Welcome to season two of The X-Files: now with more angst, more nightmares, and more people who treat Scully and Mulder like the couple that they already are.
Never one to turn down a press event with exposed brick walls, lemon cake pops, and men in red sneakers, I spent Wednesday evening an advance screening of USA Network’s new drama Satisfaction. I knew exactly two things about the show beforehand, each of which came from its ‘YOUR AUNT WILL CALL THIS SHOW A GUILTY PLEASURE’ ad campaign: A man jumps into a pool in his suit, and a couple sleeps in a bed with expensive sheets. If you were drawn in by the mystery of what could possibly bring this man to ruin that nice suit, and if you thought it indicated some level of spontaneity in either the character or the show, it didn’t. It was just an ad campaign. If you were drawn in by the expensive sheets, you’re probably the target audience.
A summary of the end of season one: trust, dim lights, very close talking, 90s fashion, CAR SCENE, my emotional downfall.
Yesterday a number in the corner of my TV screen informed me that there are 202 episodes of The X-Files and I almost cried, partially because I’m so proud to live in a world that created 202 episodes of a show about sexy people catching aliens, partially because I never want it to end, and partially because I want to watch the whole series right now, all at once. Are there paying positions available for this sort of thing?
“I’ve traveled to all sorts of places, done things you couldn’t even imagine, but you two. Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that. Yes. I’ll try and save you.”
Billie Piper said at Gally this year that “Father’s Day” is her favorite, which just made me love it even more, if that’s possible. Rose’s trip back in time to meet her father is Doctor Who at its most personal, but also its most expansive, because the way this show views one ordinary life is the way it views all of them. Everyone matters. Rose doesn’t think that saving her dad’s life would change all that much, but growing up with him would change her, and she’s already saved the Doctor, who saves whole planets. This is why time travel is so complicated—the biggest moments in history depend on people who might never be remembered.
As of last week, I’ve officially started The X-Files. A friend told me recently that the show left her and her roommate curled up in the fetal position all evening, too sad to move, then followed that up with, “We’re going to make you start watching.” I only watch shows make people want to ruin other people’s lives. That same friend insists that she’s never spent more time yelling “MAKE OUT” at a TV screen, and I can already see why. I’ve been missing out on so much. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long. I’m here now, yelling at my TV with the rest of you. Let’s watch the definitive will-they-won’t-they crime-solvers not make out.