Stretch Your Owl's Wings With the Harry Potter Postcard Set

It’s been more than two years now since J. K. Rowling brought her Harry Potter series to a close, but my passion for the boy wizard and all of his friends has not dimmed. So I was delighted when my friends Erica and Art, who have not yet succumbed to the magic of Harry but know how thoroughly I have, presented me with two Harry Potter postcard sets for Christmas.

This particular set features Harry himself. It comes in an attractive box that contains a pack of 15 postcards and a small figurine of Harry ready to do battle. The cards are sturdy and about six inches in length and four inches high. Each depicts a full-color scene from one of the movies. While the sixth movie is not represented, the first five are.

Hence, there’s Harry as an adorable 11-year-old with his owl Hedwig on his arm; 12-year-old Harry dueling as ridiculous teacher Gilderoy Lockhart looks on; 13-year-old Harry soaring through the skies on Buckbeak the Hippogriff; 14-year-old Harry contemplating the mysteries of his dragon egg; and 15-year-old Harry gazing pensively ahead of him, burdened with too many responsibilities. It looks to me as though there are three stills from each of the first five movies, though some are harder to identify as they are close-up shots rather than iconic moments in the story.

On the back of each postcard, “Harry Potter” is in the top left-hand corner, written in the jagged font associated with the presentation of his name in the movie titles. There are lines on the right on which to write a person’s address, while the stamp spot has a picture of a flying owl. Of course, since these won’t really be sent by owl post, an actual stamp will be required, but there’s enough room that affixing the stamp next to the faux stamp really isn’t a problem.

The Harry figure is about two inches in height and stands on a rocky base. I would say he’s modeled after Harry in the fifth movie; his hair is short and neat, and he’s looking pretty grown up. He’s dressed all in black, with a white collar and red tie barely visible. His stance is one of readiness, and his wand is outstretched. For the tiny size of the figure, it’s very recognizable as Harry.

Similarly, my Dumbledore figure is about two and a half inches high, and he stands in attack position, though he seems to have already launched an offensive, judging by the ferocious look on his face. He’s dressed in flowing blue robes trimmed with silver, and his white hair whips around him as though in a breeze. He also stands on a base, but his looks like stone-patterned tile and is less textured. Meanwhile, his postcards follow the same basic pattern as Harry’s, though they are definitely skewed more toward later movies, with only one featuring Richard Harris. Everything else is Michael Gambon.

There are five other sets in this series, and collector that I am, I’m tempted to pick up a couple of them, particularly Hagrid, as I’ve always had a huge soft spot for the burly half-giant gamekeeper. The rest are Hermione, Ron, Voldemort and - rather curiously, since he’s only been in one movie so far - Dobby the House Elf. The fact that I’ve never seen them in stores may slow my impulses, though they’re not too hard to come by online. We’ll see. But for now, I have 30 postcards to admire and probably send to fellow Potter-loving friends eventually. If only I could get an owl to deliver them for me...

Mount Doom Frodo Is Glad to Be With Samwise Gamgee

When I went to Massachusetts in June, one of the souvenirs I brought home was the Mount Doom Sam figure that I found in Harrison’s Comic Book shop in Salem. I found it hard to resist the stalwart hobbit who bravely bellowed, “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!” I brought him home and gave him a place of honor on the piano. But something seemed to be missing. Where was the object of Samwise’s loyalty? When I discovered that this Sam figure had a specific complement, one who perched precariously on a rock grazed by molten lava and whispered, “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things,” I decided that if I ever found myself a few dollars short of the magic $25 mark on Amazon, I’d use Mount Doom Frodo to make up the difference. I didn’t have to wait too long.

July brought with it a new album from Celtic Thunder, my favorite musical discovery of the past year, as well as news that my old friends Simon and Garfunkel had recently released an album culled from concerts in 1969. When I saw that Amazon was offering both at half-price, I knew there was no point in delaying my order, and Frodo gave me just the boost I needed to push it into free shipping territory. Now I have Frodo and Sam standing together on the piano, solemnly surveying the living room.

Like Sam, Frodo has 29 points of articulation. Wrists, ankles, elbows, knees, neck… You name it, it’s moveable. Clearly this is designed to be a fully functional toy rather than just a display piece. As a result, Frodo looks a little clunkier than he would with less articulation, especially around the upper legs, but I’d say it’s a worthwhile trade-off. Frodo’s skin is grimy, and his feet are covered in hobbitish hair. The hair on his head is wavy and the same dark shade of brown, and the expression on his face looks vaguely melancholy. Frodo wears a dingy button-up shirt of a light brownish-off-white color. The top button is unbuttoned, and the Ring on the chain is clearly visible. His pants are dark brown with matching suspenders. None of the clothes are removable, nor is the Ring, and while Sam carries the dagger Sting, Frodo has no weapon to brandish.

Like Sam, Frodo stands about four and a half inches tall, though his base is a bit taller than Sam’s. The color of the rock is a bit darker, and to the side is a puddle of fiery red lava threatening to engulf a smaller rock. Each of Frodo’s feet has a hole in the bottom, allowing them to fit onto the pegs on the base. Sam fits more easily onto the pegs than Frodo does, but with a little persuasion he’ll stay put. Of course, it’s also the base that has the built-in sound chip, triggered by pushing in a knob of rock on the front. Sam has two lines, but Frodo has just the one. I can’t complain much about that, since it’s my favorite of Frodo’s lines in the movie, but Elijah Wood’s whispery delivery makes him a little harder to understand than Sam. Nonetheless, it’s a great feature.

I recommend hanging onto the back of the package, which gives instructions on how to work Frodo, including how to install the three LR44 button cell batteries. The little write-up is nice too, though I think the writer of the paragraph-long description could have done with a quick refresher course on the importance of agreement of tenses. Also, given the quote and the base, it seems he should be described as stumbling down the slopes of Mount Doom instead of up.

On the whole, I think I prefer the Sam figure, but Frodo is still a great likeness, and it seems fitting to reunite the two determined questers at the final stage of their journey. Prices on Amazon fluctuate, but I think I paid seven dollars for mine, which is half of what I paid for Sam. (That’ll teach me that Amazon is usually the best place to go; Sam is about the same price there as Frodo is.) If you’re a fan of Lord of the Rings, especially the movies, Mount Doom Frodo is a great catch, especially in tandem with Sam.

Spread Some Cheer With the Care Bears Vending Machine Toys

Ever since I was little, I've loved stopping at the toy vending machines that tend to be positioned in the entryways of stores like K-Mart and Tops. Up until recently, I could count on my quarters buying me something completely random and probably pretty junky. But the past five years or so has seen a great improvement in these vending machine toys. Now, most machines contain only one type of toy, so you're guaranteed to get a bouncy ball or a Peek-a-Pooh or a Lord of the Rings mini-bust... or a Care Bear. At the mall where I have spent several seasons as a kiosk attendant, there used to be an enormously tall machine filled with plastic Care Bears for fifty cents each. I often stopped by after work to buy one, and I was sad when I returned one year to find the machine gone.

The machine invited Care Bears enthusiasts to collect all 32 bears, which I never managed to do. However, it's really just eight different bears in four poses each. I did manage to get one of each bear, so that was good enough for me, though I've since given away most of my duplicate bears and wish I had easy access to another supply, as they make great little just-because presents. To paraphrase A. A. Milne, no one can be un-cheered by a Care Bear. Just to be on the safe side, however, the makers of this collection omitted Grumpy Bear, a standout among his perpetually smiling pals because of the stormcloud on his tummy and the scowl on his face. Like Eeyore, he grumbles a lot, but he's lovable nonetheless, and I wish he had been included. Indeed, it would be great if there really were 32 different bears, not to mention the Care Bear Cousins. Maybe they'll consider another line in the future; Peek-a-Pooh is still going strong after about 20 sets.

The eight bears available in this set are Friend Bear, Wish Bear, Cheer Bear, Share Bear, Love-a-Lot Bear, Good Luck Bear, Bedtime Bear and Funshine Bear. Each of the bears is a different color, though their snouts and stomachs are white. Their noses and the pads of their paws are heart-shaped and a darker shade of their fur color. Each also has a red heart located near his or her tail. My favorite is Good Luck Bear, who is green and has a four-leaf clover on his tummy. This is the one I was most excited to get, and though my Dad and brother aren't exactly the Care Bear enthusiasts I am, each of them gladly accepted one of these as token of luck and Irish heritage.

Wish Bear is halfway between green and blue, a pastel sort of sea green. She has a shooting star on her tummy. Bedtime Bear is all blue with a dark blue crescent moon on his tummy. Share Bear is pinky-purple, with interlocking heart-stamped lollipops on her tummy, while Love-a-Lot Bear is dark pink with two hearts on her tummy. Pale pink Cheer Bear has a rainbow on her tummy. Orange Friend Bear has interlocking flowers on her tummy, and yellow Funshine Bear sports a smiling sun on his. Each one wears a happy expression, with differing degrees of the smiling mouth exposed.

All of the bears are in seated positions, and there is no articulation to them. The biggest variation among the poses involves the arms. Two of the poses have both arms stretched out, though in one, the bear looks straight ahead, while in the other, his or her head is turned to the left. In the other two poses, the left arm is outstretched, but in one, the right paw rests on the knee, while in the other it rests near the mouth in a pensive position. I don't know that I can say I prefer one pose over the others; all are equally cute. These figures stand on their own with no trouble. I keep them in a cluster on my piano, though I will occasionally move them elsewhere in order to entertain myself with them. I especially had fun last week when we had a downpour that lasted all morning. I brought out several props from my Pooh's Friendly Places play sets, as the tiny figures of Pooh, Piglet and pals that came with those sets are fairly comparable in size to these one and a half inch-tall bears. I especially had fun placing pairs of bears in Piglet's ornate bathtub and sending them to float along in our neighbor's front-yard lake.

Because of their diminutive size I can't really recommend these toys for anyone under the age of four or so, but older children ought to have fun with them, as they are sturdy, colorful and just plain fun. They make terrific add-ons to birthday presents - just tape one to the package - or random pick-me-uppers to be send through the mail or given in person. You could also place them on top of a cake if you wanted to, or stick them in Easter eggs and make a hunt extra fun. Or hand them over to an aspiring juggler and see how he manages with them. There are all sorts of possibilities with these little bears, and if you don't happen to have a vending machine in your area that sells them, they're pretty easy to find online. A set containing one of each is available on Amazon for four dollars; another containing a random assortment of 50 goes for $25. If I ever find myself stuck for a fun giveaway item for a party or event, I may spring for that. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the ten bears I have and contemplate who could do with a little extra cheer in her day. One of my remaining duplicates is Friend Bear, the other Love-a-Lot. Both are poised to be a little plastic stand-in for an in-person hug, because spreading goodwill is what Care Bears do best.

Mount Doom Sam Declares, "I Can't Carry It For You, But I Can Carry You!"

The Return of the King, the final installment in Peter Jackson's epic film adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, is filled with moments that took my breath away. Many of them involve innocent young Pippin: his traumatic departure from best friend Merry, his golden-voiced recitation of an old hobbit walking song, his discussion about death with the sage Gandalf. But if I had to pin the "most iconic" award on any one scene in the film, its star would be not Pippin but Samwise, which is something of a relief to me, as Sam has always been my favorite character and I hated to see him overshadowed entirely.

I speak, of course, of the instance capturing both Sam's rustic simplicity and his heroism, which is inspired by fierce loyalty. As the putrid air of Mordor threatens to engulf them, Sam takes comfort in his recollection of the bucolic Shire. "Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" he asks the tormented Frodo, who doesn't. And that's when Sam's great Hero Moment comes. After appealing to his master to be rid of the Ring once and for all, he bellows, "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!" And he does, as noble music swells. Several years ago, I purchased a poster-sized calendar in which the photo for the month of January featured this scene. That calendar hangs on my wall today, still reading January 2005; I never turned the page.

On my recent trip to Salem, Massachusetts, I found myself in Harrison's, a comic book store with the most magnificent assortment of geeky collectibles I've ever seen, short of eBay or Amazon. Their Lord of the Rings selection was especially impressive, so I spent some time looking through the figures. I'm glad I took the time to take each box off the peg rather than simply trusting, as was my initial impulse, that everything behind the front figure was the same. If I hadn't done some digging, I never would have found Mount Doom Sam, the one action figure in the bunch whose allure I absolutely could not resist. Even before I activated the sound chip, I suspected that I would be taking Sam home with me, but when a touch of the button hidden in the rocky brown base yielded "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!" my decision was made.

That sound clip is probably my favorite part of the figure. I only wish that Sam, like the larger LOST figures I have scattered around my room, played more than two clips. The other is the panicked "Throw it in the fire!" which is certainly fitting, but I would have loved the inclusion of the wistful "Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" That would have made this figure just about perfect. (Upon investigation, I see that Mount Doom Frodo is available online, and for about half what I paid for Sam; I'm mightily tempted to unite these bosom buddies, especially since Frodo's lone quote - "I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things" - is my favorite of his lines from the Mount Doom portion, and maybe the whole film.)

As the box announces, Sam boasts 29 points of articulation, including the neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, middle, legs, knees and ankles. The only problem with all the articulation is that the presence of so many hinges makes the figure look a tad clunky in places, like the abdomen and the knees. His feet come equipped with holes that allow him to fit on pegs on the plastic base, but there's no need to keep him there, as long as you understand that getting him to stand up properly on his own two feet is tricky. Of course, like the LOST figures, his feet are a bit ornery about staying in place on the stand as well, though I eventually got them to cooperate.

Sam stands about four and a half inches tall, maybe a quarter of an inch shorter than MacFarlane's Charlie Pace, but Charlie is seated and hunched over. So Sam is considerably smaller than those figures, and consequently not quite as detailed, though the likeness is still quite acceptable. His feet are dirty and covered with hair, and his hands are grimy. On his face is a rather blank expression; I'd read it as determined, but it's rather nondescript. Sam's hair is a wavy brown, and he wears dark pants and suspenders and a lighter shirt and vest. All are so dingy that color is hard to determine, but varying degrees of brownish-green probably covers it. Attached to his shirt is the sheath for the dagger Sting, which is as good as a sword to a hobbit. Sting itself is included too, but you have to get it out of the packaging and stick it in the sheath yourself. If you choose, you can also equip Sam for battle by placing Sting in his hand.

I'm not one to leave action figures pristine in their packaging, but I would recommend hanging onto the cardboard portion of the box. On the front, behind the area where Sam is encased in plastic, is a nifty map of Middle-Earth. The back, meanwhile, includes a description of the circumstances in which this version of Sam finds himself. I can just hear the strains of Shore's majestic score rise up as I read the paragraph, which concludes, "His love for his friend is true, and the commitment to his promise to Gandalf will not be broken." The most pressing reason to keep the cardboard, though, is the instruction on how to install the three LR44 button cell batteries.

Mount Doom Sam is a hardy toy that I expect to have standing on my piano for years to come, with the occasional adventure to more exotic locales, like our neighbor's flooded front yard, where I took him yesterday. (I snapped a picture of him on his base surrounded by water, but I placed the base on an upside-down bowl to ensure the sound mechanism wasn't damaged.) When I was at Harrison's, I think I saw at least four different Frodos, so I suspect there may be as many Sams out there, though it's probably best if I don't look into the matter more closely. If I'm going to have one Sam, this is the one I would have wanted: Samwise the Brave. His proudest moment. I paid 14 dollars for him, and I saw him online for ten. A fair price, I'd say, for my favorite literary character at his finest.

McFarlane's Jin Skates Through His Troubles

When I saw that McFarlane would be coming out with a second series of LOST figures in July of last year, I was excited. Though it was a bit of a let-down to discover that series two included only four figures and no diorama, I was still tickled to have the chance to own four terrific characters. One of these was Jin, whose character I’ve grown to like more and more since the beginning of the series, when he didn’t make such a great first impression. He went from distant and domineering to warm and gentle, making it very easy to understand how his wife Sun fell in love with him in the first place. Their relationship has been full of complications, but it’s remained one of the most positive examples on television of a marriage enduring through a variety of pitfalls.

Sun and Jin are so much a part of one another that it almost seems they might have been released as a pair with an extra-large landscape and a scene capturing a moment of tenderness between them. Instead, Sun’s figure is a snapshot of defiance against her husband, while Jin is caught in an instant of extreme distress. On the one hand, his figure is probably the most action-packed of ten that have been released thus far, but it doesn’t seem quite right to immortalize Jin as a man in bondage, restrained not only by the handcuff that remains as a reminder of his unfortunate confrontation with Michael early in the series but, more substantially, by the stick and ropes used by the paranoid survivors of the tail section.

Jin’s head is lowered, but if you look at his face, his mouth is open in a scream of petrified warning, while his cheek bears a bloody scar. There are three small holes in his brown pants, and his off-white shirt is torn and dirty. Jin’s been through a really tough time, and it’s not over yet. Like Sun, Jin has a sandy base, though his is rockier than hers. Still, the bases could almost match up, but it would be hard to make a romantic moment with him in such an unpleasant situation. One possibility: if you ignore his face and binding and gaze at him from a distance, Jin looks like he’s figure skating, so you could remove both figures from their bases and put them on a mirror, perhaps surrounded with bits of cotton for snow. Instant Olympians!

If I had to point to a favorite Jin moment early in the series, I think I would have to go with his role in the birth of Aaron, during which he manages to be very helpful despite the language barrier. His emotion as Claire delivers her son, meanwhile, prefigures his exhilaration at learning that he will be a father. It might have been nice if one of Jin’s quotes could have reflected that, but the only thing that would have been remotely quotable, I suppose, would have been “Jack. Doctor.” Out of context, that wouldn’t have made much sense, but it would’ve been about as good as “Bahlie!”, which is Korean for “Hurry!”, but I can’t for the life of me recall when he said it.

Jin actually has more sound clips than any other character thus far, and the others are more memorable, particularly “Others! Others! Others! Others!”, which is the frenzied warning to Michael and Sawyer that accompanies his mad dash away from the Tailies, though if you don’t know what he’s supposed to be saying, it sounds quite a lot like a violent sneezing attack. Also included are “I… love… you,” spoken to Sun and even more romantic than usual under the circumstances; “I can't talk to anyone. I can't understand them. I need you, Sun,” which is in Korean; and my favorite, the accentless “Everything is going to change,” from Hurley’s trippy dream in Everybody Hates Hugo. The voice box is at the bottom of the base and takes two AAA batteries, and it’s activated by pressing a large rock toward the front of the base. For some reason, when I press the rock, it doesn’t always seem to catch; sometimes it takes two or three tries before I get the sound clip. Aside from this, however, the base is quite satisfactory, and because Jin only has one shoe attached to it, he fits into his constraint much more readily than most of the other figures do.

Finally, there’s the fun prop of two pages from Sun’s translation book that show Jin how to say “aft,” “stern,” “wind,” “current,” “hurry,” “help,” “ship,” “crash,” “island,” “you are welcome,” “survivors,” “flare,” “conserve,” “danger,” “silence” and “sleep.” This provides interesting insight into Sun’s psyche, as it shows what words she thinks will be important, and it’s very cool-looking, with several lines of Korean characters. Though I really like this particular prop, I find it a little disappointing that all of the season two props are essentially two-dimensional products: two slides, a boarding pass sleeve, a letter and two pages from a translation book. What’s more, because there is no backdrop to the series two figures, there’s no good place to keep these pages. I’ve settled on sticking mine in a notebook between protective sleeves, where I know I won’t lose them.

Jin has arrived at a very interesting place on the show, and I’m anxious to see where the rest of the season will take him when we get back to new episodes in a month. Until then, I have this figure to tide me over. Long live Jin!

McFarlane's Slightly Softened Sawyer Is Ready to Sail

From the beginning, one of the LOST characters who has intrigued me most is surly, sarcastic sweetheart Sawyer. He starts off his run on the island by antagonizing everyone in sight, but gradually, though he never quite loses his edge, he evolves into a useful part of the survivor pack and forms genuine relationships with the other survivors: fiery Kate, who he’s had his eye on since day one; heroic Jack, with whom he’s butted heads but whose friendship he reluctantly values; vulnerable Charlie, who ends up his co-conspirator in season two; gentle Hurley, who rises above his insults to become both pal and mentor.

The sad thing about Sawyer is that he is on a path to redemption that is consistently hampered by his lust for revenge, which is embodied in the note that serves as his prop. Sawyer winds up on the island because of a misguided attempt at revenge, and since arriving his “overdeveloped sense of vengeance,” as the Six-Fingered Man in The Princess Bride put it, has led him to kill two more people, which has only gnawed away at his soul more. Yet in the most recent episode, he implies that he has a new target for his vengeful impulses. Will he ever learn?

The note is something of a curiosity to me. I’m not at all surprised that it was chosen for his prop, since it’s by far the most iconic object the show has introduced in connection with him. However, I find it quite strange that the wording of the note was altered. Instead of “You had sex with my mother,” the note reads, “You slept with my mother.” Presumably this was changed because these figures are sold at Toys R Us and are in some way considered potential toys for children. Clearly, however, the main market is adults. These are more collectibles than action figures, and while there undoubtedly are some children who watch LOST, I’m guessing a very small percentage of these figures are sold to kids. Moreover, if the kids like the show and Sawyer enough to get the replica, then they almost certainly have heard the note in its entirety before. Finally, doesn’t it seem a little silly to try to soften the phrasing of an adulterous act when the next part of the letter references murder without flinching? Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.

The figure of Sawyer is pretty nice. He stands in a pair of fading jeans, one hand on his hip and the other leaning against the side of the raft whose construction he’s been supervising. His blue shirt is torn. His muscles ripple. His wavy hair flaps in the wind, as much as plastic can seem to, and his face wears an appropriately cocky expression. It’s a reasonable likeness, though still not as precise as Charlie, which remains my favorite figure. The troublesome thing is that his feet don’t want to fit into their assigned pegs, and one of my pegs actually broke off as I tried to position him. His hand is almost as resistant to resting properly on the raft rigging.

But I just love his base, which is definitely my favorite of the series two offerings. The raft is a very important element in the end of the first season and beginning of the second, and here it is recreated in all its glory, from all the sticks that make up the floor to the metallic underpinnings. It’s a gorgeous vessel, considering that it was handmade, and it rests atop a sandy stretch of beach. Underneath the raft is a little knob that triggers the sound clips, the battery compartment for which is located at the bottom of the base and takes two AAA batteries. Sawyer is almost certainly the most quotable character on the show, since hardly a sentence escapes his mouth that doesn’t have some witty edge to it, so selecting the clips for him must have been especially difficult. I don’t know that I have a favorite Sawyer quote, at least from the first two seasons; I am partial to his lame “I don’t like blankets” comment to Claire in Left Behind, but that’s both too recent and inconsequential to be included here. I also love his speech to Jack about Christian in season one's Exodus: Part 1, but I’m not sure if that could be effectively whittled down to just a sentence or two. So I’m fine with the included clips:

* “I'm a complex guy, sweetheart.”

* “There are nicer ways to wake a man up, Freckles.”

* “Fun time is over, Bongo. Why don't you go hit the buffet.”

* “There's a new sheriff in town boys, y'all best get used to it.”

Of these, I’d say the last is the most iconic, though the first may be my favorite, since he sounds ever so much like Han Solo in that clip, and I’m always up for any excuse to compare the two characters.

And besides, Sawyer is a complex guy, no doubt about it. He’s one of the hardest characters to figure out, and I just hope that by the end of the show, his too-often submerged decency will overpower his misdeeds. Other fans who are just as fascinated by him as I am will want to snag Sawyer for themselves while he’s still on store shelves.

Here Comes the Sun in McFarlane's Second LOST Series

One of the most pressing questions that season three of LOST left fans with was the issue of whether or not Sun Kwon would survive her pregnancy and successfully give birth. I didn’t expect an answer so soon, but through the use of flash-forwards, LOST has provided key insight into her fate. That’s not to say that mysteries don’t still swirl around her character, and one can only hope that the writers will decide to showcase her more often than they have.

When I first started watching LOST, it took me a while to connect with Sun and Jin. They were so cut off from the others, separated by a language barrier and Jin’s stubbornness. The Sun figure from the second series of McFarlane figures inspired by the show captures the young Korean wife in a moment of defiance, exhibiting an independent streak that would eventually allow both her and her husband to be fully integrated into the group of crash survivors.

It’s a little strange to see Sun in a skimpy, two-piece sky blue bathing suit with striped accents, since throughout most of the show, her clothes are quite modest. Here, she dares to leave herself exposed, disregarding her husband’s stern reproofs. A midnight blue blanket whips in the wind behind her shoulders. In terms of the figure, this blanket is problematic; it stubbornly resists being placed into her hands in such a way that it will stay put, almost as if to emphasize her desire to be free from unwanted coverings. Maybe it was intentional on the part of the sculptors. More likely it was just imprecise design; it’s frustrating to have an object that clearly belongs at a certain spot within this little diorama and be unable to place it there.

Sun’s feet, like most of her body, are bare, and they stand on a sandy expanse that probably is uncomfortably hot. The expression of her face is mostly one of serenity, with a flash of anger. Unlike the series one figures, there is no specific backdrop for Sun; instead, there’s a generic green, vaguely leafy-looking piece of cardboard included with all the series two figures. Also included is the life-size sleeve of her Oceanic boarding pass.

As with the other series two figures, the black box containing sound clips from the show is integrated within the stand rather than attached to a backdrop. Though the second is the only one of the English clips directed at Jin, all of Sun’s quotes involve him in some way:

* "Have you never lied to a man you've loved?"

* "I was going to leave you... I was going to get away"

* "My wedding ring ... it's gone!"

The final quote is in Korean, which is a nice touch, and translates as “I'm not saying you should go alone. I'm coming with you,” which is, of course, spoken to Jin. The black box takes two AAA batteries, and the clips are accessed by pressing down on one of the rocks on the beach.

The focus of this figure in Sun’s relationship with Jin, which makes sense, but it would have been nice to see something that featured her working in her garden, which both provided her some relief from her initially aggravating husband and gave her a purpose, allowing her to help her fellow castaways even though most of them did not yet know she spoke English. Probably my favorite season one Sun moment occurs when she finds some eucalyptus and uses it to help the asthmatic Shannon breathe. Later, she stands by Jack in her tireless effort to aid the injured Boone. I think the figure’s creators might have done well to incorporate her role as a nurturer.

Still, Sun is a very nice figure for fans of one of television’s most complex couples, and the fact that she has been cast in plastic is an acknowledgment of the value she brings to the show. Here’s hoping the writers agree!

McFarlane's Eko Captures the Enigmatic Priest's Spirit

I recently received the distressing news that McFarlane Toys is on the verge of canceling its production of LOST-related action figures. I found this especially disappointing when I learned that the third series of characters would include Desmond, who holds an exalted position in my quartet of favorite characters, and Ben, who is firmly in the second tier, along with Rose and Tom, who are sure to never get action figures, and Sawyer, who has been cast in plastic already. It was actually Sawyer I'd planned to purchase when I decided to do my part to keep the line alive earlier this week. After all, I've been wanting the series two figures for months but haven't bought any because I figured I'd wait until the price went down. Apparently, that's what everyone else thought too. But I went to two different stores and found no trace of either Sawyer or Jin, so I went with my second choice, the fantabulous Mr. Eko.

Eko is almost certainly the most intriguing new character of season two, with the possible exception of Desmond. But Des only shows up in a handful of episodes that season, while Eko is a major force in the progression of the story. A Nigerian priest with a violent past, he seeks atonement and purpose on the island. His personality is just as forceful as John's, and he is more intimidating, keeping quietly to himself most of the time and never taking orders from anyone. He is a spiritual leader, but it also becomes clear that despite the authority with which he carries himself, he still has a lot to learn.

This figure is taken from The 23rd Psalm, a brilliant episode that explores Eko's dark history and his bizarre connection to the island. While LOST frequently dabbles in religious themes and imagery, rarely does it do so as overtly as in this Emmy-nominated installment, whose key elements include a cross necklace, statues of the Virgin Mary and a recitation of the titular psalm.

The aforementioned cross is around the plastic Eko's neck, and he also brandishes his "Jesus stick," which can be removed from his right hand. The only trouble? There are no scriptural inscriptions on the stick, a rather glaring omission if you ask me. He carries himself in a hulking stance, a yellowing shirt draped in tatters over his muscular chest as he glares ahead of him in steely determination, still sporting the odd little beard he later cuts and gives to "Henry Gale" as an act of contrition. His dirty black pants are torn, his shoes worn, a mark of the trials he has faced on this island.

Eko stands on the rocky jungle floor, unless you take him off the pegs holding him there. Both of his arms move at the elbow, so there are a few posing possibilities. Behind him are several bunches of weeds that press into depressions in the stand, and they give it an especially cool 3-D look. Conversely, the green backdrop with its patch of jungle is more generic than those in series one. I would have preferred a glimpse of his brother Yemi's plane, but in any case without those annoying plastic poles, the backdrop doesn't fit snugly around the figure, so it feels much more superfluous.

Among the rocks is one just in front of Eko's right foot that serves as the button that delivers his three quotes from the series. This is one of the nicest aspects of the figure. All of the season one figures featured a black box that was attached to the cardboard backdrop with a series of plastic rods. Having the button incorporated directly into the stand makes for a much more streamlined display. The batteries - 2 AAAs - are inserted in the bottom of the stand, which is a bit more awkward than with the box, but it's well worth it.

All of Eko's quotes are very apt and delivered in a low, vaguely menacing tone:

* "Hello. I am Mr. Eko."

* "And tell your friends I let you live. That Mr. Eko let you live."

* "I understand that you live in a world where righteousness and evil seem very far apart, but that is not the real world."

The latter two are especially demonstrative of Eko's struggle to balance survival with compassion, self-preservation with morality. It's a dangerous dance that is fascinating to watch. Lest the avid Eko fan be disappointed that this figure is rooted almost entirely in his back story, the special prop is two stills from the portion of the film strip that was removed from the orientation film in Desmond's hatch. One is a shot of Dr. Marvin Candle and the other of the symbol for the Swan hatch. While I would rather have had a replica of Yemi's cross, the slides are interesting and serve as a nod to the epic battle of wills between Eko and John that will follow.

Take home one of the greatest characters LOST has seen, and perhaps increase the likelihood that four more of the cream of the crop will soon be released. Until the enigmatic drug lord-turned-priest makes an appearance again, I'll be proud to have him on my piano.

McFarlane Branches Out From the LOST Guys With Entish Kate Austen

Before I received the talking Charlie Pace figurine from McFarlane Toys last Christmas, I had no idea that there was a line of LOST toys. While Charlie is almost certainly the best of the bunch in terms of craftsmanship, I was eager to complete my trio of favorite characters by securing John Locke and Hurley Reyes, and when I spotted the deluxe diorama for half price, I snagged that too. I told myself I would stop there. But this fall, I happened upon Kate Austen for half price while attempting to sneak a peek at the second line of LOST figures, which includes Sun and Jin Kwon, Sawyer Ford and Mr. Eko. Alas, there was no sign of them, but when I spotted Kate sitting next to Charlie with a big clearance tag on her, I was moved. Kate would be joining my menagerie.

Kate is an interesting character, spunky and compassionate but full of dark secrets. Her back story reminds me of Catch Me If You Can, with the U. S. Marshall Edward Mars dogging her steps as she hops from town to town, leaving a trail of crime behind her. In her own way, Kate is as much a con artist as Sawyer, but her intentions tend to be purer than his. For the most part, I really like her in the first season, though in the second and third season I've begun to find her frustrating as she zips back and forth between Sawyer and Jack and acts in headstrong ways that endanger her fellow castaways.

McFarlane captures Kate in an early moment of derring-do. One of her laudable traits is that she's not afraid to get filthy, making her much more useful in the early post-crash days than Shannon, the pedicured princess. Surrounding her on the stand are big bunches of bamboo. This three-dimensional background is probably my favorite aspect of the figure.

What I don't like is the way Kate's sleeves, wet, wrinkled and dirty, look like tree branches, and that extends to her hands as well. I kid you not. It was the first thing I noticed when I laid eyes on her, and when I showed the figure to my friend Dan, he declared, "She looks like Grandmother Willow!" That's not too far off the mark. I'm all for Ents, but Kate is fully human and shouldn't look like she's about to sprout leaves. Frankly, I find it disturbing - though maybe it's a veiled reference to Evangeline Lilly's romance with Dom Monaghan, former Ent-rider?

Her hair hangs lankly behind her head in a ponytail, with strands brushing across her forehead. She wears a muddy pair of jeans and a dingy blue tank top, over top of which is the khaki shirt with the bizarre sleeves. Her hardy shoes are the practical ones Jack insisted she wear.

I'm not overly impressed with Kate's sound clips, which include...

* "If you're thinking about going for the cockpit, I'm going with you."

* "Well, I only made out with him because torturing him didn't work."

* "JACK!!!!!!" *thunderclap* "One... two... three... four... five!"

That last one is particularly annoying because you have to press the button between the thunderclap and the counting, which is practically impossible to understand over top of the downpour in the background. All three quotes, from the Pilot and Confidence Man, are directed toward Jack, though the second involves Sawyer. Kate was certainly very involved with Jack throughout the first season, and the inclusion of the Sawyer quote is a reminder of the continuing tensions there. But it seems slightly excessive that all three of her quotes basically are about her chasing after Jack. I'd like to think there's a bit more to Kate than that...

At least the prop has nothing to do with Jack, though it is a souvenir of a sincere romantic attachment. I don't remember if the plastic plane that she kept as a reminder of the childhood sweetheart for whose death she feels responsible is supposed to be missing a propeller. Mine is, but otherwise it's very nifty and rather more durable than the paper props included with all of the series one figures except for Charlie (whose ring, I found out the hard way, is not quite as hardy as it looks).

If you're a big Kate fan, you'll want to pick up this figure. If you can find it in the store, it'll most likely be half-price; otherwise, check it out online, and while you're at it, see if you are interested in any of the other folks. The series two figures could especially use a little love, lest McFarlane decide not to go ahead with series three, which is slated to include Claire, Sayid, Ben and - joy of joys - Desmond. Though Kate is not the most realistic-looking of the bunch, she's still a great stand-alone or addition to an existing collection.

McFarlane's Shannon Lies Down on the Job

In a show filled with compelling characters, Shannon Rutherford never quite measured up to the rest of the principal cast of LOST's first season. She didn't start to get really interesting until the last few episodes. Before that point, she spent most of her time engaged in some variation of the activity depicted in her McFarlane figure: lying on her back in an orange bikini, cushioned from the hot sand by a vibrant multi-colored towel, with a pair of sunglasses to keep the sun out of her eyes and help her maintain her distance.

When you remove the other series one figures from the pegs attaching them to their habitats, they can almost stand upright, but Shannon is stuck in that silly lounging position, bare feet hovering just above the sand, dirty blond hair clumped against her head, a bottle of water and another of lotion close at hand. In the cardboard backdrop, the calamitous scene contrasts with her air of aristocratic apathy. As wreckage burns, red-shirt castaways struggle to get their bearings, and her step-brother Boone marches fuzzily toward her, probably preparing to reprimand her for her inertia. It's not a colorful scene, but a zoned-out Shannon doesn't make for the most interesting figure.

But I couldn't resist. When I saw her lying on a shelf in a battered box with a half-price sticker, I snatched her up. Maybe it was pity for the character, who started out annoying but became more sympathetic as time wore on and never had the opportunities for development that were afforded most of the other major castaways. If they wanted to round out the series with a blond beauty, I would rather have Claire, but it's of some consolation that she will be manufactured with the third series, if there is one. Here's hoping!

With the backdrop and stand, Shannon is a bit longer horizontally than most of the other figures but considerably shorter vertically, since she is lying down. Press the button on the black box, which requires a pair of AAA batteries, and you get to hear three ever-so-charming quotes from the show.

* "What's a four-letter word for 'I don't care'?"

* "The plane had a black box, idiot. I'll eat on the rescue boat."

* "You want my information. Name: Shannon Rutherford. Age: 20. Address: Cr**hole Island."

Ah, yes, Shannon. Such impeccable people skills. At least the creators give her a little credit with her prop, which is Rousseau's map of the island. It unfolds to be quite large and would look nice on a wall if you don't mind a few creases. The map comes complete with Rousseau's random scrawling, the interpretation of which marked a major change in Shannon's attitude on the island. Once she realized that there was a way to make herself useful, she became a lot less insufferable.

Of the six figures in McFarlane's first series, Shannon is easily the least interesting, but it's still not a bad sculpt, and the map is a pretty cool artifact to have. If you're a big Shannon fan or just want to complete your collection, she shouldn't be too hard to come by for ten bucks. I just hope that Claire gets her time in the spotlight too!

LOST Fans Can Nab Jack, Shepherd of Castaways

Back when my friend Libbie and I finally got around to watching the pilot of LOST, more than 16 months after it originally aired, we both had a pretty good idea of who was going to inspire our most ardent affections. My money was on Charlie, the burned-out rocker portrayed by none other than the adorable, hilarious former hobbit Dom Monaghan, while hers was on Jack, the rugged hero bringing a sense of order amidst the post-crash chaos, a towering figure of strength and resolve played by Party of Five's Matthew Fox.

Three seasons in, we've both conceded that tortured, time-traveling Scotsman Desmond, a latecomer to the game, gives our respective flames a run for their money, but since we're not going to be seeing Mr. Hume in plastic form anytime soon (and when we do, I really hope his prop is the failsafe key, which I can string around my neck should I feel so inspired, rather than that picture of him and Penny) there was no question as to which character in McFarlane's line of LOST figures would be most suited to her. When her birthday rolled around recently, it was Jack in the box, ready to spring into action.

Jack, it seems, is not quite as popular now as he was in the first season. While I never really latched onto him as a favorite, preferring the more down-to-earth Charlie and Hurley and the enigmatic Locke, I've always liked him, and I don't envy him his position of having leadership thrust upon him because, as a doctor, he was among the first to check into the well-being of the survivors. He knew what to do when it counted, so everyone continued to look to him for direction.

And he's delivered pretty well in that regard. As the only doctor in the bunch, he's indispensable, making everyone's stay on the island more pleasant and saving lives - most dramatically Charlie's, in a testament to the value of his stubborn unwillingness to give up on a patient. He rallies the castaways with inspirational speeches and pushes past the personal issues plaguing him for the good of the group. Jack is a good guy.

This figure captures him at a moment early in the series, roughly the same time as the scene in which the Charlie figure is rooted. Jack stands, ever so wobbly on his feet, weaving his way dazedly through the sea of wreckage strewn about him. Chunks of debris jut out at odd angles, while Jack himself looks a little uneven, knee bent, arms splayed at his sides, jacket flapping, shirt half-tucked, tie askew, startled expression on his face. This is Jack just moments after the crash, only beginning to comprehend what's happening, barely aware of the lacerations in his skin leaving bloodstained tears in his clothes. Maybe the blood is a bit much, but it certainly adds to the realism of the scene.

Of all the figures I've examined out of the box, Jack probably looks the least like the character, but that's not to say it isn't a good likeness. It's just not as remarkable as Locke or Charlie. It's still clearly Jack, though, looking mighty heroic atop the pile of fuselage remnants. Like the other figures in the series, he doesn't move a whole lot, but his hands, head and waist are articulated. Putting together the plastic base, complete with its thin black rods, cardboard backdrop and black box, is a bit tricky, but a little fiddling around does the trick. There's also the added complication of having a piece of wreckage that fits onto pegs on the base, just as Jack's shoes do; this makes things a bit more confusing at first, but it's not the sort of challenge that should pose undue difficulty. The backdrop still requires the more complex assembly.

Accompanying Jack is a mug shot of Kate, which seems like a rather odd prop for him to have, but upon reflection I can't think of any definitive props Jack has had at any point in the series, unless it were a first aid kit or something of that nature, so I guess the Kate picture makes sense, given his close connection with her. And it's very realistic-looking.

And then, of course, there are the sound clips. Most iconic is his pleading catchphrase: "If we can't live together, we're gonna die alone." Less effective, especially considering that they both came from the same episode - heck, the same conversation - are "Everybody wants me to be a leader until I make a decision that they don't like" and "There's something that you need to know... We're going to have a Locke problem, and I have to know that you've got my back." These last two are fine, but given the fact that Jack is the closest thing the series has to a singular main character, it seems a little strange to have two quotes from the season one finale. I would nix the third and put in something from around mid-season, something showing the softer or lighter side of Jack... As it is, while the first quote is inspirational, the second is a bit petulant and the third comes off as slightly paranoid - though it's not quite unfounded, given Locke's various issues throughout the second season, to say nothing of the third...

When I bought this figure, it still cost $16, but considering that the second series is due out in July, I wouldn't be surprised if the price goes down before too long, especially since I snagged the hatch set half-off. If Jack's your main squeeze, snatching up this figure before it vanishes from the shelves might be just what the doctor ordered.

McFarlane Toys Lights Up LOST Fans' Lives With the Hatch Boxed Set

LOST is a dangerously compelling television show. I tend to lament the fact that, after looking forward to the show for half the summer in 2004, I didn't actually start watching current episodes until this year. I missed out on a lot of anticipation and speculation, and despite my best attempts to remain ignorant, I found out about most of the major deaths before I managed to watch them. This week and next, I can wait anxiously with the rest of the country to find out whether all of my favorite characters are going to make it to the end of the season. In the meantime, I just acquired a set from the McFarlane line of action figures capturing the first season's enigmatic cliff-hanging moment.

I first learned about McFarlane's LOST line when I received the fantastically detailed Charlie for Christmas. Also in the series are Locke, Hurley, Jack, Kate and Shannon. Each of these six-inch figures comes on a plastic base and includes a prop or two and a photographic backdrop helping cement the character in a particular moment. For Charlie, it's shortly after the crash, when he's sitting on a piece of wreckage and writing on his fingers. For Hurley, it's the triumphant announcement that he has built a golf course. For Locke, it's peering intently down at the hatch, whose contents at that point remain a mystery. With this deluxe set, our island friends still don't know what's inside, but they're a lot closer to finding out, having just blown the door open with dynamite.

While none of the stand-alone figures is so much a plaything as a display piece, they all have some degree of articulation and are not rooted to their bases. The hatch set includes Locke, Hurley, Jack and Kate, but they are stationary and much smaller. Jack and torch-wielding Locke are crouching near the hole in the hatch's center, gazing into its mysterious depths, while Kate, torch in hand, takes a step onto the hatch and Hurley hangs back. Since Kate and Hurley are standing, they are removable, but Locke and Jack are embedded into the surface of the hatch. The scene is almost as wide as three of the figure bases put together, and in fact this base has separate pieces to it, though you can't really tell once it's all assembled. The curved jungle backdrop stands taller than Charlie's but not quite as tall as Hurley's, and nothing within the diorama peeks out above the top of the cardboard.

As usual, I have someone else to thank for getting the scene all set up for me. I think my brother's biggest challenge was getting everything out of the box, where it was so tightly packaged in plastic and secured with plastic wires. To his consternation, the backdrop was rolled up with the photographic side facing out, so he had a little trouble bending it the other way so that it would fit into the plastic constraints that allow it to slide neatly behind the base, which is made of sturdy plastic and features some very realistic-looking foliage and dirt surrounding the cylindrical top of the hatch. Leading inside is a ladder, but after only six battered-looking rungs, there's a floor. We're supposed to imagine that the hole goes on from there, of course, and that isn't too much of a stretch, especially if you have the lights turned off and are trying to peek inside with the blue-ish white light blazing in your eyes.

Yes, this set has a light-up feature, which is pretty nifty. It definitely adds to the enigmatic nature of the scene, and it's easily accessible with the flick of a switch inside the hole. Unfortunately, this light is really the only interactive aspect of this set. It has no moving parts, no props and, perhaps most regrettably (though it no doubt made my brother's job easier), no sound clips. I really love being able to press a button and hear quotes from three of my favorite characters, so I miss that here. I know the Jack and Hurley figures have lines from this scene, but surely they could have incorporated other lines from this scene - or had those figures say other lines, because they had an awful lot to choose from, after all. Or if they didn't want to have the figures up top saying anything, we could've gotten a nod to the season two opener by having a button blasting Make Your Own Kind of Music or featuring some sort of panicked mumbling from one Desmond Hume. Then again, the voice boxes require AAA batteries and the light switch AAs, so I suppose maybe they didn't want to make people get two different types of batteries. But that little added expense would be worth it in order to make the scene as vibrant as possible.

When I went to McFarlane Toys to find a picture I could link to for the suggest-a-product form (thanks to MaryTara for adding this!), I discovered that series two is quickly approaching. The first series arrived in December; the second graces us in July, and unless the list is incomplete, there is no set comparable to this one (a shame, since a logical possibility would be the inside of the hatch shortly before its implosion and would probably include Locke, Desmond, Charlie and Eko, a fantastic foursome indeed). Additionally, while the first series featured six "fan favorite" characters, the second only has four: Sawyer, Sun, Jin and Eko. All are terrific characters whose figures I wouldn't mind owning, but with so many brilliant folks on the show, I can't see why they made fewer this time around. I'd say there are at least a couple dozen characters deserving of the action figure treatment. Then again, it's probably best for obsessive but not particularly wealthy fans like me not to have too many come out at once...

I picked up the hatch set half off at Toys R Us; usually it goes for $30, while the figures cost about $17. It's definitely worth the $15 I paid for it, and devoted fans probably won't mind shelling out the full $30, especially if they can think of a more appropriate place to display it than the kitchen table, which is where mine is currently situated. As for me, I'm happy to contemplate the mysteries of the island while munching my breakfast cereal, grateful that, unlike "Henry Gale", I have milk to go with it and that, realistic-looking as this diorama is, I am unable to detect anything that might be a piece of the ill-fated Arzt. No matter where you choose to place this set, you can enjoy this fine example of McFarlane's craftsmanship, reliving one of the series' most iconic moments during the long wait between next Wednesday and the premiere of LOST's fourth season in January.

Dude, Who Needs a Teddy Bear When You've Got Hurley?

The other day, I finally caved and bought myself the McFarlane Toys talking figure of Hurley, completing my threesome of favorite characters from LOST's first season. Of course, the introduction of Desmond - particularly as a regular in season three - turned my trio into a quartet, but I doubt they'll be casting him in plastic any time soon, what with so many other characters in line ahead of him. I'm crossing my fingers that they'll get around to it eventually. Or just do the sound chip thing, only stick it in something smaller than that black box that comes with the figures, something that I could string on a necklace so I could listen to those rugged Scottish tones whenever I want. Too bad two of the three sound clips are bound to be dreadfully depressing, along the lines of "You've killed us all!" and "You're gonna die, Charlie!" At least I can count on "See you in another life, brother..."

But to Hurley, who won my heart quickly and has never given me cause to shake my fist at him in frustration, as my beloved Charlie, Locke and Desmond have. Hurley is as steady and dependable as they come. He may be cursed, doomed to stand in the eye of the hurricane while atrocities happen to most of the people he cares about, but that doesn't stop him from being a comforting presence. I occasionally compare him to Sam Gamgee, my all-time favorite literary hero, but mostly to Hagrid, the enormous, bumbling, expansively compassionate Hogwarts gamekeeper.

Like Hagrid, he possesses a rustic decency that makes him generally well-liked. He encourages everyone to treat each other with respect, and while he's eager to do as much as he can to be helpful, he usually stands in awe of Jack, who may not be much like Dumbledore but who is the closest thing this group of castaways has to a leader. He's emotional, more deeply affected by events on the island than most, in part because he goes to lengths to get to know everyone. He's usually the one who eulogizes at the all-too-frequent makeshift funerals, and while his words may not be very eloquent, they spring from a profound sense of sympathy. I can just imagine Hagrid blowing a great big handkerchief whenever Hurley lays a castaway to rest. He even uses the word "duffer", which is one of those words I associate almost exclusively with Hagrid.

So yeah, I love Hurley. I love his pacifism, his mellow "dude"-riddled proclamations, his consideration, his common sense, his fantastic sense of humor. He's a great big teddy bear with a habit of squeezing the stuffing out of people. If I were on that island, he could give me as many bear hugs as he wanted. Hurley is one groovy guy.

And so is mini-Hurley, though preserved in plastic, he's not nearly so huggable. The six-inch replica captures one of his shining season one moments, when the discovery of some golf clubs inspires him to build a course and give the castaways a way to relieve all their mounting tension. "I've stayed up all night trying to figure out how to make people feel safe," Jack complains. "Hurley builds a golf course, suddenly everyone feels safe." In the grand scheme of things, it's a small contribution, but for this one day, everyone can forget about all those pesky problems plaguing them.

The figure includes a cardboard backdrop showing the verdant hills where Hurley has placed his golf course. He's mounted on a grassy expanse consisting of green and brown tones, with little patches of grass and earth turned up all around him. On his feet are black sneakers, which are reluctant to fit into the allotted holes. His pants are black and have several pockets, though none of them are actually capable of accommodating any small objects. His green shirt flaps in the same breeze that causes his makeshift flag - a red coconut-print Hawaiian shirt in a former life - to fly proudly atop its bamboo pole, which Hurley clasps with one hand. Though the flagpole rests in a small hole, it doesn't seem that it would have much chance of standing if Hurley weren't there to help prop it up.

Hurley's other hand is on his hip, giving him an air of pride, while his face wears an expression of satisfaction. His head, marked by sideburns, the faint beginnings of a beard and shoulder-length hair pulled back with a black hair tie, is one of the only parts of him with any articulation, and even that's not much, since he is only able to shake his head slightly. His waist and right elbow are also articulated, though I didn't notice that at first. The craftsmanship isn't as detailed or the likeness as remarkable as with Charlie and Locke, but it's still a very nice figure. What's not so nice is the assembly required in order to incorporate the backdrop and the voice box into the figure stand. You'd think after two of these figures, we could figure out how to put them together, but it's rather complicated, especially without any sort of instructions. I'm afraid there was a bit of angry muttering flowing through our kitchen before the assembly was complete, and that's most inappropriate considering Hurley's pacifying nature. Shame on those LOST folks for refusing to make anything simple...

As with the other figures, Hurley speaks three lines from the series, or rather the black box attached to him does when the button on it is pressed. For some reason, the volume seems turned up just a tad higher on Hurley than on Charlie and Locke, but that might not be an across-the-board thing. He's just a little louder than he needs to be, at least on the first two: "Welcome to the first... and, hopefully, last... Island Open!" (very appropriate, given the moment they decided to capture with this figure) and the requisite "dude"- and food-involved "Dude, I'm starving... I'm nowhere near that hungry." The extra volume makes more sense on his final proclamation, the panicked season-finale "Stop! Wait! The number are bad!!" And speaking of numbers, my figure came with two full-size replicas of his cursed lottery ticket, bearing the ominous numbers "4 8 15 16 23 42". I think I was only supposed to get one, but I'm not complaining.

For $17, I nabbed myself the compassionate, hilarious, unlucky island teddy bear, and I find myself wishing more than ever that I could get my hands on a magical box like the one in The Indian in the Cupboard capable of bringing plastic figurines to life. Hurley and I could have some very nice chats together... Here's hoping Hurley remains a voice of reason in the often chaotic workings of the island. Three cheers for Hugo Reyes!

You're a Good Man, Charlie Pace

This was a very LOST Christmas for me. Not only did season one mysteriously materialize on the shelf atop our television as we gazed at the screen later in the day, but there were several gifts with my name on it directly relating to the hit TV show. There was the pair of "Mystery of the Island" puzzles, which I'm eager to delve into once the tree comes down. There was the homemade shirt, tan to match the island sand with an arresting head shot of Charlie Pace against a crisp blue sky, augmented by wooden gulls and shells and bearing the words "I'm LOST Without Charlie." I wore it to two subsequent family gatherings, where I was treated to puzzled choruses of "Who's Charlie?" and the occasional "I thought he was still on the show..." Well, yes... But I'm not, am I? Anyway, in addition to all that, there was the beautiful action figure, in a line that I didn't even know existed. The character? Why, Charlie, of course - though I'm tempted to go out and nab Hurley and Locke too, but I really need to curtail my spending since I only have another month of guaranteed steady employment...

When I first began seeing advertisements for LOST, the whole stranded-on-a-tropical-island premise - a scenario I've rather enjoyed daydreaming about, actually, particularly if it was a Swiss Family Robinson situation - caught my attention immediately. But I was equally drawn to it because of one very familiar face: Dom Monaghan. Ever since Fellowship of the Ring, the inclusion of any of LotR's dozen-plus principle cast members has been enough to make me interested in a movie - except, of course, for Seed of Chucky... oh, Billy, how could you? Ahem. Anyway, the prospect of getting to see that jovial hobbit week after week, and in lush, epic surroundings to boot, was too good to resist.

And then, after weeks of anticipation, I missed the first episode. And the second. And my recording devices failed me. So I gave up on watching season one in prime time and resigned myself to the DVD, but I watch ABC enough that I kept seeing previews, and in particular it seemed as though I saw previews for The Moth about a hundred times. In that episode, Locke tries to help Charlie break his heroin habit. In the previews, we were treated, over and over, to Charlie demanding, "I want m'drugs back!" I began to worry that I might not like Charlie. He was a hopeless druggie, and probably just an all-around un-Erinish character. But I held out hope, and when I finally did see the series premiere, I stopped worrying.

No, he's not quite Meriadoc Brandybuck, but actually there are several similarities in their personalities. There's the drug thing, of course, though pipeweed is considerably more benign than heroin, and even so Merry chides Pippin on smoking too much. Charlie isn't what you would call a crucial character. His only real purpose so far has been to look after Claire, and for half the series so far he hasn't even been able to do that. Like Merry, he's caught up in this massive struggle and not entirely sure how to contribute. And while he's not a good two or three feet shorter than most folks, he is a wisp of a man, not very burly, probably weakened by several years of hard living on the road with Drive Shaft. And he's not very clever either, not practical and resourceful like Hurley, whose positive impact on the castaways' experience has been subtle but steady from day one. As someone who has struggled quite a bit with feelings of ineffectiveness, I feel Charlie's pain. He's got himself a nasty temper and an unflattering inferiority complex, but I love him.

Why? Well, there is the whole hobbit thing. And that accent that makes me almost as tingly as Billy Boyd's - with a matching vocabulary that has awakened in me the inappropriate desire to incorporate the word "sodding" into as many of my conversations as possible. There's his musicianship. Even if You All Everybody is one of the most inane songs I've ever heard, you've got to admit it's catchy. And that one he was working out on his piano really was a keeper. I wish Charlie would have more opportunity on the island to make use of his guitar. Every once in a while we see him noodling around with it on the beach, but I'd like a more concrete assurance that he's doing some composing. I would think this situation would be ripe with inspiration, and since he generally doesn't take a very active role in the island affairs, that entails plenty of time for observation. Maybe when (if?) they get rescued, Charlie can release an album of songs written from that beach. I'd snatch that up in a minute.

Beyond that, Charlie is one of the most religious characters on the show. His Catholic upbringing is clearly very important to him. I think his faith fell by the wayside somewhat after he spiraled into his drug addiction, but once he emerged from the haze of that last batch of heroin, theological thoughts always seem to be rolling around in his head. He doesn't have all the answers, but he's searching, and that draws me to him. Moreover, he is thoroughly devoted to his brother, entailing extensive self-sacrifice. Family is of the utmost importance to him, which is something I can appreciate and relate to. It's interesting that he chooses for his mentors first Locke and then Eko, both of whom have endured great hardship as a result of their efforts to protect a close relative.

So yes, I like Charlie. A lot. And it's a pleasure to have such a stunning likeness of him perched on my piano; once the Christmas decorations are down, I hope to make him the centerpiece of my little musicians' corner atop the piano that includes a singing John Denver ornament, a Schroeder figurine and a headshot of Art Garfunkel. Charlie is one in a series of six in McFarlane's first line of LOST figures. Each six-inch representation comes in a sturdy package with a photographic backdrop and a detailed base capturing a particular location and moment in the featured character's island experience.

Charlie's moment comes very early in the series, before we've had the chance to learn much of anything about him. He's sitting hunched on a large piece of debris from the airplane; wires and bits of iron spill out both sides, and pieces of wreckage are scattered in the sand around his feet, which are clad in checkered slip-on shoes much like the Land's End clogs I practically live in. His jeans are faded toward the center and bristling with the look of real denim, with its panoply of wrinkles and creases, while his stormy gray hoodie matches the sky, caught in the splendor of the tail end of a spectacular sunset.

Charlie's right hand boasts his trademark Drive Shaft ring, which is also included separately so a squealing fan like me - a silly sort who just put You All Everybody on her MySpace profile page - can wear it. Except that Charlie, for as puny as he seems to be, apparently has enormous hands; his ring is built for a finger easily twice as big as mine, so if I do decide to wear it, I'll have to string it on a chain and stick it around my neck. Perched between his thumb and index finger is a black marker, with which he is meticulously tracing one of the letters in the word "FATE," spelled out across four fingers on pieces of tape. Both arms are moveable, which is especially nifty for making the right hand write.

His hood flaps slightly in the wind, leaving a gap between the material and his face, and he certainly looks like he's brooding, but at this early point in the series his thoughts are likely more vacuous than bitter. You have to tilt the base upward a bit in order to get a good look at his face, but gazing at him head-on he seems clouded by confusion rather than feelings of worthlessness. He's still wandering about in a haze of post-traumatic shock and heroin withdrawal. He doesn't have a clue what's going on, and he's darn lucky he didn't get sucked into one of the plane's propellers while he was stumbling about aimlessly. So are we.

The packaging is pretty but rather hard to get into; I wanted to keep the box in pristine condition but it wound up getting torn as I tried to open it, and extracting Charlie was even more complicated. Then once he was out I had to affix Charlie to the base - not a problem, with those handy-dandy pegs - and the base and backdrop to the voice box with the aid of four black plastic poles whose purpose was not immediately apparent. I also had to toss in a couple of double-A batteries. So there was a bit of assembly required, but nothing major, and with that box we can hear Charlie spit out three illuminating lines: the explosive "You don't know me! I'm a bloody rock god!"; the ominous "Guys... where are we?" and of course, a squealy rendition of that ever-so-stirring chorus, "You all everybody... you all everybody!"

The craftsmanship on this figure is astonishing, and I fear for my self-control. Say it: I will not buy every figure in this series. I will not buy every figure in this series. Repeat. We'll see how that goes... But whether or not I get my hands on any other castaways, I've got Charlie. And that is a beautiful thing indeed.