"The heart of man is the place the Devil's in: I feel sometimes a
hell within myself."
--Sir Thomas Browne, "Religio Medici"
"In Christianity, neither morality nor religion come into contact with
reality at any point."
-- Friedrich Nietzsche
Faith and belief systems are the central themes I saw in "All Souls." I believe that I'm losing my faith in the writers to produce a Scully-centric episode that doesn't degenerate into a soap opera.
A story credit for "All Souls" is given to Bill Brown and Dan (I swear I am not making this up) Angel. The true injustice here is that there were flashes of brilliance in the basic story premise. More's the pity. What could have been a fine addition to The X-Files canon (and a ray of sunshine in an otherwise bleak season) was mutilated by screen writers John Shiban and Frank Spotnitz when they got their hands on the material.
If nothing else, you have to give Shiban & Spotnitz credit for seeing their vision through, regardless of how banal that vision was. Together, they (I still stubbornly cling to the belief that Vince Gilligan was not a party to that travesty called "Emily") created a version of Dana Scully that is weepy, weak and so unlike the character I've watched for the previous four years. This change may have been an attempt to soften Scully, to make her appear to be more "traditionally" feminine. Sadly, what they created was the anti-Scully, an insult to women of substance everywhere. This is what happens when male writers who are not David E. Kelley try to add dimension to an established female character. The result is a 1990s variation of June Cleaver.
The technical presentation of "All Souls" was nearly flawless. Jon Joffin made this allegory a visual treat with his eye-catching uses of shadows and light throughout the entire episode. The powerful images of the Seraphim in all its splendor were strong enough to fill the screen and yet depict the supernatural event that was occurring. And maybe I saw more than was actually there, but when Scully was performing the autopsy on the second girl, I could swear that the green light emanating in the background was in the classic shape of a angel. After having foiled the devil twice now, Scully had better have an angel looking over her shoulder.
Mark Snow's music was better at times than others. There were some nice traces of Gregorian Chant (after all, the character was named Father Gregory ;) and there were a couple of nice interludes featuring kettle drums that helped to build suspense. But other musical passages seemed to be recycled from past episodes that dealt with demonic themes, such as "Die Hand, Die Verletzt" and "Revelations." Director Allen Coulter moved the story along at an even pace, making sure to capture all the blatant symbolism that was intended by the writers. There were too many scenes of Scully introspection that each seemed to linger too long.
Gillian Anderson had to carry much of the load for "All Souls." It is painfully obvious that this season has sapped her of most of her strength. That blank, detached look while in the confessional didn't match what I think she should have been feeling as she unloaded her feelings of guilt and angst. Her rapt gaze at the vision of the Seraphim seemed forced, and her reaction to seeing Emily was strained. Emily is the product of a rape, albeit not in the traditional sense. This child was a product of the Consortium's machinations, of the theft of Scully's ova. While the joy of motherhood should be an uplifting experience, especially one who's been told that she is, to use the Biblical term, barren, Anderson's Scully doesn't react with the outrage that should have been present when she relives the vision of the doomed waif. On the other hand, Anderson was appropriately rapt upon seeing the Seraphim in the street.
There were several references to earlier horror films dealing with demonic possession. 1973's "The Exorcist" leaps to mind, as does 1968's "Rosemary's Baby." I don't mind saying that when I first saw it, "The Exorcist" was the scariest movie I had even seen. Time hasn't mellowed that experience. When the priest arrives to baptize the first girl, he arrives at night at the home of the parents (not in a church), and he's carrying a black bag, the way Father Merrin did. Father Gregory, depicted as a revolutionary, selects as his symbol the upside-down cross. This made me flash back to the upside down cross that hung over the bassinet in "Rosemary's Baby." Somehow, I doubt that William Peter Blatty and Ira Levin feel flattered about being paid a tribute in this episode of The X-Files.
Guest star Jody Racicot turns in a performance rivaling the best of Laurie Holden for wooden expression during the recitation of one's lines. He was nowhere near being convincing enough to make me buy the writers' feeble attempt at misdirection ("We want you to believe that this is the guy who's really the Devil because of the upside down cross"). Glen Morshower's subtle forcefulness and omnipresence made him the obvious choice as The Evil One. This might have been more effective if his character's name, Aaron Starkey, did not contain letters that a 10-year-old could rearrange to form the name "Satan." This had all the subtlety of a Bruce Willis movie.
The final, filmed version of the script was simply a travesty. Spotnitz and Shiban had to drag Emily into it for no other reason than to have Gillian Anderson shed some more screen tears in hopes of getting an Emmy nomination. They demonstrated no concept of what constitutes sub text. They erred terribly when Scully, the supposedly devout Catholic, didn't know what an upside-down cross meant, but Mulder, the atheist, did. They relied on special effects to carry the story. They took a good idea from some dismissed writers and, for lack of a better term, 1013-ized it. I felt cheated and manipulated and insulted. For hockey fans, that's known as a hat trick. "All Souls" gets one less.
My Score: 2 out of 10