Lost 2.9: "What Kate Did"

Written by Steven Maeda and Craig Wright
Directed by Paul Edwards

In which Kate’s decision to care for Sawyer brings up unexpected emotional memories and leads her to self-introspection, while Eko and Locke make a discovery about the Dharma film…


Status Report

Defying expectation can be a tricky business. When writing for a series that has been lauded for complex storytelling and character development, one might be fooled into thinking that answers can be simpler than they appear. The producers of “Lost”, in the most recent podcast (a truly useful fount of information and promotion), indicate that they felt it was time to address Kate’s past and put everything on the table.

It’s not that Kate’s original crime is somehow disappointing. As predicted, she killed her father, and her mother (the primary victim) was unwilling to see that it was a necessary evil. But it might be said that the writers wanted to soften the story a bit from what was originally suggested. “Born to Run” hinted at a far more abusive situation than was revealed in this episode, and perhaps that is why the revelation turned out to be so lackluster.

It’s entirely possible that the writers were going for something more subtle. There are elements introduced in this episode that clarify Kate’s interest in Jack and Sawyer, after all. Kate loves Jack for everything that she saw in Tom and sees in Jack. At least, she feels as though she should love Jack. But that’s because she’s drawn more to Sawyer. Unfortunately, Sawyer is far too similar to the kind of man who represented everything she hates.

Imagine how the hints in “Born to Run” might have intersected with the information in this episode. For years, Kate might have been abused by her step-father, with her mother taking physical abuse and making excuses. Kate might have been trapped. Then, learning that her step-father was in fact her biological father might have been a trigger for true violence. Her actions would have been more understandable.

Without the personal component, Kate’s motivations are harder to grasp. The implication is that Kate was not, in fact, justified in her actions. Kate unearthed the truth about Wayne and her mother, and that was simply enough to drive her to pre-meditated murder. Frankly, that’s not a very compelling argument, and it certainly doesn’t engender sympathy. This is where that subtlety question comes in: at what point is enough enough? When does murder become justified? And was Kate’s “father” correct in saying that there was something dark and violent inside Kate that allowed her to step over that line when others wouldn’t?

In the end, the love triangle is exactly where it was before. Jack is still the unfortunate embodiment of all the things that Kate loved about Tom, but with all the pesky non-Tom shortcomings. Kate still sees him as the chance to break a cycle she has worked up in her head. Sawyer is still the embodiment of all the things she hates but can’t seem to avoid. Thematically, Jack still represents the likely source of Kate’s redemption, and in turn, Kate is still the one likely to show Sawyer a better way.

Two elements exist within the narrative that could tie all of this personal drama to the island’s more unusual properties, however. The first is the easiest to dismiss: Sawyer’s apparent “channeling” of Wayne. It’s not at all hard to rationalize this. Kate was thinking about Wayne, running her past through her mind again and again, and so she was more than likely to interpret Sawyer’s feverish mutterings as a message from the grave. Transference, indeed!

But then there’s the horse. The very real horse, which seemed to know Kate. A horse that really shouldn’t be on the island. There’s simply no easy way to explain it other than to suggest that Kate has a way with animals that she doesn’t recognize. What the writers were trying to say with the horse is not entirely clear, other than the fact that seeing the horse further triggered Kate’s memory dump.

Thankfully, the writers don’t leave the entire episode to the exploration of Kate’s confused heart. There’s also the Locke/Eko interaction, which is far more intriguing. As predicted, Locke and Eko do not work off the same page. Eko seems to have Locke worked out in a matter of moments: Locke loves to mistake coincidence for fate. Eko, on the other hand, takes a fairly rational and analytical approach to his religious mysticism.

So where Locke sees the “orientation film” as something of a sign from his island gods, Eko knows it to be the work of man. And as such, Eko clearly does not attach some vast importance or significance to the hatch and its broader context. Eko may ultimately agree with Locke’s approach (continuing to follow the instructions in the film), but the philosophies differ substantially. Eko seems poised to challenge every one of Locke’s assumptions, and that ought to lead to serious and passionate debate in future episodes.

In that respect, Eko sits squarely between Jack and Locke on the “faith vs. reason” continuum. Jack is very much the pragmatic leader, to a fault. Would he be willing to consider a religiously-motivated interpretation of events? Locke, of course, gives every moment a mystical significance, so long as it fits within the point of view that leaves him as High Priest of the Island. Eko, on the other hand, seems to live within his religious convictions, while also approaching situations from a pragmatic point of view. While Eko will certainly clash with Locke over how to interpret events on the island, he will also challenge Jack’s desire to leave faith or belief out of the equation.

From a “big picture” perspective, there’s also Michael’s apparent conversation with Walt via the computer. A number of explanations could be offered, but the most obvious centers on the long-held assumption that the Others are, in fact, the remnants of those who began and maintained the Dharma Initiative. If the whole island was meant as a complex experiment, then telling people not to use the computer for communication with the outside world would be an obvious part of that social experiment. Any communication attempts or triggers would come from the Dharma Initiative personnel as a test; if Walt is being protected by the Others, kept from being part of the grand experiment in social conditioning, then he would have access to the computer network.

That is the more rational explanation: that the prohibition has little or no actual meaning beyond the test protocol of the Dharma experiment. It supports the idea that there is, in fact, no “incident” that would result should the “numbers” not be entered. The question is whether or not Michael can identify networking infrastructure on the old equipment; it shouldn’t be that hard.

Certain key questions emerge: Why was the film broken into pieces and kept in different stations on the island? Are there other parts of the film scattered in other stations on the island? How does all of this play into the purpose of the island itself? And how does the Hanso Foundation relate to any of this, since the producers have endlessly hinted that it’s a huge part of the mythology?

As for the other characters, once again, they seem to be left to the background. Still, they are present, and they serve various functions. Most importantly, perhaps, Sayid is left to deal with Shannon’s death, which has led him momentarily to grief rather than rage. Ana Lucia, in relation to that, still cannot bring herself to integrate fully with the JackLocke Tribe. Their inevitable confrontation is thereby postponed, which makes sense.

Jin and Sun seem to have taken temporary residence in the Love Shack, which is good to see. Sun plays an important role in terms of Kate’s plot thread as well. Kate has the chance to avoid her own issues by letting Sun take care of Sawyer. Sun is, essentially, her excuse to keep running. When Kate chooses to dismiss Sun and take care of Sawyer herself, she is taking an important step in owning her past and what it means to her.

One odd scene takes place between Jack and Hurley. Hurley essentially tells Jack that he’s working out his anger with Sawyer by taking on Sawyer’s job functions with a dose of resentment. That’s all well and good, but is he really the character to be making that observation? It felt like little more than a chance to remind the audience that Hurley had been in a mental hospital. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that Libby, the more logical choice, wouldn’t know the history between Jack and Sawyer, but that could have been worked out.

For all that it covered a lot of distinctly second season issues, this felt more like one of the first season episodes. Elements of the big picture were advanced, however incrementally, while Kate’s personal issues were once again on the table. Had the episode dealt entirely with Kate and her past, then the lack of complexity might have made this a disappointment. However, the Eko/Locke scenes alone were worth the time spent, and while some of the elements were vexing, the story moved forward.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode finally provided the answer to many questions about Kate, but in that muddled process, it came somewhat short of the edgy expectations that previous episodes had generated. The tone is closer to that of a first season episode, which is a good sign for the future, and there is a nice balance between personal issues and the big picture.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 7/10