final decision to help Michael build a new raft makes metaphorical sense. More than any other episode, the metaphor of the caves (embracing a new life) and the beach (hanging on to the old, resisting redemption) plays a major role. Locke sounds like his namesake in a more direct fashion, explaining that he sees the island as a chance for wiping clean the sins of the past and finding a path more true to each and every person. (The fact that he attaches something of a mystical air to that philosophy is beside the point in this episode.) Jin, rejecting redemption and hanging on to his guilt from his past, fueled by his anger at Sun and personal shame, is no longer trying to work things out. So he moves from the path of redemption into a personal limbo.
Sun, on the other hand, has apparently taken another step, however distressing, towards a new way of life. She is now free to do as she wants, and it certainly agrees with her. Now that the rest of the survivors know that she can speak English, there will be distrust, but there will also be new opportunities for forging friendships and learning a new way of life. If she remains at the caves, this will be a sign that Sun is moving on, accepting the “tabula rasa” offered by the island.
Jin and Sun are not the only ones moving in separate directions. Michael, despite his experience in “Special”, is still dedicated to getting off the island as soon as possible. Less surprising, but perfectly logical, is Sawyer’s continued efforts to resist the promise of a new start. The two of them are firmly entrenched in the idea of holding on to their existing struggles. But Walt has always been more interested in what the island has to offer, and he doesn’t want to get back to the old way of life. It makes perfect sense that he would set the raft on fire (through desire or otherwise), just as it makes perfect sense that Locke would see through Walt’s tacit acceptance of Michael’s attempts at fatherhood.
Locke uses the destruction of the raft, and the fact that the rest of the survivors don’t know about Walt’s part in it, as a pretext for a moment that fits his shamanic role. He casts Ethan’s group, and perhaps even Danielle, into a vague and incredibly threatening context, as an unseen but ever-present enemy that they need to acknowledge collectively. He instantly sets them apart as a faceless band of shadows, touching on but deftly avoiding the mystical concept that those “others” have failed the test presented by the island itself. This could become very important in terms of the characters’ psychology going into the final episodes of the season. (Anyone else notice that he also has the power of changing the location and shape of blood stains on his face?)
Like last episode, Jack is barely present, coming into the story only when his leadership is needed, like when the relative peace on the island is disturbed by Jin and Michael’s escalating conflict. While he still has plenty of issues to work through, he’s becoming the leader that Locke saw inside of him in “White Rabbit”. In sharp contrast to the battle of wills at play several episodes earlier, Locke and Sayid seem to have fallen back into the role of Jack’s “cabinet”, each advising Jack in their area of expertise, then falling in line with whatever Jack decides.
Kate is also in the background, playing the role of Sun’s advisor. She serves to remind the audience that Sun has had more than enough chances to tell Jin about her ability to speak English. She’s also had plenty of chances to commit to her husband fully, rather than simply maintain her current transitional state. It is surprising, however, to see that Kate hadn’t joined Sawyer as a passenger on Michael’s raft. That suggests that she’s still on the fence regarding the possibility of a new life (something she seems to run to, only to fall back into established patterns).
Sawyer, fresh off his uncomfortable look into his own motivations in the previous episode, shows little desire for change this time around. That might sound like bad continuity at first, but it makes sense that Sawyer’s slow and uncertain transition from self-loathing packrat to upstanding citizen would take more than a few bad memories to escalate. Besides, he seems to find some value in letting someone else become the group’s punching bag, and while he went more than a little overboard, he was indirectly looking after the will of the community.
Sayid wisely realizes that Michael and Jin need to settle their accounts and just get it over with, before more resentment turns into a justification for far worse than a few punches. He remembers from “House of the Rising Sun” how little it took for the two to go for the kill, and he’s faced his own demons for his decision to torture Sawyer soon after. Beyond that, his tentative interest in Shannon is rather sweet, and it’s fun to see a man usually so sure of himself stumbling over Shannon’s open interest.
Charlie and Claire are now operating as something of a couple, though still struggling themselves with the idea of letting go of the past. Ironically, where Charlie was ready to step back into familiar patterns, putting Claire at arm’s length, Claire was forced to make the decision all over again. Both of them were thereby placing on equal footing, and together, they seem to be building a new future together (and perhaps, including her child).
Hurley’s most important contribution was not his potential as a comic device, though of course, the final scene was a brilliant moment (especially his reaction to seeing how similar he was to Claire!). Hurley played the same role for Jin that Kate played for Sun, providing one last chance at turning from the path of bitterness. The importance of the scenes in “Whatever the Case May Be” is now quite clear. Careful viewers will also notice that Hurley was on Korean television for some reason; one would think that it was an early tease related to his story, which comes with the next episode.
Boone and Shannon seem to be following the same kind of pattern as Jin and Sun or Michael and Walt. For all that Boone has decided to follow Locke’s example as something of an acolyte, he’s letting Sayid’s possible relationship with Shannon impede his psychological progress. This is something that Locke cannot have missed, and he’s already shown a growing impatience with Boone’s weaknesses. Boone has shown a desire to take on more responsibility than he can handle, and if he decides to make a grand gesture to restore Locke’s faith, he could find himself the first major victim of the series.
Shannon, on the other hand, seems to have taken Locke’s advice to heart. With the prospect of finding a way back to the real world becoming less and less likely, Shannon has little reason to cling to her old ways. Besides, Sayid has been shown as a dependable man in need of a reason to let go of the past, and Shannon’s needs mesh well with his own. Never mind the fact that Shannon knows how to paint a picture; Maggie delivered that line about a rope and Saturday night in a way that any man would love to hear, especially from her!
The final scene is perhaps indicative of how the episode compares with the previous installment of the series. Instead of ending on a perfect grace note to a highly focused and perfectly paced story, this episode ends with a comic scene that has nothing to do with the central events. While there was a central theme of growing apart or coming together, the former embodied in the Jin/Sun dynamic and the latter embodied in the Sayid/Shannon romance, the structure of the episode wasn’t as strong as it could have been. Add to that an over-reliance on the hand-held camera work, which was far more noticeable in this episode than in the past, and the final product isn’t quite as solid.
As already mentioned, this episode was also up against the same challenge that plagued “House of the Rising Sun”. Much of the episode requires the use of subtitles, and that can be annoying to many viewers. (Never mind that winter storm warnings in the Northeast covered the subtitles during the teaser!) This time, the effect was partially mitigated by the clever intersection of Sun’s previously established point of view and Jin’s fresh perspective. Now, the character development has given the writers an extra tool in overcoming that challenge.
Now is as good a time as any to address the ongoing issue of the recent ratings drop. In many ways, this was inevitable. The network was savvy enough to air nearly the entire first half of the season straight through the fall, but there’s the price that comes when the remaining episodes have to be strung out over nearly 20 weeks of programming time. The early episodes built up huge word of mouth, leading to very strong ratings; now, some casual viewers have dropped off as episodes have been missed, and other viewers have decided not to let the story play itself out on its own timetable.
The fact is, the ratings have been hovering around the same number of estimated viewers since the beginning of the season. A second season is practically a given. There have been some ups and downs, but nothing that one wouldn’t expect over time. The same is true of the quality of the series. Even when it’s not as good as it could be, it still covers all the basics and then some, providing some of the best and most consistent character development on television in quite some time. This episode is no exception.
Final Analysis
Overall, this episode was not quite as strong as the previous installment, largely due to a less focused approach and some spotty camera work. The extensive subtitling once again presents a challenge, but this time, the inherent drama helps the writers to overcome that difficulty. Character development is once again the order of the day, and it would appear that the season has shifted from “complication” to “resolution”, promising more defining moments in the future.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 2/4
Final Rating: 7/10
Season Average (as of 1.16): 7.8
Directed by Tucker Gates
In which Michael’s raft is set blaze, and the perpetrator appears to be Jin, which leads to the culmination of his tensions with his wife, while Sayid and Shannon find common ground…
Status Report
After the excellent previous episode, it was almost inevitable that this one would be something of a letdown. The writers do everything they can to maintain a level of quality, but there’s always going to be the subjective interpretation of the audience involved, never mind the specific production challenges that come with the territory. And ultimately, different writers have different voices and concepts of pacing, which taken in relation to the director, can vastly change the final product.
All that said, this is not a bad episode in the least. It’s not as dramatically tight as the previous episode, but as with “House of the Rising Sun”, this is an inevitable consequence of staying true to the subtitling convention established for the Korean characters. Such a convention is risky for many reasons, all brought up in the review for the earlier episode, but it does give the series a considerable mark of authenticity.
Several character threads related to the “minor” characters (Michael, Walt, Jin, Sun) clash together in a major way, which ought to please those fans clamoring for forward momentum. The Jin/Sun relationship has been building towards a confrontation for most of the season, and in keeping with the theme of the series thus far, the current resolution takes the characters into a new understanding of themselves and each other.
This is essentially the beginning of the “resolution” phase of the season, at least in terms of the character and plot arcs that the writers plan on addressing in the first season. The rest of the season ought to spiral into a series of revelations about connections between characters and hidden motivations. In a sense, Sawyer’s story in the previous episode was a clever transition out of the “complication” phase, so this episode doesn’t represent a major change in the series format or style.
The big news, of course, is that Sun’s secret is out, and Jin is rather displeased with the fact that Sun was keeping secrets from him. It certainly doesn’t help that Sun was learning to speak English so she could escape him in America, when he was planning in parallel to take her to America to escape her father’s obligations and reaffirm their marriage. The dovetailing with “House of the Rising Sun” is very well done, and with the new context afforded by Jin’s side of the story.
It’s not entirely clear, but it seems like Sun’s father used Jin’s desire to marry his daughter to place Jin in a compromising situation. Perhaps it was convenient for Sun’s father to select a husband for his willful and gorgeous daughter, someone he could keep under strict control to ensure that he would continue to control Sun’s life. Whatever the case, Jin goes from being a man striving for a woman beyond his station to a man broken and compromised in every possible way. Daniel Dae Kim does an incredible job of communicating strong emotion to the American audience, all without speaking more than a word or two of English.
Unlike Sawyer, however, whose self-loathing in the previous episode placed nearly everything he’s done on the island into clear perspective, Jin’s decisions are still somewhat hard to judge. It seems easy enough to conclude that he ran from the others because he was sure that he would be blamed, but when he was caught, why taunt Michael into beating him to a pulp? Was it simply to make Michael look bad, or was it some kind of indirect self-punishment for his actions in Korea?
At least his final decision to help Michael build a new raft makes metaphorical sense. More than any other episode, the metaphor of the caves (embracing a new life) and the beach (hanging on to the old, resisting redemption) plays a major role. Locke sounds like his namesake in a more direct fashion, explaining that he sees the island as a chance for wiping clean the sins of the past and finding a path more true to each and every person. (The fact that he attaches something of a mystical air to that philosophy is beside the point in this episode.) Jin, rejecting redemption and hanging on to his guilt from his past, fueled by his anger at Sun and personal shame, is no longer trying to work things out. So he moves from the path of redemption into a personal limbo.
Sun, on the other hand, has apparently taken another step, however distressing, towards a new way of life. She is now free to do as she wants, and it certainly agrees with her. Now that the rest of the survivors know that she can speak English, there will be distrust, but there will also be new opportunities for forging friendships and learning a new way of life. If she remains at the caves, this will be a sign that Sun is moving on, accepting the “tabula rasa” offered by the island.
Jin and Sun are not the only ones moving in separate directions. Michael, despite his experience in “Special”, is still dedicated to getting off the island as soon as possible. Less surprising, but perfectly logical, is Sawyer’s continued efforts to resist the promise of a new start. The two of them are firmly entrenched in the idea of holding on to their existing struggles. But Walt has always been more interested in what the island has to offer, and he doesn’t want to get back to the old way of life. It makes perfect sense that he would set the raft on fire (through desire or otherwise), just as it makes perfect sense that Locke would see through Walt’s tacit acceptance of Michael’s attempts at fatherhood.
Locke uses the destruction of the raft, and the fact that the rest of the survivors don’t know about Walt’s part in it, as a pretext for a moment that fits his shamanic role. He casts Ethan’s group, and perhaps even Danielle, into a vague and incredibly threatening context, as an unseen but ever-present enemy that they need to acknowledge collectively. He instantly sets them apart as a faceless band of shadows, touching on but deftly avoiding the mystical concept that those “others” have failed the test presented by the island itself. This could become very important in terms of the characters’ psychology going into the final episodes of the season. (Anyone else notice that he also has the power of changing the location and shape of blood stains on his face?)
Like last episode, Jack is barely present, coming into the story only when his leadership is needed, like when the relative peace on the island is disturbed by Jin and Michael’s escalating conflict. While he still has plenty of issues to work through, he’s becoming the leader that Locke saw inside of him in “White Rabbit”. In sharp contrast to the battle of wills at play several episodes earlier, Locke and Sayid seem to have fallen back into the role of Jack’s “cabinet”, each advising Jack in their area of expertise, then falling in line with whatever Jack decides.
Kate is also in the background, playing the role of Sun’s advisor. She serves to remind the audience that Sun has had more than enough chances to tell Jin about her ability to speak English. She’s also had plenty of chances to commit to her husband fully, rather than simply maintain her current transitional state. It is surprising, however, to see that Kate hadn’t joined Sawyer as a passenger on Michael’s raft. That suggests that she’s still on the fence regarding the possibility of a new life (something she seems to run to, only to fall back into established patterns).
Sawyer, fresh off his uncomfortable look into his own motivations in the previous episode, shows little desire for change this time around. That might sound like bad continuity at first, but it makes sense that Sawyer’s slow and uncertain transition from self-loathing packrat to upstanding citizen would take more than a few bad memories to escalate. Besides, he seems to find some value in letting someone else become the group’s punching bag, and while he went more than a little overboard, he was indirectly looking after the will of the community.
Sayid wisely realizes that Michael and Jin need to settle their accounts and just get it over with, before more resentment turns into a justification for far worse than a few punches. He remembers from “House of the Rising Sun” how little it took for the two to go for the kill, and he’s faced his own demons for his decision to torture Sawyer soon after. Beyond that, his tentative interest in Shannon is rather sweet, and it’s fun to see a man usually so sure of himself stumbling over Shannon’s open interest.
Charlie and Claire are now operating as something of a couple, though still struggling themselves with the idea of letting go of the past. Ironically, where Charlie was ready to step back into familiar patterns, putting Claire at arm’s length, Claire was forced to make the decision all over again. Both of them were thereby placing on equal footing, and together, they seem to be building a new future together (and perhaps, including her child).
Hurley’s most important contribution was not his potential as a comic device, though of course, the final scene was a brilliant moment (especially his reaction to seeing how similar he was to Claire!). Hurley played the same role for Jin that Kate played for Sun, providing one last chance at turning from the path of bitterness. The importance of the scenes in “Whatever the Case May Be” is now quite clear. Careful viewers will also notice that Hurley was on Korean television for some reason; one would think that it was an early tease related to his story, which comes with the next episode.
Boone and Shannon seem to be following the same kind of pattern as Jin and Sun or Michael and Walt. For all that Boone has decided to follow Locke’s example as something of an acolyte, he’s letting Sayid’s possible relationship with Shannon impede his psychological progress. This is something that Locke cannot have missed, and he’s already shown a growing impatience with Boone’s weaknesses. Boone has shown a desire to take on more responsibility than he can handle, and if he decides to make a grand gesture to restore Locke’s faith, he could find himself the first major victim of the series.
Shannon, on the other hand, seems to have taken Locke’s advice to heart. With the prospect of finding a way back to the real world becoming less and less likely, Shannon has little reason to cling to her old ways. Besides, Sayid has been shown as a dependable man in need of a reason to let go of the past, and Shannon’s needs mesh well with his own. Never mind the fact that Shannon knows how to paint a picture; Maggie delivered that line about a rope and Saturday night in a way that any man would love to hear, especially from her!
The final scene is perhaps indicative of how the episode compares with the previous installment of the series. Instead of ending on a perfect grace note to a highly focused and perfectly paced story, this episode ends with a comic scene that has nothing to do with the central events. While there was a central theme of growing apart or coming together, the former embodied in the Jin/Sun dynamic and the latter embodied in the Sayid/Shannon romance, the structure of the episode wasn’t as strong as it could have been. Add to that an over-reliance on the hand-held camera work, which was far more noticeable in this episode than in the past, and the final product isn’t quite as solid.
As already mentioned, this episode was also up against the same challenge that plagued “House of the Rising Sun”. Much of the episode requires the use of subtitles, and that can be annoying to many viewers. (Never mind that winter storm warnings in the Northeast covered the subtitles during the teaser!) This time, the effect was partially mitigated by the clever intersection of Sun’s previously established point of view and Jin’s fresh perspective. Now, the character development has given the writers an extra tool in overcoming that challenge.
Now is as good a time as any to address the ongoing issue of the recent ratings drop. In many ways, this was inevitable. The network was savvy enough to air nearly the entire first half of the season straight through the fall, but there’s the price that comes when the remaining episodes have to be strung out over nearly 20 weeks of programming time. The early episodes built up huge word of mouth, leading to very strong ratings; now, some casual viewers have dropped off as episodes have been missed, and other viewers have decided not to let the story play itself out on its own timetable.
The fact is, the ratings have been hovering around the same number of estimated viewers since the beginning of the season. A second season is practically a given. There have been some ups and downs, but nothing that one wouldn’t expect over time. The same is true of the quality of the series. Even when it’s not as good as it could be, it still covers all the basics and then some, providing some of the best and most consistent character development on television in quite some time. This episode is no exception.
Final Analysis
Overall, this episode was not quite as strong as the previous installment, largely due to a less focused approach and some spotty camera work. The extensive subtitling once again presents a challenge, but this time, the inherent drama helps the writers to overcome that difficulty. Character development is once again the order of the day, and it would appear that the season has shifted from “complication” to “resolution”, promising more defining moments in the future.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 2/4
Final Rating: 7/10
Season Average (as of 1.16): 7.8
posted by John Keegan | 11:12
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