Arguably one of the most iconic shows of the 2000s, if not ever, Lost stood out in the television landscape — in part due to the size and diversity of its ensemble cast. Out of the 14 characters attached to the show's first season co-created by J.J. Abrams, JeffreyLieber, and Damon Lindelof, four were women and six were people of color — but by the show's sixth and final season in 2010, hardly any non-white non-male character was integral to the plot in any meaningful way. While the cast might have appeared diverse (at least by 2004 standards) on the surface, by its end, Lost showed its viewers that it was really never about anything more than white men vying for power, and behind the scenes that seemed to hold true in part as well. In a bombshell Vanity Fair article from May 2023, an excerpt was released from critic and writer Maureen Ryan's book Burn It Down: Power, Complicity, and a Call for Change in Hollywood, in which multiple screenwriters from Lost detailed the show's racist and misogynistic behind-the-scenes culture. Upon a rewatch of the show, it's clear how this toxicity leaked into the writing itself in insidious ways.
The mistreatment of the show's male characters of color, particularly Harold Perrineau's Michael Dawson, cannot be understated. Perrineau's story of retaliation taken upon his character is the most explicit example of biases influencing writers. But a less discussed aspect of the show's faux diversity is the way that female characters were treated over the course of Lost's run. Characters like Kate Austen, Claire Littleton, and Shannon Rutherford were allowed to be one of two things — an asset or an obstacle in the paths of the show's white male heroes.
J.J. Abrams Isn’t the Savior the Sci-Fi Genre Expected
The director's vision has always been somewhat... bland.Kate Was 'Lost's Favorite Punching Bag
The most obvious example of Lost's questionable-at-best treatment of its female characters is Evangeline Lilly's Kate Austen. Kate's character arc starts out strong and introduces viewers to some of the first of the show's many, many mysteries. It's revealed early on that she was on the infamous Oceanic Flight 815 as the prisoner of a United States Marshal, later landing on the island while still in handcuffs (which she managed to remove in the chaos of the crash). Her character is instantly thrown into question for both the audience and the other survivors. Who is she? What did she do? Can she be trusted? Eventually, Kate's backstory, slowly revealed over the initial seasons of the show, is both tragic and compelling. She's been a fugitive of the law for years after killing her abusive father to protect her mother and herself. It's the kind of morally gray area that television thrives on. The show could have done so much with Kate's character, but it ends up downgrading her to a simple love interest, positioning her as the object of affection in a relationship triangle that involves both Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox) and Sawyer (Josh Holloway).
By the end of Lost's second season, any real plot or character development for Kate is more or less thrown out the window. The third season opens with her and Sawyer trapped in a cage where they eventually have sex — which Jack just so happens to witness via camera feed. Things only get bleaker for her from there. In a chicken-or-egg type of paradox, Kate became one of the least favorite characters among fans during Lost's original run, which poses the question of whether she was hated for bad plotlines and inconsistent personality or given bad storylines because the writers didn't know where to go with her character beyond a certain point. While Lilly would go on to bigger roles later on in her career — like The Wasp in the Marvel Cinematic Universe — Kate became somewhat of a scapegoat in the fandom for all things wrong with the show, thus perpetuating the cycle of thinly veiled misogyny.
Claire Didn't Fare Much Better in 'Lost'
Ultimately, Kate ends up with Jack (kind of — timeline logic in Lost is famously complicated) and takes on the role of mother to his nephew, Aaron, the biological son of Claire Littleton (Emilie de Ravin). Initially one of the youngest survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 (later revealed to be Jack's half-sister because Lost loves connecting its characters' backstories), Claire gets probably the shortest end of the stick of all the show's characters. Landing on the island while nine months pregnant, Claire is soon kidnapped and subjected to medical testing by the island's Others. She's eventually rescued and returned to the other survivors, but then she has to give birth, unmedicated, in the middle of a jungle. To top it all off, her baby is kidnapped shortly after his birth.
After Aaron's birth, Claire is no longer the token pregnant woman, and as a consequence, the show doesn't really seem to know what to do with her. She remains something of a presence until after her main love interest's tragic death by drowning and then follows the ghost of her (and Jack's!) dead father off into the jungle for three years, where she slowly loses her mind to the mysterious forces of the island. Yikes. Because of her abandonment of Aaron, Kate pretends to be his mother when they eventually (in one timeline, at least) are rescued from the island. Claire is dealt tough blow after tough blow in Lost and undergoes more trauma during her time on the island than many of the other characters combined. Can anyone really blame her for running off into the jungle to get away from everything?
'Lost' Had No Issues With Killing Its Darlings
At least Claire gets to live through all of Lost's six seasons. The same can't be said for some of the show's other characters, particularly Shannon Rutherford (Maggie Grace), Ana Lucia Cortez (Michelle Rodriguez), and Libby Smith (Cynthia Watros) — all of whom were offed in storylines that were either overly complicated or seemed to stem from a lack of knowing what to do with them beyond a certain point. After Shannon's stepbrother Boone Carlyle (Ian Somerhalder) is killed off in the Season 1 finale (which freed up Somerhalder to provide us with the iconic Damon Salvatore in The Vampire Diaries), Shannon's expiration date as a character seems to be looming, too. No surprise, then, that she later dies after being accidentally shot and killed by Ana Lucia, herself a survivor of the tail section of the plane (whose existence is revealed in the first episode of Season 2). Of course, by the end of that same season, Ana Lucia's importance as a character wanes, resulting in her and Libby's deaths at the hands of Michael in one of the show's most convoluted plots, which is saying something.
Amidst recent scandals, crazy plot lines, and a highly divisive finale, Lost has carved itself out a place for itself as one of the television greats — and this is certainly not undeserved. The show took huge risks in its subject matter and storytelling devices, giving its viewers a string of mysteries that kept them on the edge of their seats week after week. Drawing elements from philosophy and religion, as well as sci-fi and mythology, Lost resulted in a series that walks a fine line between the importance of plot and character development. In the not-so-unlikely event that this series gets a reboot in today's remake-obsessed culture, it would be great to see the women and POC get more to work with instead of being relegated to mere plot devices or easy targets for shock-value deaths. In the meantime, viewers can always watch The Wilds or Yellowjackets to get their female-focused plane crash survivor show fix.
