First aired: September 10th, 1993
“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”- Fox Mulder
We open in the woods. A young lady in a white dressing gown is running frantically through the autumn leaves, clearly afraid of something. She trips and falls. A blinding white light suddenly bursts through the canopy of trees. A dark, silhouetted figure emerges from the light and walks purposefully towards the girl. Is it human? Alien? A monster? Perhaps just a hallucination? The figure reaches the girl, envelops her and the light intensifies into a blinding flash of white. Cut to the next morning. The girl is dead. Police officers are looking down on the corpse, confused. There’s seemingly no motive, no suspects, no leads. Only one, bizarre detail stands out. The dead girl has two strange marks on her lower back.
This opening scene tells us everything we need to know about the world of The X-Files before we’re given any context or even introduced to any of the lead characters. It embodies all the aesthetic elements that helped craft this show into one of the most-watched television dramas of the 1990s; a dark, ominous forest hiding all manner of strange happenings from the outside world, an innocent victim thrust into a nightmarish reality most of us never get to see and an unexplained event that disappears almost as soon as it begins, a brief, strange interlude intruding onto the normalcy of the world. The X-Files arrived at just the right time, tapping into the cultural zeitgeist of the early 1990s, a post-Cold War world where more and more Americans believed in something hidden beyond the fabric of society. UFOs had been visiting the Earth for decades. Alien abductions had occurred. Numerous urban legends of strange creatures, mutants, ghosts and paranormal phenomena were true. Even worse, the government had known all along and covered it up. Not for our protection but to keep us docile, unaware, until the time when they could establish total control. These were the beliefs of the time that found their home in The X-Files. It was a show about truth and how difficult, convoluted and dangerous it was to uncover. Yet it was at the same time an optimistic story; through the adventures of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, it was easy to believe that there were forces fighting back against the deceits and lies that permeated America. The teasingly platonic chemistry between the pair also underscored something arguably more valuable than truth; companionship, trust, love and loyalty. Only by working together could Mulder and Scully brave the advances of the abnormal and fight for truth to reassert itself. It’s little wonder that the pair, and the show, became so iconic. By the end of its regular run in 2002, The X-Files had been transformed into a cultural phenomenon that eclipsed its cult origins. The unexplained had been plucked from the shadows and into mainstream popularity. The viewing audience on that September evening in 1993 knew none of this. When they tuned in to see Mulder and Scully tackle the unknown dead woman with the mysterious marks as their first case, their eyes were well and truly opened.
The establishment of Mulder and Scully’s partnership is arguably the driving force of this pilot episode, and it’s a credit to the writing and direction at play here that our introduction to the pair flows so effortlessly. It would have been easy, perhaps, to overstate that first meeting in Mulder’s office, to hammer home the contrasts between the duo. Instead, we get a muted introduction but one tinged with layers of subtext that tell us far more about the nuances driving these characters. Scully, in her introduction scenes with her FBI superiors, is clinical and professional; she walks through the offices of the FBI, a grey, sterile environment, her superiors are matter-of-fact, detached, concerned with giving Scully the basic details of her assignments and nothing else (although the presence of a certain cigarette-smoking gentleman at the back of the room adds a sinister element to the otherwise professional atmosphere). Once Scully steps into Mulder’s office, the dynamic changes; Mulder is snarky but enthusiastic, cynical but affable, simultaneously the outsider but also far more relatable amidst the personalised home of mystery that comprises his office. It’s telling that, despite Scully’s (and, by extension, our) scepticism, by the end of this introduction Mulder has successfully pulled her into his world.
He gushes with excitement at the mystery of the dead college graduates with the strange marks, enthusiastically adhering to his belief that extra-terrestrial involvement is the primary cause. Scully argues against the idea, mirroring Mulder’s convictions with her own anchor in the world of rationality. By the end of the scene, however, Scully cannot help but smile at Mulder’s passion and excitement. They may not be fully on the same page but she has already found herself drawn into his world. As character introductions go, it’s to-the-point, iconic and illustrates the dynamic we will be following for a long time.
Scully’s function as an audience surrogate allows the various conflicting dynamics that surround Mulder and the world he inhabits to become clearer. In keeping with his more offbeat characterisation, Mulder reacts to the unfolding events of the episode not with fear but with a mixture of excitement and wonderment. For example, the ‘missing time’ sequence clearly unnerves Scully whereas Mulder whoops in delight at the rainy night sky. Similarly, the show’s first autopsy scene, a common staple going forward on this show, further deconstructs the clichéd procedural-type format through Mulder’s behaviour. Scully is the consummate professional, staring at Ray Soames’ corpse without emotion and reeling off the necessary facts. Mulder in contrast dances around the table, photographing the strange features of the corpse and excitedly postulating theory after theory without pausing for breath. The pilot therefore seemingly positions Mulder further and further away from the traditional straight male protagonist commonly found in science-fiction narratives.
Cleverly, however, the pilot subverts this in the scene where Mulder, staying the night with Scully in a motel cloaked in darkness, opens up about the night his sister Samantha was supposedly abducted by aliens when he was a young boy. It’s a gripping scene that’s both atmospheric and genuinely unsettling as Mulder explains how his search for the truth is driven by the need to find her, as well as his suspicions that the government is hiding the existence of aliens from the outside world. It’s the first time we see a more vulnerable side to Mulder, a realisation that, beneath all the off-beat humour and bravado, he is still the same scared little boy, searching desperately for his sister in the fog, still afraid of the little green men who can enter your room at night. The scene not only strips Mulder bare emotionally, it also highlights his rapidly-growing trust in Scully. The scene’s intimate, confessional nature evolves the duo’s relationship further in a natural, understated way. By the episode’s conclusion, we firmly believe in this partnership, that despite the duo’s clashing ideologies a true bond has been created amidst the desire for truth and resolution.
Another interesting facet about the pilot concerns its approach to the extra-terrestrial presence hinted at throughout the plot. In keeping with the capacity for pilots to acclimatise audiences to the type of show they can expect to see, what we are presented with here is an amalgamation of various pieces of UFO lore. These include the phenomenon of missing time, the phenomena of alien experimentation (represented by the plight of the college graduates and Billy Miles’ trance-like, robotic state as he carries out the killings) and alien implants, via two very chilling scenes in which Peggy O’Dell and Theresa Nenman, two of the unfortunate students, begin bleeding heavily from the nose. Rather than narrow the episode’s focus towards a particular aspect of the unexplained, the focus on these different strands of UFO and alien abduction narratives serves as another introduction of the endless mystery of Mulder’s world. The alien presence here is alluded to vaguely, never given physical shape to the viewer, yet the implications are frightening and add to the intriguing atmosphere which the pilot conveys.
Additionally, the pilot also introduces another foundational storytelling device that underlines the world of The X-Files: conspiracy. There are tantalising glimpses of the latter in regards to the government’s role in the pilot. Scully’s briefing scene, as I mentioned earlier, is dripping with implied menace and tension courtesy of the older men in black suits, as is the episode’s final shot of the Smoking Man in that large, ominous storage room (which is clearly in itself a homage to the warehouse scene at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark).
Like the alien subplot, we are given hints and inferences that a conspiracy is there but for now the show keeps it understated, tangential, on the fringes of the duo’s lives yet still cloaked in shadows. More prominently, the pilot focuses on a different example- the small-scale conspiracy. During their investigation, Mulder and Scully realise that the town’s resident pathologist, Dr. Nenman, and Sherriff Miles are aware of the significance of the killings and Billy Miles’ identity as the perpetrator. There are some well-staged tense scenes in relation to this, such as Sherriff Miles’ confrontation with Mulder and Scully in the woods at night. Bathed in the light emanating from his squad car, shotgun in hand as he threatens the two agents to leave, it really does seem as if he would kill to protect his son and his community. One of the few downsides to the pilot is how most of the side-characters seem under-developed, hurriedly-sketched archetypes that function as a means to fill narrative devices in the plot. It’s a consequence of a pilot’s need to introduce its lead characters and focus more time on setting up the world of the show. However, the deft little touches of underlying humanity and motivation to characters such as the Sherriff enhance the pilot’s theme of being thrust unexpectedly into a world where laws and morality seem like a long way away. It’s significant that both Dr. Nemnan and the Sherriff reject Mulder and Scully’s FBI authority, refusing to be cowed by the threat of governmental and legal consequences. It highlights that the encroachment of the unexplained leaves man-made notions of authority meaningless. The typical plot device of authority found in most procedural dramas is stripped away, another example of how The X-Files firmly but subtly overrides typical genre conventions to add to the tension and dread of its stories.
Even the episode’s denouement leaves very few reassurances. While Mulder and Scully confirm that Billy Miles is the killer and the latter finally snaps out of his trance-like state, the pilot again shies away from a neat and tidy resolution. Miles undergoes hypnosis and continues to relate the tale of his abduction and experimentation but it’s clear no-one believes him. Mulder’s report on the case goes missing and the only surviving piece of episode, the implant, is stored away by the Smoking Man amidst a sea of classified objects. The final scene has a concerned Mulder call Scully in the middle of the night, insisting they must talk. It’s a bleak, uncertain ending to the pilot, one that emphasises the monolithic nature of the conspiracy they face but more importantly illustrates that the only person the duo can trust is each other. Mulder and Scully are the only constants that give the other an anchor point to reality, a small semblance of comfort. The partnership is formed, the enemy established, the unexplained revealed, ready for investigation. The truth is out there…
Case notes:
–The X-Files owes a lot of its narratives, tone and thematic structure to the fringe beliefs in vogue at the time. Chris Carter, the lead writer and creator of the series, had read a survey which stated that nearly four million American citizens believed in, or thought they had experienced, alien abduction. This inspired the backdrop to this episode and the series’ ever-growing mythology, which came to encompass nearly every extraterrestrial conspiracy and urban legend in existence. Carter added the government conspiracy factor into the show due to his memories of the notorious Watergate Scandal of the 1970s, which fostered a great deal of mistrust and resentment towards the U.S. administration
-Carter also drew in various cultural influences that shaped the tone and voice of the show. The ‘investigation’ angle that forms the context for each episode was based primarily on Carter’s fondness for the 1970s cult series Kolchak: The Night Stalker. It starred Darren McGavin (who guest-starred on The X-Files at a later date) as the eponymous Kolchak, an investigative reporter who repeatedly stumbled upon bizarre cases that inevitably had supernatural elements. The show was short-lived, running from September 1974 to March 1975, but it left an impression on the cult television landscape.
Darren McGavin as Carl Kolchak
To avoid straining credibility by having Mulder and Scully randomly discover cases, Carter made the two leads FBI agents and created the X-Files unit to establish a reason as to their knowledge of events. Other inspirations, according to Carter, include shows such as the original incarnation of The Twilight Zone (1959-1964) and the ground-breaking UK crime drama Prime Suspect (1990-2006).
-The names of the two leads also have their own unique origins. Fox Mulder’s name is the combination of a childhood friend of Carter’s and the maiden name of his mother, Dana Scully shares a surname with Vin Scully, a well-known baseball commentator of the time, and Frank Scully, an American journalist who wrote an infamous book in 1950 called Behind the Flying Saucers that contributed to the emerging UFO lore taking shape back then. Scully’s characterisation as a strong-willed, intelligent FBI agent was inspired in part by the character of Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs (1991).
Jodie Foster as Clarice Starling
Finally, the platonic chemistry that both Mulder and Scully shared, with only vague hints of romantic interest throughout most of the show’s run, has its roots in the interactions between John Steed and his various female assistants from the cult television classic The Avengers (1961-1969).
Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg as John Steed and Emma Peel
Although fans eagerly clamoured for Mulder and Scully to become involved, Carter remained reluctant as he believed this would detract from the show’s narrative. For this reason, Scully’s boyfriend, who appeared in a few scenes at the demand of network executives, was cut from the pilot as Carter found the relationship did nothing to enhance the character or the story.
-Let’s take a moment to appreciate Mark Snow’s music score. The iconic theme tune and title sequence wouldn’t début until the next episode but the soundtrack to the pilot just adds to the eerie tone throughout. The use of synthesisers and those brief, mournful piano interludes are especially effective at giving viewers the chills (especially during the ‘missing time’ and nosebleed sequences). It reminds me of one of those UFO documentaries you could find back in the ‘90s while you were channel-hopping late at night. With the lights out and this type of music blaring, you’d swear there was an alien peering through your window.
-This is the only episode of The X-Files to open with a disclaimer, stating that the episode’s plot is based on real-life accounts and testimony. Whilst the main plot thread of the murdered college students is fictional, the pilot does draw on strands of UFO lore that have become commonplace e.g. the ‘missing time’, implants, abduction memories. In that regard, the disclaimer is technically accurate but it was added as a means to establish an air of credibility to the show’s premise and add to the foreboding tone of the plot. The disclaimers did not appear again after the pilot.
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