Written by Vince Gilligan
Directed by Michelle MacLaren
In Season 7, when no one connected
with the X-Files knew whether or not the series had a future, the only writer
capable of turning out any goods at all was Vince Gilligan. Now, in Season 9,
with the X-Files, if anything, in even more dire straits, the series once again
turns to Gilligan. And not only does he deliver in a critical situation, he
actually gives the viewer hope that the series still has the potential for
greatness.
John Doe, like so many of
Gilligan's creations, is atypical from what we have seen before, and one of the
reasons it works as well as it does, is that it gives direction for Doggett. By
far the most outstanding creation of Season 8, so far this season, he seems to
be stuck being discordant. Now that Reyes and Scully have taken on the task of
believing, he now seems like a stick in the mud. Gilligan restores Doggett's
power in his typical fashion, by completely stripping of his identity. Doggett
has no memory of who he is, and is stuck in a town in Mexico ,
which seems to be completely owned by one of the major drug cartels. (Another
bit of research for Breaking Bad, perhaps?)
For the first act of the episode, there's no other regular onscreen but
Doggett, and we find ourselves learning about him as well as he does. Since we
don't know the real reason he comes down here until the episode is over, the
episode finds itself turning on who Doggett is. And what he is, is key to the
X-Files: alone in a town filled with criminals and outcasts, he's a man who is
looking for a truth. Of course, in typical series fashion, the
truth comes at great cost and is extremely painful. The only memory he has for
sure, what he clings to, is the memory of his son; what restores his memory is
the ultimate fact that his son is dead. We've seen hints of how much he buried
his pain on the occasions it came it up in Season 8; when he finally learns it
again, it is one of the most heartbreaking moments the series has done in quite
some time.
Robert Patrick gives one of his
best performances. As he tries desperately to piece together who he is, we find
ourselves realizing just how much of the X-File lexicon has followed this man
who doesn't believe in this kind of thing. Slowly putting together the pieces
of who he is, he gathers in bits and pieces of who he used to be, perhaps even
trying to find a way to give a hint to his partner who he doesn't remember. But
when he learns that he might be a killer, just like so much of how the series
works, he becomes one. By the time he finally encounters Reyes in the final
act, he has learned in true series fashion to trust no one. His first move on
the person he trusts most is to attack her. Special note should be given to Annabeth
Gish's performance as well. She's been playing so often to her mystical bend on
the series that this is the first time this season what a good investigator she
is, and how well she can maneuver through the system.
This is one of the more atypical
X-File outings. We split away from the action in giant subtitles indicated the
passage of time, something that is almost always kept deliberately vague in the
series. We find ourselves dealing with a genuine FBI investigation for almost
the entire episode. There's more fighting and procedure than were used to, and
the climax of the episode is an actual
siege on our heroes. None of this has ever been done, even up to this point, on
the series, and yet Gilligan and rookie director MacLaren manage to make it so
well, that when the supernatural actually does
make an appearance nearly forty minutes in, it almost comes as a shock.
For all its paranormal outings, the
series has done very little dealing with the archetypical vampire, and when it
deals with it here, with the old man who works with the cartel, its not the
kind that drains blood or even life from his victims, but rather their memories.
Vito Kazann does such a good job exuding villainy that we don't genuinely
suspect his true nature until he finally reveals it. And Gilligan emphasizes the dirt and grit of
this episode that we're almost wrong-footed when it finally comes about. Like
so many of Gilligan's villains, he actually thinks that he's doing nothing
truly bad, and when Doggett confronts him about what he has done, one can
almost wonder, given the amount of pain John has had to go through in this
episode when his memory finally returns to him, whether he might have been
better off. The final confrontation is right, because in a rarity for these
episodes, the police actually manage to do their jobs.
About the only real objection one
can raise about John Doe is how little it uses Scully and Skinner. Yet even
that seems purposeful rather than a sin of omission: this is an episode about
identity that would never worked nearly as well had it featured Mulder or
Scully as the protagonists. Gilligan has done more than we could ever have
expected of him. Not only has he given us a truly great episode, he's given us
a truly different one, something that
seems to illustrate the direction the series should be taking rather than
having it run in circles most of this season. It's a real triumph, and perhaps
all you need to say is that even when the series was at its peak, you would
still consider it a standout.
My score: 5 stars.
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