In Kung Fu Panda 2, Po goes on a journey to discover his inner peace. He accomplishes this momentous task by discovering himself, once again. The movie leaves off with a nice teaser of Po’s father discovering that he is still alive, setting us all up for what seems to be a Kung Fu Panda 3, where Po will have to rediscover his identity for a third time, due to the impending meeting of his parents.

I found this continual self-discovery slightly annoying at first. Po discovers himself. Po discovers himself again. Po is likely to have to discover himself a third time. It’s as if the good folks at DreamWorks Animation just couldn’t figure out another story surrounding the Dragon Warrior legacy. Goodness knows, it’s hard to beat a good panda on the big screen so, who really cares about the story?
*Note: Don’t even get me started on the HORRIFIC voice acting of Angelina Jolie (Tigress) in this movie… I love me some Angelina, but she is an actress with her expressions, not her voice, and this movie proves it.

I was content to rip this movie’s plot apart (and probably will still) until I realized that this view of constant self-rediscovery is in fact the misguided premise of most of our lives. I don’t think it’s supposed to be.

We tend to define ourselves by what makes us money. No matter how you slice it, this method of defining ourselves places money at the root of who we ARE. I mean, sure, I like money. If you say you don’t like money, you’re a liar. Get off my blog, liar face! If you think about it long enough, it’ll make you sad. When faced with the question of “Who are you?” the man that loves restoring cars in his garage, loves his kids and his wife, and goes to car shows with his son on the weekends, answers, “I’m a UPS driver.” This man is a liar face, and he doesn’t even know it!

I’m not saying that someone is or isn’t what they do, necessarily. I’m saying the waters have been muddied, and in an attempt to purify them, I’m asking you to consider what you are passionate about as a definition of who you are. I am personally not interested in restoring cars, and I’m most certainly not interested in being a UPS driver. But if I had to support my family by doing something I was NOT passionate about, I would probably go for being a UPS driver because of the good pay and benefits… but does that mean I just redefined myself on the inside?

My friend Joe Stevens is an incredibly gifted musician. He has traveled the country, playing many concerts in front of many people. He is one of those rare musicians I’ve encountered where mere talent is left in the dust by sheer undeniable God-given ability. Recently, Joe took on a job delivering bread to stores to support his wife and new baby boy. I’ve actually heard Joe answer the question “What do you do?” with “I have a bread route.” Joe is not technically incorrect. He does that thing he said. The problem is, we keep trying to define each other by what we do to make money. Money seems to have a firm grasp on our identities! You might deliver bread, Joe Stevens, but you are in fact a musician, through and through. Delivering bread is just a little annoyance you have to deal with while on this blue marble.

I made this mistake recently, when my buddy Rich Kirkpatrick and his daughter came to visit from California. Rich was asking me what exactly I’m trying to accomplish with my career, and I said, “My goal is to be a feature film director, but I’m not making much money with my films right now.” Rich basically answered, “What does that have to do with anything?” I was a little stunned by his Jesus-style, question-for-question wisdom and had little to say in response. He said, “You’re a filmmaker. That’s who you are.”

I have various ways I pick up money when I need it, but the more I thought about it, he’s totally right. All totaled, I have written, directed, filmed, and edited over 30 short films, 7 music videos, 2 commercials, and various EPK and interview type projects. Who’s to say that I’m not a filmmaker? That’s who I am. One day, I may have to go drive a UPS truck, but I’m still going to be a filmmaker. Joe Stevens is still a musician. And Elvis Presley is still alive (ba ha ha!).

You have a passion. If you stop pursuing it, cultivating it, practicing it, you’re going to end up dead inside (depressed). You’ll still be “doing” something that others will try to define you by, but they’ll still be wrong because what you are “doing” left you empty and without a sense of purpose. You have a purpose, and that purpose is your passion. Some of us are just a little lucky and make money from that passion, but it’s just an added little bonus to us; it’s not WHY we do what we do. Keep at that passion! It may not turn into being lucrative, but you are still defined by it. And the next time someone makes the mistake of asking you what you do, answer them with a hearty, “I am a [fill in your passion], but I [fill in your annoyance] just to pay the bills… you know how it is.”

Your friend,
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(click to enlarge image)

I’m not sure why I had so many requests for my opinions of Lost, but being as I have, I wanted to write a blog to minimize my facial repetition in public situations and preface it by making you fully aware that I have no bias towards the series (if anything, a bias against it). I also would like to note that I’m fully aware of the writer’s strike in the middle of Lost’s life. I will not be taking that into account here because it still aired. I don’t make excuses to you when I run out of time on a YouTube video and have fewer shots in it as a result, therefore, I simply refuse to give any leeway to a nationally broadcast television series with millions of fans. With that, I now openly dive into the criticism… er… I mean, the review.

My mother is to blame. At Christmas, I open a gift addressed to Amy and myself. I tear open the wrapping paper like a ravenous bear opens up a carcass and discover something I never asked for; Lost season 1. I am excited, realizing how many hours of famous roller coaster plot twists await me. We took it home and actually waited a couple of weeks before diving into the madness that would consume our evenings for weeks to come. Yes, we knocked out the entire series of Lost in 4 weeks flat (January 15th – February 11th)! It was… our nightlife.

A few character summaries:

From Lost season 1, disc 1, eps. 1-4, we were royally hooked. All of the seasons have blurred together in my mind, but I was an instant fan of Hurley. From beginning to end, Hurley remained loyal and true. He was one of the extremely few non-good-looking people on the island (let’s face it, Oceanic flight 815 was mostly filled with Vanity Fair models). He was a nerd. He loved Star Wars. He was nice and helpful. He was someone I identified with, and so was Charlie. He was kind. He suffered momentary craziness. He had major struggles. He was a musician. He was nice and helpful (momentary craziness excluded). He was someone I identified with.

I never understood the fascination with Kate. Quite frankly, she bugged the heck out of me. She jumped from Jack to Sawyer and back again like frogs enjoying lily pads on a warm spring day. I didn’t really see Jack’s character putting up with such nonsense, but it was there, regardless. Poor Jack. He was a straight-as-an-arrow kind of guy; a truly trustworthy fellow. He was a leader. He did what had to be done to save his people, even at the expense of his own health. He didn’t deserve the frustration of Kate. He deserved better. Sawyer, however, deserved every bit of the frustration of Kate. He was a jerk. He was a major jerk. He was a huge, ridiculously major jerk-face. I will never ever understand the American culture’s fascination and praise of the ultra-jerk. I actually know people who started acting like Dr. Cox in Scrubs, due to his apparent coolness in treating everyone like dirt. It’s a good time in history to be all about yourself, Americans, so go grab some poo and fling it at your nearest random acquaintance if you want to gain a new best friend.

I never trusted Locke. From beginning to end, I found Locke to be too in love with the island to be trusted. I didn’t dislike him. I just felt that handing him my trust would be akin to walking on glass. Maybe it was just the scar over his right eye, drudging up memories of Scar from The Lion King. We all know that people with scars on their faces cannot be trusted. This fact is well-known in the movie world. A scar is a sure-fire way to capture the audience’s emotions and cause them to cast insta-hate onto the character who was unfortunate enough to suffer a permanently maiming tragedy. Although I never trusted him, I did actually begin feeling sorry for him. I wanted Locke and Charlie the Unicorn to meet in a I-Had-My-Kidney-Stolen support group and hug (Charlie the Unicorn). Even Charlie the Unicorn had it better than Locke, seeing as his kidney was stolen by crazy unicorn lightweights and Locke’s by his very own father. And then, just to tie things up in a pretty bow, Locke’s dear old dad shoves him out of an eight-story window, rendering him a paraplegic. Sorry Locke.

Jin and Sun Kwon were also among my faves. Jin was steadfast and true to his wife, weeding out the bad traits he had over time. I don’t know about you, but I rarely see that one on TV. He had an extremist’s view of modesty, but I don’t disagree with him to some degree. After all, I don’t want people gaping at my wife’s boobs either. Jin and I are actually planning on starting a “Leggings Are Not Pants” Facebook group and by extension, revolution. It’s a good time to pursue an entertainment career as an American woman. If you don’t believe me, compare YouTube views of poor video quality booby-bearing babes with YouTube views of poor video quality non-booby-bearing bros. I rest my case. Sun was sweet and shy, but she could also lay down the law when needed. She reminded me a lot of my own wife (her words first, then mine). Sun grew up filthy rich, but somehow managed to learn how to cultivate the land. I was enthralled every time I was given a flashback of the Kwons in their society. Asian culture intrigues me (specifically, their sense of “honor”), and I hope to travel there one day and do some majoring filming.

Mr. Eko was one sweetastic dude. He had one heck of a rough past, but he turned around. I loved that guy. There is one thing, however, I always see on TV/in movies when it comes to religion; Christian = Catholic. Always. It’s almost as if “they” have never seen a statistics study on American religions before, which means they must not have Google access. We’re mostly protestants, baby! And I have rarely met a devout Catholic; mostly just born-that-way, show-up-at-Easter Catholics. Maybe that type has just been my experience, but it doesn’t usurp the studies and polls of American religions, stating that “majority rules” places “us” as protestants. Maybe “Hollywood” just thinks Catholic is cool or the obviousness of cathedrals and their Jesus ornamentations make it apparent that this person is in fact a Christian to all of us dense audience members who would otherwise not get it. Whatever the case may be, in Hollywood, facial scars equal bad, marital affairs will always happen, and Christians must be Catholic.

I loved Desmond Hume, and now, I often conclude my sentences with “brotha.” It tickles my Irish roots in a good way.

The series that is Lost:

Simply put, seasons 1-4 were phenomenal. Amy and I were hooked on the Lost roller coaster. The whole thing was genius. The character development was insanely complex. Lost was mysterious and every revelation delivered a strong and satisfying “Aha!” moment for us. The tension and uncertainty of the “Execute” button in the hatch successfully stressed me out for the duration of its existence. The numbers 4 8 15 16 23 42 kept us calculating the meaning of every number thrown out in the series. The limited understanding we were given of the “others” and the “smoke monster” kept dashing into the jungle an exciting and unpredictable experience, regardless of the reason for a character’s said dashing. Despite his petite size, Benjamin Linus was terrifyingly powerful and all-knowing. The Dharma Initiative instructional videos were history lessons I actually enjoyed delving into. Sawyer’s blunt metaphorical speech kept me laughing; a personal favorite being when he pulled a “long con” to acquire all the guns from the hatch and said, “There’s a new sheriff in town!” It was all grand. It was all magnificent. Lost was poised to become my new recommendation for anyone and everyone looking to waste away hours of their lives in visual and auditorial ecstasy. Then, we discovered two more seasons.

“Time travel.”
“Time travel?”
“Seriously, time travel.”
What is this, Star Trek? I love Star Trek. I’m a major sci-fi lover, but this island, these characters, and time travel just didn’t mix well. Setting off a nuke causes time travel? The big secret of the island was that it was a type of Pandora’s box that had to be protected from the world? Remove the cork in the water and kaboom? Jacob turned his brother into the smoke monster accidentally? That’s not really Locke? It’s the smoke monster? He’s stuck that way now? They’re all dead at the end and have to remember their crappy lives before they can head into the light?

So, what the heck happened to this series? I think what we have here is a classic example of great writing sprinkling in shock and awe moments in seasons 1-4, shifting to shock and awe moments sprinkling in good writing in seasons 5-6. Any number of things could cause this. Maybe the writers couldn’t figure out how to wrap everything up so, they just started making up stuff that sorta fit in. Maybe the writers were being pressured by the network for better ratings and had to start shocking the undivided attention out of us, at the expense of good writing, causing social media to explode with “You’ll never believe what happened on Lost” statements. Whatever the case may be, I feel like our roller coaster ascended to the final apex before the anticipated gut-wrenching drop to put all other gut-wrenching drops to shame, only to be brought down slowly and gently with a voice coming over the speakers saying, “Thank you for riding Oceanic coasters 815. Have a nice life,” and all of us asking, “Is that it? You gave us the world’s best roller coaster, and you thought it would be an awesome idea to sike us out at the last drop by not actually letting us have it?” That’s a fantastic tactic from season to unending season, but for a series finale, you had better pony up the answers to all the questions you raised.

Conclusion:

If you feel my review is open-ended with a loose or abrupt conclusion, good; that’s how I felt about Lost. How would I have done it? I’m not sure. I’ve only had four weeks to think about it. I can tell you that I could have stomached the time travel as a momentary lapse of writing judgement, had it not been for the resurrected Locke not being the real Locke. The smoke monster posing as Locke (and being inexplicably “stuck” that way) is what put the final nail in the Shepard coffin for me. I think a much MUCH better story would have been to make the island a living entity that resurrects the real Locke because they have a sort of weird marriage thing going on. That union would have made for one very dangerous guy with a facial scar. I think Jacob should have stayed a fabrication of Benjamin Linus and Locke the new leader of the “others.” I think no one except the “others” should have gotten off the island, except at the very end of season 5, being saved by Penny’s determination to find Desmond, leaving the entirety of season 6 to be devoted to Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Juliette, Ben, Sayid, and Hurley taking down Locke and rendering the island powerless against the world without a human counterpart. Then, maybe the last scene of the last episode showing Walt return as an adult and picking up an old knife left be Locke and smiling at the island or something like that (that was a big idea leap out of nowhere just then).

Lost held my attention and intrigue for three glorious weeks, but in the end let me down. My wife and I were just ready to get it over with, by the end of season 5. There were any number of paths to be taken in order to pull the series into an epic conclusion. The writers of Lost simply blindfolded themselves and spread out in different directions, combining the things they found into concoctions that never should have been combined in search of ratings… or creativity… or epicness… basically, something good they never found. They should have been more careful. Because now, if I ever find a nuke lying around, I’m going to set it off so that I can travel back in time and warn myself to stop after season 4 of Lost. Of course, what’s done is done, and no one can change the past, except for the people that managed to change the past in Lost, despite the fact that they can’t change the past.

-Page Lynch
Director/DP/Writer/Photographer/Colorist

Featured Image linked from: http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/The_Numbers

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