The Long Con (2.13)

[foxxcub]

I want to start at the beginning. Because, like everything else about this ep, nothing is wasted. One could simply remark on the fact that the episode was book ended with extremely significant interactions between the strongest men in the camp and the weakest. It opens with said strongest men, Jack and Locke, rearranging their power struggle; Jack resigns possession of the key, the same key that’s been present for almost an entire season. By doing so, he is giving up some of his power to Locke, which is both a good and a bad thing.

We then go from Jack and Locke to Sawyer and Charlie, and while Sawyer believes he is goading Charlie, there’s that little right hook Charlie gets in, throwing Sawyer off balance, and everything from then on escalates into a downward spiral. It’s still fairly ambiguous as to whether Charlie himself put all the following events into motion; maybe Sawyer was just waiting for the right opportunity since returning from the edge of death. Maybe Charlie had him figured out all along.

The theme of redemption in this show is no longer black and white. Yes, a drug addict can kick his habit, and yes, a criminal can reform. But not overnight, not even over months, especially if it’s part of what they’ve spent a better part of their life becoming. This season has begun, with The Hunting Party, a gradual reversal from the optimistic, hopeful tone that came at the end of season one. It may have been nearly three months since the crash, but these people haven’t come far. Beneath the façade of community lays layers and layers of paranoia and mistrust. Sawyer peeled it all back and has left it to fester. And Charlie helped, but with his own agenda in mind.

For Sawyer, guns = Shannon’s inhalers. He cares about possessions—a proverbial security blanket, if you will—but he’s smart enough to know that material things never last. He knew when he stepped foot on that raft that everything he left behind on the island was forfeit, and there hasn’t been enough time between his return and his recovery for him to have built up a decent stash. But he’s controlling, needs to have a sense of holding onto that part of himself that looks out for number one; Jack intruded without a word because he knows—or at least knew—that Sawyer was not the image of despicability he wanted everyone to see. And that scared the shit out of Sawyer. It would’ve happened eventually, be it Kate or Sayid or anyone else, for that matter. People weren’t becoming familiar with Sawyer, they were seeing James, and he’s beyond the point of being psychologically sound enough to deal rationally with that revelation.

He needs that misguided hatred to survive, because he cannot live on his own hatred alone—to be the only one hating yourself is to admit there is good in you that others see. His actions were meant to happen. It’s the only way the story and the show could be true to the character. How interesting that while Confidence Man began with us believing Sawyer a bad man, only to end with the knowledge and proof of the good, albeit damaged, man inside, this episode opened with us wanting to believe in the good in Sawyer, only to be devastated in the end over the possibility that a tiger’s stripes really don’t change. The Long Con is, in a way, a mirror image of Confidence Man slightly altered; the identical bedroom con job, only without the gullible blonde (the brunette catches on, HA); the face-off with Jack, only without the physical violence; the coaxing of Locke (a la Kate) to go along with Sawyer’s plan for the greater good, only the be completely played, but without physical retribution against Sawyer.

The “you took my stuff” was a line, delivered with the poise of a career liar. Again, his indignation here mirrors his smug cockiness in CM; both served as smoke screens for what Sawyer really wants. Charlie’s question of “what kind of person would think up something like that” is exactly what most of us were thinking during the initial airing of CM. What kind of person pretends to withhold drugs from a sick girl and demand kisses in exchange? The same kind that uses the fear and anxiety of a group of still virtual strangers against them without their knowledge.

In a sense, we learn just how much Sawyer is like Jack—neither one is capable of letting go of their demons. It’s who they are, what they’ve grown to believe they are. These two must have control of their environment or they simply can’t function, and there lies the conflict. Where Jack took the reigns of the situation almost straight out of the gate, Sawyer took the long way around, adapted, learned his surroundings. One could say he’s spent the better part of three months learning how to make Jack look like a fool.

His relationship with Kate isn’t damaged beyond repair. It’d be stupid for Kate to completely shun him, because she of all people knows what it’s like to play people. And she knows Sawyer better than anyone on the island; if she’s smart, she would’ve seen something like this coming, knowing Sawyer’s history and background. And she’s not completely shocked in the end, just disheartened. But she’s come about as far as Sawyer has; she runs, he cons, just like he said.

I want to believe there is significance in the people who call Sawyer by his real name. Locke calls him James with a sense of benevolence, as if it’s a privilege for him to do so. Calling Sawyer James brings a certain weight with it, and perhaps in Locke’s mind it means control of Sawyer as well. But what about Gordy? Never once did he refer to Sawyer as “Sawyer”; either he discovered Sawyer’s true identity on his own or something else happened that brought the name out in the open (like it did in Exodus). Hibbs called him Sawyer, but he also commented on the fact that it was “the name you appropriated for yourself.” And Cassidy never called him James, and probably never would. But Gordy says his real name several times, like a verbal slap reminding Sawyer that the name represents a life he left behind and a man he can no longer be.

He knew from the start that he’d come to care for Cassidy, and although he probably did love her, he still didn’t love her enough to give up his masochistic desire to put happiness barely within his reach, knowing he'll never, ever grasp for it. And maybe that’s what he meant when he told Kate he’d never been in love. Sawyer is extremely self aware, to the point where he can acknowledge to himself that he’ll never love anyone the way he should, because he will never love himself.

Sawyer will receive his redemption, but not this time. It would be unfair and lazy of the writers to bring him this far, plot-wise, only to cheat him out of anymore depth. As many have said, having the ammunition in Sawyer’s hands may work to the advantage of the group as a whole. Jack doesn’t have the level-headedness and Locke is becoming increasingly passive aggressive when it comes to violence on the island. Sawyer is the happy medium without the agenda—“happy” being relative.

To call this episode “predictable” is to disregard the subtle, come-from-behind brilliance at its core. The great episodes of this show take various threads and weave them together into a cohesive, illuminated whole. Outlaws and Exodus parts 1 and 2 are the greatest examples of character development and plot merging perfectly, and The Long Con ranks with them. But it also punches you in the gut and leaves you speechless; I sat through two meetings today and barely remember a word because all I could think about was bits of the episode and how amazing Sawyer’s story as whole story truly is, whether you love him or not. It’s just damn good writing.

And, of course, Josh Holloway.