I'm late on this "Lost" review but I get a pass because the in-laws were in town and the kid's been entirely too cranky. So without further delay . . .

"Lost" may have redeemed itself in Wednesday’s third season premier, this, after a so-so second season with too many unanswered questions, too much lag time in the middle and a fondness for killing off some of the most interesting characters (Anna Lucia). Again they’re toying with us: The first shot is of a woman we’ve never met before (a la season two’s Desmond) in a house we don’t know. She is burning muffins and looking very post-modern-put-upon housewife. Cut to the bookclub: She’s in her living room surrounded by people dressed in khakis and Izod shirts. They sit on normal looking couches and argue over the choice of novel (we later see it’s something by Stephen King and one crazy blogger sleuthed about to discover it’s a hardcover reprint of “Carrie”--seriously). Muffin Lady is pissed because a male guest is trashing her book pick and in the heated back and forth it’s hinted that she’s somehow separated from her husband Ben, the Henry Gale imposter and possible leader of The Others. Moments later, an earthquake hits and the guests sprint for the doorways. Except it’s not an earthquake—it’s the Lost plane, Oceanic flight 815, screaming and popping through the air as it hurtles toward the earth. Outside, there is measured chaos as we see Ben call out orders to the men we know as Ethan and Goodwin—they must pretend to be survivors and report back. The last shots of the opener are of nicely dressed neighbors milling about finely manicured lawns that abut perfect “Pleasantville” homes . It’s a suburban utopia—well—a suburban utopia prone to magnetic pulses and plane crashes. But still, I am breathless with anticipation because I have to know: How is it that the Others came to own lawnmowers?

The opener was brilliant and compelling and the rest of the show, while chock full of entertaining moments, seemed to be just a hair shy of meeting that bar. A few scenes offered seriously memorable lines, most notably when Ben and Kate (in a pretty sundress) are eating a decadent breakfast beachside. Kate demands that her captor answer these questions: How are her friends, why is she there, what does he want from her, and Ben, ever the control freak, tells her in that weird, messianic voice, “The next two weeks are going to be very, very unpleasant.” Creepy. We don’t know how or why Kate’s world is going to suck, but the fact remains, Ben the weird Messiah guy says so and we can pretty much bank on it.

Meanwhile, Sawyer wakes to find himself in a giant hamster cage and then with the help of some other guy (formerly trapped in his own giant hamster cage and methinks an Others plant, though the motivation is unclear) gets loose and then promptly tasered by aforementioned Muffin Lady. My favorite Sawyer moment though, is when, after he’s spent what seems to be the better part of a day figuring out how to work the feed contraption and brags about it to his captor, Zeke (now beardless and considerably less scary), Zeke scoffs back, “It only took the bears two hours to figure that out.” Yes, we humans are a sad, pathetic lot deserving of being locked in hamster cages and Sawyer is dumber than a bear.

Meanwhile, Jack is trapped in a dark, cavernous room and Muffin Lady wants to feed him. Jack does not want to eat. Jack must eat, Muffin Lady says, because they’ve injected him with some mysterious Others drug that leads to massive dehydration and hallucinations if the injectee goes without food. Jack agrees to be a good boy and eat his meal, but then behaves badly. He attacks Muffin Lady, grabs her taser in the scuffle and while trying to escape encounters Messiah Ben. Jack wants to open the big, heavy door to get away from Messiah Ben but Muffin Lady tells him that if he does, they’ll all die. Curious. So what does Jack do? He opens it and out pours an avalanche of water. Muffin Lady and Jack must swim to safety, and coughing and sputtering for air, Muffin Lady punches bad boy Jack so handily, she knocks him out, allowing for a cool camera angle of floaty Jack captured from below. Score one for Muffin Lady—damn is that broad tough! She’s set to be a major player in this season, perhaps the desperate outcast and lone defector among the Others. And with a little luck, she’ll go Carrie on everyone (as the Stephen King book shot might imply)—blood spatter for all, a severed head for Ben. Or maybe the writers will simply slum it opting instead for the boring and obvious—could she be Jack’s next love interest?

I for one wasn’t so interested in the Jack backstory. Woe is him, sad, pathetic Jack—he of the slutty ex-wife and distraught alcoholic father. As for Muffin Lady’s Jedi mind tricks regarding Jack’s sordid past, I’m certain the writers will be doling out tasty little morsels ever so slowly over the course of this season. Meanwhile, you and I must remain the metaphorical equivalent of poor Sawyer trying to position the rock just right so he can get the fish biscuit. We’re all begging to know: What exactly do the Others want? Why is Jack stuck in the dolphin tank? Will there be a reenactment of that old Sea World skit where the little ferret comes out pushing a shopping cart? No? Well regardless, I’m just thrilled all of us are on this island together and holy fuck, now there’s a freakin’ theme park! Hydra and dolphins and bears, Oh My!