A long time ago in a blog far, far away, I wrote a somewhat scathing missive about idiots who complain that Lost is trying to emulate Twin Peaks. I'd like, if I may, to go back to that for a moment.
I finally got around to watching the series finale on the weekend. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm WAY behind the times. But that's what happens when you don't have cable and have to wait for everything you want to see to come out on DVD. Cons: I'm behind and have to very carefully limit my web browsing so I don't spoil things for myself. Pros: I can watch whatever I want, whenever I want, without the constant annoyance that is commercial advertising. So there. (And now would be a good time to mention that if you're more behind the times than I am and actually care about how Lost turns out, there are NO spoilers here. Except that the smoke monster is actually The Other Guy From Wham!. Who knew?)
So let's get back to my somewhat scathing missive. I still stand by everything that I say, the highlight I believe to be my statement that Burt Reynolds equals Hitler for the sole reason that they both have mustaches. To recap, the similarities between Lost and Twin Peaks are as follows:
- Both have trees
- Weird things happen
This is where, now that I've finally completed the entire series, I'd like to make an addition. Twin Peaks and Lost are very similar, but not for the reason(s) you probably think. They're similar to ME in a very personal way that has absolutely nothing to do with convoluted plots or trees.
Not since Twin Peaks have I had such horrible separation anxiety after finishing a television series.
Every single time I've watched the Twin Peaks series through (and it's been a great many), I've felt very melancholy at the end. This isn't because of how the show turns out, and I'm not going to go into it here since either you know or you don't by this stage of the game and it's too long to explain. It's because I end up feeling very, very attached to the incredibly well-developed characters. Even though they all have flaws and some of them annoy the crap out of you, they end up being almost like friends - people you expect to see every week who constantly surprise you and whom you can't wait to learn more about, good or bad. And when they're gone, you miss them. A lot. I miss John Locke almost as much as I miss Special Agent Dale Cooper.
Wham. There's your similarity.
The End.
Posted via email from the marvelous world of robynn holmström
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