This Christmas, I received a talking figure of Charlie Pace, one of my favorite characters from LOST,
which has been one of my predominant obsessions this past year. The
figure is amazingly detailed, marvelous from the little fold in the top
of his hoodie right down to the tips of his checkered shoes. But I
noticed that Charlie, sitting hunched over on a slab of airplane
wreckage, doodling on his fingers, seemed a bit forlorn. Since McFarlane
Toys declined to include Claire in its first series of LOST
toys, I couldn't bring him someone that would provoke that endearing
lop-sided grin. But if he couldn't have his ladylove, I figured I'd at
least furnish him with a mentor to guide him out of his heroin-induced
haze. And if that person just happened to be another of my favorite
characters, so be it...
John Locke is an incredibly compelling
character. Named after the English philosopher, he quickly establishes
himself as a leader, though of a different sort than take-charge Jack.
Locke tends to focus on one individual at a time, building up a
relationship and helping that person to work through his or her demons.
He is especially helpful to Charlie, though the young rocker also finds
his attention rather maddening. Of all the castaways, Locke seems to be
the least interested in getting rescued. In fact, it seems his whole
life has been building up to this moment, when, freed from the trappings
of contemporary society, he can lead a wilderness expedition and show
just how in tune he is with the island upon which he has landed. For the
most part, Locke seems like a very good man, brimming with wisdom and
concern for others, but there's another aspect to his personality,
something volatile simmering under the surface, and the religion he
builds around the island becomes dangerous and reminiscent of Lord of the Flies.
Nonetheless, I am a great fan of Locke, so it's pretty cool to see him
peering into that hatch whenever I sit down to have a bite to eat. I
think he ended up there because that's where there was enough space for
my brother Nathan to unload the package and assemble its contents: the
black speaker box, the batteries, the cardboard backdrop, the plastic
base and, of course, Locke himself. He was all in one piece when I got
home from work, having instructed Nathan earlier to assemble him for me,
and I gleefully pressed the button on the back to hear him snarl "Don't ever tell me what I can't do! Ever!"
with such ferocity that I jumped back, much to the amusement of Nathan,
who later noted that he wished he could record that snippet for his
alarm clock. That one is so startling that it's my favorite of the
three. However, "Do you wanna know a secret?" is appropriately
intriguing, and I get a kick out of synching it up with Charlie so that
the next press of a button reveals, "You don't know me! I'm a bloody
rock god!" Meanwhile, the reverence with which Locke whispers "I've
looked into the eye of this island... and what I saw... was beautiful"
is awe-inspiring.
Locke himself is meticulously detailed, at
least as good a likeness as Charlie and maybe better. In both cases, I'm
rather frustrated that their heads are bent down, but if you tilt them
upward you can get a good look at their faces. Or if you really want to
creep yourself out, you can make Locke's head do a 180 so he's staring
up at the sky backwards and upside-down. But I wouldn't recommend it.
His arms are moveable too, and to less unnerving ends, and if you want,
you can remove the hunting knife from one hand and the water bottle from
the other, though I'm not sure what you would do with them then, and
I'd worry about losing them, small as they are. Locke's all ready for
adventure with his trusty backpack, khaki pants and olive green vest,
all of which are equipped with plenty of pockets into which to stuff
equipment. And he does, though these items are not removable like the
bottle and knife. We're not quite sure what all he has in there, but he
seems pretty confident that he's prepared. There's a slight smile on his
face that could be interpreted as a grimace of determination. His
Scar-like... well... scar gleams crimson below his eye. His bald head,
not blessed by the shimmering smoothness brought on by a bout with a
corn field full of meteor rocks,
betrays a shadow of stubble. The watch around his wrist faces inward,
perhaps so he can pretend that it still tells the correct time. Or maybe
those waterlogged batteries weren't a problem...
His hardy
brown shoes refuse to confine themselves to the pegs reserved for them.
He stands at a tilt, the only way to keep him from toppling over. I
think it's a deliberate reflection of his refusal to conform to
society's rules. Appropriately, he is surrounded by jungle, from the
lush backdrop to the base, which features an assortment of leaves,
sticks, moss and other underbrush. The centerpiece, of course, is the
hatch, and he's eager to peer down inside and unveil its secrets.
Incidentally, Locke's base is considerably bigger than Charlie's, and he
towers over the poor lad like a giant... but then Charlie is not only
sitting but slouching, so he's really not quite as puny as he appears.
Locke set me back $17, which isn't bad considering the quality of the
reproduction and the inclusion of several props, the least noticeable of
which is a brochure from the Walkabout Tour that rejected our beloved
boar hunter. I didn't find it until the next day, after it occurred to
me that it was missing, though a brighter person than me would probably
have thought to look underneath the base long before I did. That's just
the little finishing touch on a plastic tribute to a phenomenal
character without whom Charlie - and probably several others - would be
even more lost than they are now.
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