Everything but the Volleyball

That TV is a Vast Wasteland is the hoariest of cliches, by now. The mantra of "Lest Objectionable Programming" has reigned forever in this high-stakes industry, with the result being tepid product and reliance on standard genres peopled with high TVQ talent. Very rarely do the original three nets (unlike FOX) dabble in experimental variations, and it's usually because of the insistence of high-end showrunners like Steven Bochco (until he jumped the shark with "Cop Rock"). But occasionally, by happy accident, the creators and programmers stumble upon a formula that mixes genres in just the right proportion. This is the case this season with ABC, rising out of the lazy doldrums of its Regis Philbin era with this year's hits "Desperate Housewives"--an engaging but thin entertainment--and the more complex and involving "Lost."

"Lost" must have been an easy pitch. "Survivor" without Jeff Probst, as conceived by Stephen King. It didn't hurt that the creator, J.J. Abrams, had a major cult credit in "Alias" (a program I haven't watched, despite my admiration for Jennifer Garner and the show's good rep). "Lost" has a terrifically rich future, because it can branch out into several directions--adventure, science fiction, psychological drama, even travelogue. Not bad for an idea that goes back at least as far as Daniel DeFoe's "Robinson Crusoe"--or for that matter, Homer's "Odyssey."

I have an odd emotional reaction to this show. I do not anticipate it as avidly as I do other classy dramas, like the HBO character-driven Sunday shows, or the hyperkinetic "24," (Jesus Christ, they shot down the President this week!) Yet I find the experience of watching "Lost" just as absorbing. I guess it's the gradual pacing of Abram's storytelling, and the knowledge that there may or may not be an interesting revelation, that keep my expectations at bay. You would not have expected, from the pilot episode (in which, ironically, a pilot gets eaten), that the action elements of the show would be subsumed by the characters. It's Abram's genius to spend most of the first season investigating the back stories of the castaways, plotting the events that led each of them onto the doomed aircraft, just like Thorton Wilder's six poor souls who found themselves traipsing onto the Bridge over San Luis Rey just when it collapsed. Consequently the viewers become not only emotionally invested in the cast, but, in a cosmic irony sense, more aware of the cross motivations of these souls than the characters themselves.

Like the more intense and somewhat absurdist "24," the time frame of "Lost" is constricted, so it plays more like a novel than an episodic serial. Maybe a month of "real time" has elapsed since the opening crash, so the male actors have not had to grow ungainly beards, the actresses still have attractive coifs, and no one has become emaciated. More usefully, this deliberate pace will enable the writers to extend the series for a long time. Time is pretty much suspended on Mysterious Island, and the show could run a decade and not encompass more than a year (though they'd have to keep changing the actor playing the newborn baby).

There's a certain degree of cheat in all the elusiveness of the narrative, but it's fairer to call it poetic license. Scary chimeras are introduced, then shelved for several episodes. I do not regret the disappearance of the horrendous "It" monster that threatened the tribe in the pilot; it was almost there for symbolic purposes, representing the great Dread. I prefer the jeopardy of human conflict, which is embodied by the "other" castaways who appear occasionally and maliciously to knock off one of our brood. But Abrams has been influenced by "The X Files" and knows how to titillate with quasi-supernatural elements--the polar bear; the murderous pretty Frenchwoman who's survived sixteen years; the miraculous recovery of Terry O'Quinn's character Locke, who seems to be personally related to the Island.

To be sure, some of this is pitched artificially to encourage Internet buzz. Already various theories have arisen about the story's allegorical elements. My favorite is that these characters are actually dead but allowed to exist in limbo to work out the conflicts of their terrestrial lives. That might explain why their environment is so pretty. Nothing the producers of "Survivor" have chosen can compare with this Oahu north shore setting for visual delight and waterfall exhilaration.

But in the end, as in every successful show, it's the interplay of characters that has to engage us, and "Lost" works extremely well here. Its humanity cross-section includes a driven American doctor; a plucky but amoral Australian bank robberess; a heroic Iraqi Republican Guard veteran; a conflicted black father and son; a troubled Korean couple who gain our sympathy incrementally each week; an English rocker played by a former Hobbit; a porky L.A. Latino who incidentally won a giant Lotto prize; a step brother/sister combo whose underlying attraction will be drastically affected by the brother's recent death; and of course, the eerie Locke. Not to mention The Others, demons and what-not from the other side of the island (where the Outrigger Condos are) who are introduced as necessary to stir things up when our castaways get too cuddly. All this and the major subplot, nearly forgotten, of these people actually trying to escape the island with some makeshift raft, like Tom Hanks.

Abrams has given us a lot to chew on, and even if he jerks us around with ambivalence and a multitude of red herrings, the entertainment value is considerable. Just don't serve me any poi.