The X-Files

Until the last moment, I didn't believe that in today's time, especially after the infamous results of the second movie, the whole project could be successfully brought to a conclusion, and I was even more excited after the first viewing. The series that introduced me to the continuing television stories is back and has everything that it succeeded in years ago. The most positive surprise is the realization that it is continuing without hesitation in the same tone where it left off last time. The final (and now almost legendary) two-parter The Truth has closed all the original avalanche of questions and the following (partially rejected by fans) I Want to Believe is not about the search for visitors, conspiracies, and hidden truths, but about the search for oneself. However, its mood is closest to the new stories in terms of my enthusiasm. Its own doubts are, in fact, the driving force behind the entire revival, and surprisingly, they find their place in EVERY episode. Perhaps most satisfying for me, surprisingly, are Darin Morgan's two episodes, Founder's Mutation and Home Again, which are sufficiently scary but primarily surrounded by moving family storylines, proving that the events surrounding William in the last seasons have an essential and inevitably tragic undertone even after so many years. Among Morgan's episodes, the more wild Mulder & Scully Meet the Were-Monster discreetly slipped in, which understandably caused outrage or misunderstanding among unfamiliar viewers, but for those who remember legendary lighthearted rides such as Bad Blood or Jose Chung's 'From Outer Space', it brings perhaps even more enthusiasm. Because, in addition to the typical narrative methods, the creators also brought back the self-depreciation, which will only be fully appreciated by those who paid attention years ago and remember more than yellow Tooms' eyes or glowing forest insects from the original series. Chris Carter remains a chapter entirely to himself. While, for surprisingly high percentage of viewers, the long-lasting background full of abductions, colonization, or black oil was to some extent a necessary evil, for me, these stories redefined the word mythology. All the storylines, including those related to not-so-lovingly-known super soldiers, were always something more, which reliably magnetized me every time, even during weaker periods. That's why I was shocked when I had to admit after the opening My Struggle that such a weak mythology episode had never been before, and I was genuinely worried about the fate of the requested revival. When the aforementioned trio of episodes proved me wrong, another episode written by Carter, Babylon, came – and again, it disappointed me because, like in the previous case, it worked in its details (the bond of the main duo, allusions, jokes on the edge of parody), but as a whole, it was chewing on a desperately uninteresting story. That's why the boulder that fell off my heart after the final My Struggle II was as heavy as the largest meteorite. Right there, finally, someone-you-know-who reveals a glimpse of their eternal plans, right there, more close encounters threaten, and I am genuinely concerned about the fate of the legendary heroes. At the very end, I'm not angry that the six-part nostalgia, originally intended as a final tribute, ends up being a regular series that will likely have a continuation. I'm not angry because the moods during the viewing experience haven't changed much over the years, and they fit into the series without any problems. I am genuinely moved by Gillian Anderson's performance, which unexpectedly overshadows even the otherwise perfect David Duchovny. While he plays Mulder as someone who has been beaten up, whose blind faith and destructive skepticism have already taken their toll, Scully's role as a regretful, insecure, and hopeful woman until the very end is quite tough, and as the episodes progress, it becomes clearer that some roles simply cannot be dropped. And I want to believe that this is just the beginning of something bigger. (25.02.2016) (vähemmän) (lisää)

For so long, I believed. Several times I have read the opinion that the whiniest fandom is Star Wars. "True" lovers of the original trilogy consider the prequels too romantic, one sequel too similar, another too different – and this makes them somewhat laughable. I agree with that, with one exception. They only come in second in whining. The true crybabies are the orthodox fans of The X Files, who probably demanded the continuation just so they could constantly complain about it. Because no matter the episode, it deserves to be erased. One learns that funny episodes too often devalue the series' legacy, dark ones do not fit in the present, mythological storylines no longer interest anyone, memories of old plotlines bother new or forgetful viewers, modern elements seem ridiculous, and no matter what the original idea is, it always turns into any possible outcome. And unsurprisingly, Chris Carter himself caught the first wave of criticism. Sure, it was a decent challenge to introduce such a major twist right in the first episode, but to blame the show's creator for destroying it was a bit too much for my taste. This is his work and no matter what he does, it is just his development, not destruction. Not to mention that we already received blows to the head from him in the original series, when more than once he left me in shock or tears with his revelations. He's just playing with the audience until the end, like few creators do, and not everyone has the stomach for it. Of course, this does not change the fact that My Struggle is a fitting name for both (including the previous season) of these episodes. Carter is struggling with the new mythology, every line or twist draws blood, and it shows how much he is now working hard on it. Maybe that's why I like him even more and I would easily include the finale of the whole series (?) among my favorite episodes ever. But other artists hit the nail on the head as well. The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat is a perfectly self-aware tribute in a mischievous spirit, which only the truly invested heart appreciates, Kitten reminds us of Skinner's focused gems Avatar and Zero Sum. Nothing Lasts Forever brings back memories of the ninth season, specifically the moment when the last episodic storyline (in the case of Sunshine Days) focused on an individual who constantly watches TV and adjusts his surrounding world according to it – and despite the bloody harshness (which, in fact, is the aspect that I like the least about the show), it earns points in a big way thanks to its sufficient care for the main characters. And finally, the almost detached appetizer with the blatantly trolling title Rm9sbG93ZXJz, which best demonstrates the shift that the series has undergone over the past quarter of a century. In the beginning, even the then-current case of troublesome technologies in Ghost in the Machine seemed funny, while now this dialogue-driven thriller is not lacking in frostiness, relevance, black humor, or irony – and by the way, it easily competes with the famous Black Mirror. Surprisingly often and surprisingly strongly, however, I feel nostalgia from the season as a whole. All those who could write individual contributions this year are calmer, more thoughtful, they know more compared to the tenth season, they know what they can afford because this time the break was only two years, not more than a decade. But above all, there is a sense of acceptance of the end coming from everyone. They were given a chance that many TV shows do not get – to end it once again, to fix what they felt was unfinished in the original ending. And I can feel all the emotions that they could experience while writing, not just in the last ten minutes, which, in the spirit of a giant ancient tragedy, bring storylines that have been hanging in the wind for twenty years to a close. (18.04.2018) (vähemmän) (lisää)