"How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!
But grant me still a friend in my retreat,
Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet."
-- William Cowper, "Retirement"
The last two episodes of this series are demonstrative of just how good television drama can be when you combine a talented cast, delicate writing and superb direction. They rank among the best efforts of television drama this season. Ooops! I'm sorry. I forgot! I don't write reviews of Homicide: Life on the Streets episodes. This is supposed to be a review of an episode of The X-Files.
"Emily" is the conclusion to the latest two-part story arc involving the Mythology that is at the core of The X-Files. Writers John Shiban, Frank Spotnitz and Vince Gilligan have attempted to provide us with a heart-wrenching conclusion to last week's "Christmas Carol" and to provide more insight into the nature and inner machinations of the Conspiracy. They failed miserably.
From the opening sequence with Scully ruminating over the emptiness of her life as she walks on a deserted beach amidst a Sirocco to the final fade out as she clutches her now-famous gold cross, this bloated, contrived and obvious attempt at a religious allegory falls short on almost every level.
Scully's opening soliloquy, voiced over as she plods through the swirling sands in her flowing black gown was meant to depict her as a transgendered version of Moses, searching for the Promised Land. It came off looking like a low-budget Stevie Nicks video. This travesty was outdone only by the outrageously pretentious and self-absorbed monologue, which would have one believe that her journey is one that must be made in solitude. It was downhill from there.
The story attempts to tie in some previously disjointed aspects of the Conspiracy, that of the green goo-bleeding shape-shifters and the abduction of women (including Scully) for the purpose of harvesting their eggs for experimentation. I try to analyze the Mytharc episodes in terms of questions answered and new questions raised. Why did they kill Emily? Why did they create Emily in the first place? Why are they using elderly women who are long past childbearing age to propagate these beings? Why lead Mulder to the rest home where he was sure to find the evidence of what was going on? Why was there no one at least watching the rest home, if not outright protecting it from Mulder's prying eyes? Why didn't Dr. Calderon possess the same physical strength that the other two green-goo goons did? SSG more than exceeded their quota of new questions raised, but we were shortchanged on answers that made any sense.
There were several other problems with the tepid script that went way beyond continuity errors, including the absurd length of time that Scully was supposedly missing during her abduction. In a span of five minutes, Scully is made to look ridiculous not once, not twice, but three times. She tells detective Kresge (John Pyper-Ferguson) that he didn't need to post guards outside Emily's door and that doctor Calderon was trying to keep her alive; then she told social worker Susan Chambliss that Doctor Calderon did worsen Emily's condition. Finally, she goes into a rage about how she'll make the department of Social Services look bad if they take Emily away from her.
Scully doesn't even berate Mulder for not telling her about her harvested ova. I have two problems with this. First of all, she should have already known that she was barren. If she didn't, that would mean that she didn't have a complete physical after she recovered from being returned after her abduction. This seems, well, inconceivable to me. ;) My second problem was that she sat there stoically after Mulder told her that he already knew. She should have been angry that he knew, and more angry that he didn't tell her he knew. This could have been one of the most intimate moments in the series. Instead, we got two people sitting on a couch, spouting emotionless dialogue such as, "You knew? Why didn't you tell me?" and "I was trying to protect you." Protect her from what? The truth? When Mulder's whole professional life has been the pursuit of the truth?
Mark Snow's musical score was all too often obtrusive and overbearing. When I'm watching an episode and the music overpowers the scene and captures my attention, then Snow has exceeded the limits. The best background scores are those which blend in with the action on the screen, not the ones which make you take notice of it. The subtlety of last week's effort was undone by the cacophony that passed for this week's score.
The acting in "Emily" was inconsistent at best. Gillian Anderson spent most of the episode either fighting back tears or feeling sorry for herself. There was no depth, no range, no challenge presented to her. Given that Anderson's performances week in and week out are the most consistently excellent on television today, we must once again blame the writers for their smattery script. Watch the scene where she chides the Social Worker in the hospital about moving Emily despite her lack of legal standing and you'll see that even Gillian Anderson couldn't make lemonade out of the lemon of a script she was handed.
David Duchovny fared somewhat better, but not much. His "beat the truth out of him" scene with Dr. Calderon was a disgrace, and the sissy-slaps that began the sequence were an outright embarrassment. The only redeeming feature of that scene was the unique perspective provided by the from-the-floor-view as Calderon crawled around like a schoolboy getting pummeled by the playground bully. His parting shot, "I'll be back," was, however, simply inane.
Duchovny had to memorize what had to be the single most obtuse and convoluted speech in the history of the series when he was talking to the judge during Scully's custody hearing. He did it, and he didn't break up laughing when he delivered the lines. That's either dedication to your craft or good editing. Duchovny did have some nice moments in the Home for Geriatric Unwed Mothers. ;) His scenes with Anna Fugazzi were warm and compassionate, and he genuinely looked startled when the fetus moved its feet. And his scenes with Anderson were natural, including the scene in the church at the end of the episode.
The best feature of "Emily" was the visual aspect. Cinematographer Joel Ransom was in top form. The scene in the Special Needs building with Scully and Emily, with its bright, cheery yellow walls, was brilliantly photographed. Other scenes, such as at the custody hearing, with light streaming in the windows while Mulder awaited his turn to testify for Scully, were likewise beautiful to view. And the closing scene in the church, from the fade-in to the stained glass window to the final fade-out, was perfectly framed.
Aesthetics notwithstanding, "Emily" was a case of excessiveness. There was too much self-indulgence by both Scully and Mulder. There was too much heavy-handed symbolism that a fourth grader would have been able to discern. There were too many instances where the background score came to the forefront and detracted from the visuals. There was an excessive regression of the Scully character from the lighter, glad-to-be-alive Scully of "Detour" and "Post-Modern Prometheus" to the dour, self-aggrandizing Scully of "Emily." This is where I get to be excessively harsh in my assessment of the episode.
My Score: 2 out of 10