Critical Myth

Television has become the medium of today's modern mythology, delivering the exploits of icons and archetypes to the masses. Names like Mulder, Scully, Kirk, Spock, and Buffy have become legend. This blog is a compilation of the reviews written about the tales of our modern day heroes.

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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

X-Files 5.5: "The Post-Modern Prometheus"

Written by Chris Carter
Directed by Chris Carter

In which the classic tale of Mulder and Scully’s encounter with a mad scientist’s “monster” and a town’s obsession with disingenuous celebrity is told…


Status Report

At several points in the series’ run, the producers would come up with an episode concept that would step outside of the normal canon and present a more “mythological” context. Episodes like “War of the Coprophages” and “Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man” work far better when viewed as apocryphal: stories and tales told of iconic characters and people that have become part of some future legendarium.

In this case, it’s as if some measure of the story might have been true: a case in the middle of nowhere, involving a somewhat deformed child of genetic experiments gone awry, seeking to create through immoral means a mate. But the tone and style of the episode veer far from the realistic into the fanciful, casting the characters and situations into a classical fable mode. All in all, this is Chris Carter’s personal “thank you” to the fans and devotees that helped him take such concepts and turn them into an international sensation.

Like the aforementioned episodes, this is not an episode that lends itself to a linear breakdown; there are specific story elements that work better than others, but it’s not entirely necessary for the episode to hang together as a viable whole. Is it really worth getting into the plausibility of cross-breeding humans and animals in some attempt to create a monster bride? This is not Carter’s usual attempt to create “real monsters”. This is Carter’s version of Frankenstein, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide it.

The episode works all the better for it. When Carter attempted the Darin Morgan style of comedy in “Syzygy”, it fell far short. Indeed, Carter’s sense of comedy often descends into the harsh and needlessly cruel (“Fight Club” added layers of disturbing overtones to the Mulder/Scully dynamic, especially if one considers their medical state ala “Within”). But this is not so much a question of comedy as quirky, and Carter does a much better job with the weird.

Of course, Carter’s not Darin Morgan, and so the sensibilities of “Humbug” don’t come quite so easily. Carter’s version of a morality tale, steeped in the unusual and disturbing (and a little Cher), sometimes comes across as a bit too earnest. As many previous episodes had established, when Carter gets running with the overly prosaic monologues, they can get a bit ridiculous. There are moments where characters stop acting and sounding like themselves because Carter wants to drive him a point in poetic language or dump some relatively quick exposition. Thankfully, Carter sometimes understands this weakness; some of the scenes with Mulder and Scully are wonderfully self-aware.

If one takes the framing of the episode seriously, then this is Izzy’s version of the story, with the details changed and transformed to create this fantasy world that Carter gets to play in. That works well from a conceptual level, because one gets to wonder whether any of it really happened. The inclusion of Jerry Springer Show commentary is also an interesting angle on society and how the unusual or monstrous can easily become cause for celebrity. The use of the circus tent motif is not accidental.

It’s not at all surprising to hear that Mulder has been cited by guests of the Jerry Springer Show; indeed, the Syndicate Elders must slap each other on the back every time his name comes up! Like “Fallen Angel” in the first season, where it’s revealed that Mulder’s activities have become legendary within the fringe elements of the abductee community, Mulder becomes an icon for those seeking validation of their freakshow fantasies. Those living in quiet desperation seek the immediacy and “fame” that Jerry Springer once represented, and Mulder is seen as a conduit for an entire town to live out that “dream”, monster or not.

Lest this concept be missed by the audience, Scully gets to prattle on about it in atypically florid language. The irony is that Scully is the wrong person to be discussing psychological motivations. That’s probably part of why Mulder looks so damned amused throughout the entire monologue. Scully touches on the fears of the unknown, transference of negative emotions, and self-aggrandizement, and yet she might as well be staring at the screen and telling the audience to remember these topics because they’ll be on the quiz. Without the self-awareness of the scene, it would be ridiculously bad.

The introduction to Dr. Pollidori is a thing of beauty. Carter frames each scene as if it were an old issue of “Tales from the Crypt”, and it couldn’t be more appropriate. The content of the scene is really quite secondary to the style of it all; one can get the gist of the dialogue simply by following the composition of the each scene. It’s inspired filmmaking, made even better by the underlying sense of knowing humor saturating every moment. Even Pollidori wants those 15 minutes of fame, despite his desire for professional recognition.

As long as the town believes that Mulder can get them fame and perceived fortune, they treat him like a king. He is, for all intent purposes, the validation they need to achieve their pathetic dreams. Mulder himself becomes as much as symbol as the “monster” himself. He could literally be anyone and still be treated exactly the same. It’s very amusing, especially since it’s all so blatantly phoney.

The Great Mutato’s scene at the Pollidori home is easily one of the most surreal moments of the series. It stands as a perfect example of the particular flavor of this episode. It’s just about impossible not to watch in confusion and wonder at the melding of imagery and sound. It’s hard to imagine enjoying a scene that consists of a deformed man singing along with Cher in a house filled with anesthetic gas, but to Carter’s credit, it works beautifully.

Following a rather confusing and pretentious bit of commentary by Mulder (“Post-Modern Prometheus”, indeed), the agents run headlong into the middle of a gas cloud that could easily have killed them both in record time. It’s hard to imagine that Scully would do such a thing on her own, so it’s in deference to the needs of the story. Scully comes to the conclusion that the whole thing is a hoax, of course, and so that is what gets spread around. Whether Mulder agrees or not is incidental.

The barrier between the surreal fantasy world and stark reality begins breaking down when Pollidori kills his own father. The hope of fame and fortune falls apart, and scapegoats are suddenly needed to justify that emotional loss. Mulder becomes a symbol of a hostile and disapproving “outside world”, while the community centers its attention on finding the one behind the sexual assaults. Any semi-romantic notion of some marauding monster, previously glossed over by the thought of celebrity, comes crashing down. Immediately, it’s a witch hunt.

The emotional counterpoint is present in Mutato’s slow and mournful burial of The Old Man, his caretaker. Where the community’s emotions are still overwhelmed by false and misdirected outrage, Mutato experiences true pain and suffering. The normal people reduce the world to simple absolutes, while the “monster” confronts and accepts the burdens of reality. It drives the moral of the story home in a very touching way, without ignoring the fact that Mutato was involved in a monstrous scheme.

Pollidori, of course, is acting to purge the evidence of his own sins, and thus his motives are false. The townspeople consider it better to destroy a symbol then face the truth (thank you, Dr. Scully). Mulder and Scully are left to figure out what the hell is really happening. Once Mutato is exposed and confronted, Pollidori’s accusations are wrapped in the same heavy-handed prose as the agents’ more perplexing moments. And yet when Mutato speaks in equally florid terms, it works to counter the symbolism that has been created by the madness of the crowd.

This being a riff on “Frankenstein”, Mulder is correct: the “monster” is supposed to survive to live on, in search of his bride. Being sent away for Mulder does nothing to fulfill that parallel. And so the fanciful aspects of the story come into play as Mulder breaks through the norms of narrative convention to ask the writer to make it as it should be. And so the audience is treated to something of a fantasy themselves.

Carter was still insistent at this point that Mulder and Scully remain romantically at arms’ length. The end of this episode is really a way for him to provide that moment of happiness between them that would otherwise remain hidden below the surface. There’s the satisfaction of giving the “monster” his face-to-face with Cher as well (Mutato’s cheering is beyond endearing).

But as often as that scene is cited as evidence of “the love”, it should be remembered that this scene is meant, like the episode, to stand on its own. It fits within the context of the phenomenon that the “X-Files” had become as a part of its own accumulated legend. Casting the story in black and white adds to that “apocryphal” perspective, allowing for a visual flair that is more than capable of overcoming the episode’s minor flaws.


Memorable Quotes

IZZY: “I’m 18…I go anywhere I want.”
SHAINEH: “Yeah, but where you gonna live when you get back?”

MULDER: “Scully, do you think it’s too soon to get my own 1-900 number?”

SCULLY: “Is there anything you don’t believe in, Mulder?”

GEEK BOY: “What do you want me to do with these, Dr. Pollidori?”
POLLIDORI: “Never mind…”

JJ: “That’s with two J’s!”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a wonderful diversion from the canon, exploring some of the best aspects of the series’ concept while also providing commentary on a staple of 1990s culture. The black and white visuals add a fanciful flair to the entire hour, and while Carter’s peculiar prose sometimes gets a little pretentious, it’s also very self-aware. This is the kind of episode best enjoyed on its own, divorced from the typical expectations that come with the series.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 9/10

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