by Mof Gimmers

I have a confession to make. I haven’t watched Lost. I’ve tried to swerve the ridiculous hype that surrounds it. All this talk of subliminal messages hidden in the ad breaks left me cold as opposed to intrigued.

That said, last night, I thought I’d give it a go whilst waiting for When Lineker met Maradona.

Cue dramatic music! Boom! Rushhhhh! What happened after the music?

Well, I can’t really remember… which doesn’t bode well for a TV review does it? It’s not that I’m bad at remembering things as a rule… it’s just… well, if you ask me (an untrained pair of eyes) not a great deal happens in Lost.

I’ll tell you what I can recall.

That bloke pictured above (who was in Party of Five) and some bald man went to (da-dum!) the hatch… blew it open, then didn’t want anything to do with it. The fat kid with the King Charles spaniel ears suddenly became animated and did the best impression of Keith Harris’ Cuddles the Monkey ("I hate that duck!") I’ve ever heard.

Then, after some panting, sweating and loooooooong meaningful looks, they went to the beach and had a meeting. They argued their way to a flashback which showed doctors and stuff.

In all honesty, I drifted in and out of consciousness, which then made me think that this programme is indeed, the eye ball/mind equivalent of opium.

If it isn’t opium, I’ll tell what it definitely is. It’s the X-Files for the noughties. Ok, so it isn’t about aliens (well, it may turn out that way I suppose), but it does feature high camp drama, mysteries and most importantly of all, it’s an oddball US drama that is badly scripted, filled with blatant cliffhangers and it has taken the whole of the world by storm.

One thing I’m sure of, is that I certainly don’t hate this programme. I did (much to my pal’s annoyance) scoff throughout… but I think this is how you start the slippery slope into addiction. No doubt I’ll be tuning into Lost every week, just to scoff at it. However, it will slowly turn into bravado, and I’ll be hooked like the rest of you.