Soldato
Three years ago I wrote these words in this very thread:
"Lindelof is really good at building immersive background stories. It's pleasure to watch. But. The one thing that Lindelof does not grasp even after all this time, is that mini stories only matter if they are used to propel larger idea. What we see (in Leftovers) serves no purpose, builds no larger story, and is just a distraction, a device invented with a sole purpose of wasting our time. You are just being lead by the nose though a minefield of (brilliantly presented but) equally unexplained and often quickly dismissed WTF devices. The moment you realise that, you know it's journey to nowhere."
I stand by that. Lindelof is a hack. He's one of those people we all met in life - brilliantly webs immersive story with minute details about setting, weather, what the air felt like, the feelings, the emotions, just for it to end with nothing, useless trivia - like "and then I bought the drink from corner shop and gone home". The type of story teller that can sell a product when there is no product. Ice to eskimo's type of tall tale spinner. Builds a moment, sucks you in. And then nothing. Bapcus. It's just a "cool story bro". It's just a facade. It amounts to nothing. That's what Lindelof does every single time he writes something.
And that's my prediction for Leftovers finale. No questions will be answered. No mysteries will be explained. He will waste your time. He will deliver chain of brilliant moments in 28 hours across 3 years that amount to absolutely nothing. You will summarise his story to yourself in under 3 minutes and realise it was nothing. The king was naked. It was a bad joke. And when he does and you are left (over) screaming at your TV set in anger, I want you to imagine Lindelof not as a harmless storyteller that plays everyone afool. I want you to imagine him as the type of sleaze that lures people in to his table with a story, roofies their drink and they never get a full picture of what happened on the night. And then you'll promise yourself to never ever fall for it again. You will never waste another hour on anything Lindelof wrote again, OK?
"Lindelof is really good at building immersive background stories. It's pleasure to watch. But. The one thing that Lindelof does not grasp even after all this time, is that mini stories only matter if they are used to propel larger idea. What we see (in Leftovers) serves no purpose, builds no larger story, and is just a distraction, a device invented with a sole purpose of wasting our time. You are just being lead by the nose though a minefield of (brilliantly presented but) equally unexplained and often quickly dismissed WTF devices. The moment you realise that, you know it's journey to nowhere."
I stand by that. Lindelof is a hack. He's one of those people we all met in life - brilliantly webs immersive story with minute details about setting, weather, what the air felt like, the feelings, the emotions, just for it to end with nothing, useless trivia - like "and then I bought the drink from corner shop and gone home". The type of story teller that can sell a product when there is no product. Ice to eskimo's type of tall tale spinner. Builds a moment, sucks you in. And then nothing. Bapcus. It's just a "cool story bro". It's just a facade. It amounts to nothing. That's what Lindelof does every single time he writes something.
And that's my prediction for Leftovers finale. No questions will be answered. No mysteries will be explained. He will waste your time. He will deliver chain of brilliant moments in 28 hours across 3 years that amount to absolutely nothing. You will summarise his story to yourself in under 3 minutes and realise it was nothing. The king was naked. It was a bad joke. And when he does and you are left (over) screaming at your TV set in anger, I want you to imagine Lindelof not as a harmless storyteller that plays everyone afool. I want you to imagine him as the type of sleaze that lures people in to his table with a story, roofies their drink and they never get a full picture of what happened on the night. And then you'll promise yourself to never ever fall for it again. You will never waste another hour on anything Lindelof wrote again, OK?