What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: "Lost" Action Figures: Awesome or Lame?

November 10, 2006

"Lost" Action Figures: Awesome or Lame?

Todd McFarlane's company has created a series of action figures based on the first season of "Lost." They're on sale beginning this Monday, and I really can't tell if they're incredibly awesome or just lame.

This uncertainty is not based on the fact that my favorite TV show is such a geek-fetish that it warrants action figures,

but the actual product. Each figure comes with its own painted backdrop of a memorable scene that makes each look like a middle school diorama. A really kick-ass middle school diorama, but middle school diorama, nonetheless.

I think maybe it's the scenes in which the dolls are displayed that makes them not so cool. Hurley's memorable moment is when he was holding the flag while Jack golfs. Wha...? And Shannon's recreates her sunbathing scene from the very first episode. Please. Forget that Shannon was probably the least likable character on the show, and think about the wisdom of creating an action figure that's lying down. I think perhaps McFarlane's boys phoned this one in.

The finished products seem more like a cheap merchandising opportunity, rather than the actually cool, fan-friendly memorablia they could be.

But I know one thing for sure: If they make "Lost" action figures based on season two, I'll be the first in line to get the Mr. Eko doll.

1 comment:

Scrap Heap Pete said...: Where's the 'Black Smoke' action figure? Now that would be cool.; 1:05 PM

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A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.