The person who controls your son is the person who controls the future.

The X-Files

10: My Struggle IV

(SPOILERS) The title is definitely what it’s been, this four-part “epic” arc, easily taking its less than prestigious place as the series’ worst such (which is saying something). As these things go, My Struggle IV is the best of the quartet, by virtue, if you want to call it that, of it being a non-stop procession of fireworks.

CSM: I promised you a global contagion, Mr Skinner. I’m about to deliver on that promise.

Writer-director Chris Carter delivers in typical style, which is to say he’s all over the place in plot and visual form, sometime hitting his marks, more often veering wildly off target. Initiating proceedings is one of his patented lumpen monologues courtesy of Jackson Bandicamp/William, in which he attempts to make the events of Ghouli fit his unlikely behavioural ab-norms (referencing the “stupid joke on these two girls”). Subsequently, we see the deployment of a number of X-tropes, to varying effectiveness, such as Kirsch threatening to close the X-Files (yawn) and Mulder not being Mulder (that’s small potatoes, though, as it’s an obvious ploy but delivered reasonably effectively).

There’s a whole lot of killing here, as Mulder and Scully attempt to track down William. Not least when Mulder gets trigger happy on a hangar full of Mr Y’s goons, and Mr Y himself, and William going all Scanners (but with exploding body parts as well as heads) in a motel room, with Erika Price written out before she’s made her presence felt (bye, Babs). Such incidentals are quite entertaining.

Less so is the decision to dispose of Monica Reyes. Whatever your opinion of her presence in the tail end of the original show, nothing justifies the character’s appalling treatment in this return. Gish must be desperate for work (except she’s not), as I can see no other reason she’d agree to such a wretchedly under-served role.

William-Mulder: Would you shoot your own firstborn son?

CSM: I shot my own second born son once.

As for the other deaths… If only Carter would leave well enough alone. For a moment, I hoped he might actually go with a downbeat exit for Spender and Scully’s son, but of course, he can’t. And do I for a moment think he’s going to leave CSM dead? He couldn’t before, so a handy bulletproof vest ought to have done the trick (the proliferation of head shots in every death but his is surely testament to his desire to keep his options open, however feeble they may be). By the look of his floating away, he also possesses a pair of inflatable trousers (Edit: I see it's been suggested to Carter that half the episode is all another of Scully's dreams, which would be enormously lazy on his part and therefore highly feasible.)

Mulder: For so long I believed. What am I now if I’m not a father.

Scully: You are a father.

Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Another baby Mulder. Good grief. That’ll put the kibosh on worrying about the aging thing. At least, if there’s a Season 12, Scully will be off raising the sprog on her own. The thing is, despite the many issues afflicting My Struggle IV, it’s mostly passable as a sustained chase with lots of distracting bloodshed. You just have to not concentrate on all the egregious continuity and lazy attempts at manipulation. Season 11 then, has been cited by some as a return to form, but the truth is, it’s as patchy as its predecessor, only with a third as much again patchiness for good measure. It really is time to not just infuse the show with fresh blood, but also pension off the old hands.

The Season Ranked:

1. The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat

2. Familiar

3. Rm9sbG93ZXJz (Followers)

4. Kitten

5. My Struggle IV

6. This

7. Ghouli

8. Plus One

9. Nothing Lasts Forever

10. My Struggle III

Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.

Comments

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
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I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

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Shyamalan has seized on a horror staple – nubile teenage girls in peril, prey to a psychotic antagonist – and, no doubt with the best intentions, attempted to warp it. But, in so doing, he has dragged in themes and threads from other, more meritable fare, with the consequence that, in the end, the conflicting positions rather subvert his attempts at subversion…

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
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Whoever comes, I'll kill them. I'll kill them all.

John Wick: Chapter 2 (2017)
(SPOILERS) There’s no guessing he’s back. John Wick’s return is most definite and demonstrable, in a sequel that does what sequels ought in all the right ways, upping the ante while never losing sight of the ingredients that made the original so formidable. John Wick: Chapter 2 finds the minimalist, stripped-back vehicle and character of the first instalment furnished with an elaborate colour palette and even more idiosyncrasies around the fringes, rather like Mad Max in that sense, and director Chad Stahleski (this time without the collaboration of David Leitch, but to no discernible deficit) ensures the action is filled to overflowing, but with an even stronger narrative drive that makes the most of changes of gear, scenery and motivation.

The result is a giddily hilarious, edge-of-the-seat thrill ride (don’t believe The New York Times review: it is not “altogether more solemn” I can only guess Jeannette Catsoulis didn’t revisit the original in the interven…

I don’t think you will see President Pierce again.

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Can you float through the air when you smell a delicious pie?

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
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I don’t know if what is happening is fair, but it’s the only thing I can think of that’s close to justice.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017)
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Never compare me to the mayor in Jaws! Never!

Ghostbusters (2016)
(SPOILERS) Paul Feig is a better director than Ivan Reitman, or at very least he’s savvy enough to gather technicians around him who make his films look good, but that hasn’t helped make his Ghostbusters remake (or reboot) a better movie than the original, and that’s even with the original not even being that great a movie in the first place.

Along which lines, I’d lay no claims to the 1984 movie being some kind of auteurist gem, but it does make some capital from the polarising forces of Aykroyd’s ultra-geekiness on the subject of spooks and Murray’s “I’m just here for the asides” irreverence. In contrast, Feig’s picture is all about treating the subject as he does any other genre, be it cop, or spy, or romcom. There’s no great affection, merely a reliably professional approach, one minded to ensure that a generous quota of gags (on-topic not required) can be pumped out via abundant improv sessions.

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Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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