The X-Files: I Want to Believe (2008)

One of the lasting emotions I held following the series finale was a sense of literal bewilderment, confused by the decisions Chris Carter made and wondering why he would end his own series the way he did. Presumably he was intending to follow up those lingering questions in a movie, a movie-sized budget making the anarchic spectacle of that 2012 alien invasion even more vivid. I originally watched I Want to Believe in theaters, having not seen the last couple of X-Files years and unaware of how it left the characters, and believed it was pretty underwhelming but generally fine. But what I didn't experience was a sense of confusion. Watching it again, now with knowledge of where the characters ended up in the series itself, I'm very much bewildered by it.

The X-Files: The Truth (9.19) / (9.20)

Even before I sat down at the start of 2010 and decided to watch the entire run of The X-Files, I was aware that the series finale was a notorious disappointment. But I was under the impression that the disappointment came about due to the total lack of revelations or resolutions, not because the entire ninety-minute closer was such a horribly-scripted car wreck. The Truth is not a good episode. It's not a good finale and it's not even a good mythology episode. If anything it's a bizarre exercise in executive producer brain-leakage, something so absurd in its execution that it nearly descends into satire.

The X-Files: Sunshine Days (9.18)

These last run of episodes have seemingly been trying to represent every past sensibility of The X-Files, bouncing from serial killer horror to monster supernature, back round to alien mythology and now comedy experimentation. Sunshine Days is a little light on the comedy, but Vince Gilligan lends a neat sense of strangeness to the episode, which opens up as a wacky goof-ball mystery full of strange eccentrics and visions of 1970's sitcoms, before settling on more character-driven drama with a surprisingly tender father/son relationship. It's tonally disoriented, but easily reflects all the ideas and creativity of the X-Files writing team over the years.

The X-Files: Release (9.17)

Presumably having now become aware that the show was about to end, Release is the second episode in two weeks that brings to a close some of the series' long-running story arcs. With that in mind, it would be a little unfair to criticize the episode for not being as impactful as it could have been -- potentially in the hands of writers with a stronger sense of direction, we would have already had a greater emotional attachment to the story of Doggett and his deceased son, instead of just a couple of vague references over the last two seasons. Regardless, Release is a strong episode on its own, despite its faults.

The X-Files: William (9.16)

This is a story of two halves. It tries to bring something of a resolution to the Mulder arc (before an elaborate fake-out tosses that away), and finally brings to a close the entire character of Scully's son. It goes without saying that one of them is stronger than the other. While there's still that annoying vibe of the writers keeping David Duchovny off the show while simultaneously using Mulder for drama whenever possible, I liked the rawness of the cast encountering a man who could potentially be the guy they've been looking for all these months.

The X-Files: Jump the Shark (9.15)

I'm not sure if this didn't work for me because it was a weak episode, or if it's because I literally have no feelings, negative or otherwise, about the Lone Gunmen. I understand that they had their own fanbase back when the show was airing, so I'm sure their big coda affected a bunch of people out there. But I found myself generally unmoved by their demise. Because they were always such a one-joke unit played by actors without even a hint of charisma between them, their death scene is a curiously flat moment -- the three of them staring blankly as the affects of the virus are felt, and I guess everybody is supposed to be sad.

The X-Files: Scary Monsters (9.14)

Sometimes writers get a little lazy when writing about supernatural occurrences, and Scary Monsters falls into that trap. The episode centers on a young boy with the ability to bring his scary artwork to life, and while that idea naturally gives way to freaky-deaky imagery, Thomas Schnauz's script ends up just throwing a bunch of scary shit at the cast. So we get latex-belly ookiness, blood streaming from eyes, hands going through stomachs and explosions of bugs. Blah. It actually reminded me a lot of that old, old episode The Calusari, with random acts of spookiness occurring with little internal depth.

The X-Files: Improbable (9.13)

Like last episode, there's a definite sense of the show repeating stock ideas but pushing them through the use of new characters. But while last week's Underneath played around with an idea that hasn't produced spectacular results at any point in the show's history, Improbable relies upon the concept of free-will and how everything in our lives is the result of some kind of universal algorithm. It's something that's been done before in the classic Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose as well as to lesser effect in season seven's Goldberg Variation, but Improbable manages to find amusing new areas within the concept, as well as featuring a charming performance from the legendary Burt Reynolds.

The X-Files: Underneath (9.12)

By this point, there's definitely a formula for these kinds of episodes. There are some grizzly prosthetics, visuals lifted straight from Se7en, a serial killer randomly pursuing innocent people to kill, a third-act supernatural plot twist. Rinse and repeat. It's only when the show manages to stumble upon a decent guest actor or add some dimension to the character himself that things actually brighten up a little. But it still can't disguise the fact that Underneath is another drab entry in the X-Files 'serial killer' wheelhouse.

The X-Files: Audrey Pauley (9.11)

Audrey Pauley shares various superficial similarities with 4-D from earlier in the year. They're both written by Steven Maeda, and both are pulpy, experimental thrillers involving Reyes lost in time and space. They're also the only two episodes this season that could easily be compared to vintage X-Files, at least in terms of quality. This is a fascinating hour in which science fiction is used as a vessel for a traditional procedural story, but the honesty of the characters and the way in which Maeda's plotting furthers the Doggett/Reyes relationship both cement it as something of a modern X-Files classic.

The X-Files: Providence (9.10)

Again, it feels like a bunch of hot air. Providence is another in a long, long line of myth-arc episodes that put across the illusion of saying something without actually saying anything at all. The William story has now become so shapeless that you're never surprised by any of the events that occur. There are a couple of pointers about William being either the savior of mankind or the ruler of the aliens, depending on Mulder's survival, but again it's benching the story in the hands of what's essentially a lump wrapped in a blanket... and a guy who's not actually on the show anymore. What it does is leave the cast members that are still hanging around, and who can actually talk, drifting along with little importance in the grand scheme of things.

The X-Files: Provenance (9.9)

It stopped being a fresh complaint around five seasons ago, but the total lack of direction in The X-Files' longer story arcs mortally wounded this show. In Provenance, we once again see the show pulling from long-dropped continuity, in this case the spaceship rubbings Scully made back at the start of season seven, and it entirely feels like the show randomly throwing darts at something from the past and deciding to run with it again. My memory is always hazy with The X-Files, but wasn't that story just dropped without question years ago? It's just too hacky, the work of people with absolutely zero forward thinking.

The X-Files: Hellbound (9.8)

I feel like whenever the show focuses on Reyes, her worst qualities rise to the surface. I'm not sure if it's Annabeth Gish's performance, or the lack of subtlety when it comes to the writing -- but she always adopts this strange intensity, speaking in this low register and tossing around wild theories in this monotone delivery. Gah. I understand that people never liked this character, and while I didn't have a huge problem with her last season, the constant repetition of those same moments, where she's staring blankly while reading some elaborate monologue, have gotten seriously old. Annoying.

The X-Files: John Doe (9.7)

There's a lot of warmth to this episode, both in the over-saturated lenses that director Michelle MacLaren uses to capture Mexico's intense heat, but also in Doggett's final epiphany. Doggett has always been a character running from the truth. He's had moments where he seemed to come around to extreme possibilities, but this season, in particular, he's settled back into skeptical mode, ignoring the supernatural right in front of him. But John Doe cleverly turns this around, Doggett forced to embrace the sometimes painful truth in order to regain his entire memory. It's a moving finale to what's already an intriguing episode.

The X-Files: Trust No 1 (9.6)

I'm not sure if this was completely awful. Because I've never been hugely invested in The X-Files on an emotional level, episodes like this wind up washing over me like some kind of floaty mirage. Ooh, the pretty colors. Ah, some interesting video surveillance camera effects. But, when it comes down to it, Trust No 1 literally winds up being a story about nothing. The one notable revelation is that the super-soldiers can be destroyed by some kind of metal alloy, but that isn't at all interesting enough to form a whole episode around. And, once again, we have characters reduced to nothing but weepy cyphers pining over a lost Mulder. The show seems by turns desperate to explore fresh territory with new protagonists, as well as terrified to step out of Mulder's shadow -- still painting him as the definitive over-arching presence on this show, even when David Duchovny is so removed from it that he doesn't actually appear anymore.

The X-Files: Lord of the Flies (9.5)

This is one of those episodes that wraps up generic simplicity in a showy, self-consciously 'wacky' tone, in an attempt to create something along the lines of Bad Blood or Jose Chung's From Outer Space. The X-Files has always been slightly unbalanced when it comes to comedy, sometimes stumbling upon genuine humor with a lot of heart to it, while other times appearing so desperate to reach those Darin Morgan highs that things become strained and sort of embarrassing. Lord of the Flies falls into the latter area, ending up an aimless mess with no discernible purpose.

The X-Files: 4-D (9.4)

This is by far the strongest showcase for Reyes since her character's arrival, finally an episode that allows Annabeth Gish to play something besides excitable New Age schtick. Considering she's been around for a while, it's about damn time. 4-D portrays Reyes as an actual human being, and I liked seeing events from her perspective, both in her ability to unravel a mystery as well as through her bond of trust with Doggett. The episode's outcome heavily relies on that tenderness, and it provokes enough audience goodwill that accepting the two of them as the show's new protagonists becomes a little less difficult.

The X-Files: Daemonicus (9.3)

I questioned last season whether The X-Files had grown out of its standalone-driven identity, but Daemonicus manages to explore new areas to old material, creating an episode that falls apart at times yet remains perfectly entertaining as a schlocky horror mystery. What most engages is the freaky-deaky direction this week, Frank Spotnitz going all-out with the scary visuals; transitioning between scenes with shots of billowing and blackened CGI skies, cross-fading between incarcerated psychopaths and rubber-masked demon faces, as well as that interesting crane shot where the checkerboard floor tiles are superimposed over the next scene. It's all very Hitchcockian, lending the episode a gravitas it probably would have lacked in the hands of a less showy director.

The X-Files: Nothing Important Happened Today II (9.2)

While I appreciate any episode that doesn't fall down on generic plot devices, the whole 'toxic water supply' thing seems a peculiar story in which to open up season nine. The super-soldiers continue to work on a vacuous, headless-body, arm-through-the-chest sort of way, but it's not the most arresting of storylines, especially in a season that is struggling to define its purpose for existing. Folding into that, the show needs to gain the confidence to actually kill one of these super-soldiers, since constant chase sequences and apparent deaths followed by shock twist resurrections get old after a while.

The X-Files: Nothing Important Happened Today (9.1)

Mulder's disappearing act can only be read as last-minute contrivance. I'm assuming that there were lengthy negotiations with David Duchovny over the summer, but neither side could come to an agreement. Unfortunately, it leaves this episode with a bittersweet quality. Sure, The X-Files is back for a ninth season (which I guess will bring satisfaction to many), but there's this strange feeling generated here where Doggett and Reyes are positioned as the show's new leads, but Scully is still lingering around in the background. It's like the show is having its cake and eating it too, confident to look to the future but too scared to fully cut old ties.