Every now and then when my regular week night line-ups decide to take siestas, I scour through the local channels for some syndicated goodness. In an effort to keep my insomniac self entertained at night, I usually end up lounging with the Simpsons, or exploring the paranormal with a few FBI agents I know.
It has been a long while since I’ve watched the X-Files with any sort of succession, but despite the amount of time I spend away from it, the end of that mystical hour always has me somewhat amazed.
I remember the early days of the X; I was a youthful eighth-grader that knew little of the TV world except that these agents, dressed immaculately in dark suits, were searching for little green men to solve the mysteries of the world. They were kind of like the Power Rangers, but human, and just a tad more complex. What I didn’t realize, however, is that X-Files would be a revolutionary in terms of television programming, the aftershock of its paranormal storytelling quaking through plotlines more than a decade later.
I remember last night’s rerun to be a pinnacle event for the X-Files. Steven King penned it for the show and his exclusive ability to make things ridiculous turn freak-ass kicked in almost immediately. What other show could sell you a plotline about a possessed doll that causes people to do themselves harm? Mmmhmm, that’s right, go on and laugh. But when that little dolly causes people to stick crowbars up their head, that’s when you start to wonder. Not just about the inevitable doll-possession storyline that seems to haunt every sci-fi television show, but just why X-Files managed to make it seem like new. Why in their realm of episodic existence, is Chucky v. 1 million the best yet?
It’s because X-Files was branded with that thing called make-believe. You know, the deal where if you believe strongly enough in the power of your story and its ability to make audiences quiver, it will do just that. It’s kind of like that corn field thing with the baseball players. I can’t claim that X-Files started that fervent sense of imagination, but it certainly set something off in the way of fantastical storytelling in the nineties, the likes of which benefited the all too great Buffy, Angel, Smallville, and Alias’ of our time.
Now let’s talk procedural. For the last few years, us TV-kinds have been overrun by forensic types, lawyers and doctors who gather a body a week to slice, dice and investigate. X-Files didn’t necessarily party with post mortems, but it definitely lended itself to creating a mystery of the week phenomenon. We may not have always got a resolution, but we did get a fantastic duo of characters whose sense of respect and mutual admiration for one another was the centre of their subtle, yet heartfelt chemistry. If you can’t admit that the relationships between our favourite CSI compatriots doesn’t strive to be a fraction of that success, then at least admit to the sharp suit influence we see on Miami. Yup, totally X-y.
And finally, in order to give X-Files its full due, we must talk of the fringe-people. You know, the cult maniacs that take little weird shows and make them their own prized possessions. Little X had millions of those fans, the likes of which have, I’m sure, created a little alien colony on the Internet of their very own. The cult phenomenon may not have been the thing to talk about way back in the 90s, but it has since propelled the creation and subsequent sustenance of shows like Lost, who have been given the opportunity to make cult look cool. Now the fringe-people are becoming the mainstream; searching the Internet for clues about upcoming plotlines is cool, and an ongoing narrative, laid down painstaking piece by piece is reason to rejoice for devoted TV fans.
Every now and then X-philes, take a look back. The Truth about prime-time, is Out There for the taking.
