I've gone through the various stages of X-Files interest and obsession and I seem to be on the far side of it. I spent most of the week before the movie really worried about how I would get ahold of the action figures. Once I did, I relaxed a lot, but looking back on it, the quest for my action figures involved me more than the movie did. I don't mention this to slight the movie, merely to give everyone a standard for my X-Files fan factor. Honestly, if it wasn't for Scully and Gillian Anderson, I would have stopped watching the show a while back.
Whereas
the writers and David Duchovny seem to have hit the wall with Mulder, both
in terms of his character arc and possibly Duchovny's talent, Anderson
and Scully are more watchable to me than ever. Part of this is that
Scully is a strong female character; arguably, the strongest, most positive
role model that American pop culture has ever beheld, not least because
the character's strength does not come from sexuality, maternal strength
or anger (which seems to be about the only way female pop role models are
presented these days). Scully is someone who is dedicated to logic
and rationality but also operates from a base of instinct, loyalty and
emotion (unlike, say, Spock, these two sides are integrated together and
each comes into play when necessary); in this way, Scully is also one of
the best representations of what it's like to be a scientist, a tall statement
in this science and technology obsessed culture that needs to disempower
the figures it powers and fear (scientists are either lovable, eccentric
nerds or driven, dehumanized robots). By reversing the traditional
roles assigned to men and women in genre fiction (analytical men, intuitive
women), the X-Files provides something that me and a lot of other people
around me seem to crave; role models for the age in which we've smashed
(and have to keep resmashing) the sexual sterotypes.
So
there are a few thrills in the X-Files movie, but considering that Scully
is kidnapped for a good section of it, not nearly enough for my liking.
I wanted Scully to kick some ass and, as far as I could tell from the San
Francisco audience I was with, so did everyone else. Without Anderson having
much to do, I was surprised that the movie wasn't a complete wash for me.
Part of the reason is that the director Rob Bowman has a good idea of who
to steal from and how to make it work. He grabs a camera P.O.V. stalking
scene from John Woo's Bullet in the Head, a chase through a lit tunnel
from Kubrick's The Shining, and some more chase stuff from Hitchcock.
Again, what's surprising is that he knows how to make what he steals work,
which makes him pretty rare in Hollywood, indeed. What's also surprising
is that I have a lot more interest in Duchovny as an actor again (I basically
saw him as a very handsome comedian before); at several points in this
movie, he comes across like a Hitchcock protagonist, and in his unselfconscious
handling of a mouthful of supposedly drunken exposition (one of the movie's
low points), he catches that sort of handsome passivity of many film noir
heroes. If I was ever assigned the nightmare task of remaking film
noir classic Detour, I would cast Duchovny. He's got at least one
great doomed noir hero in him (and no, I don't think it's Mulder).
The movie is good enough (and it seems, successful enough) that they'll
probably do another one, and I think that's good. Not because it
will allow this picture's macguffins to be solved and replaced with new
ones; it'll be good because I'll get another chance to see Scully kick
some ass, and another chance for a group of talented people to make something
better than lukewarm.
All written material on these pages is © 1998 by Jeff Lester. With the exception of non-profit distribution, all other rights are reserved.