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It would be the same if Joss Whedon were to convene the gang for a is some dashing disappointment or demoralizing letdown.
But here we are, decades later, settled in like fond relatives, familiar with all of the show’s tropes and gambits, its Mytharc and occult symbology the lore ore of amateur and academic study, its opening theme strumming the chords of nostalgia.
The flesh and spirit—theirs, ours—hang heavier and there's no going back to the debutante ball.
Such new-dimension wonderment and discovery don’t come around twice.
Its original spell, its enveloping narcotic pull, was an unrecoverable, unrepeatable compound of the pre-9/11 jitters, Mark Snow’s machine-tooled whistling theme music, the often mist-hung, melancholic Vancouver locations, the inspired partnering of two contrasting characters played by two smart, attractive actors—David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson—who didn’t trail of heavy associations into their roles and evolved as the series evolved, a blessed conjunction of writing and directing talents steered by series creator Chris Carter’s vision.
resurrection mini-series with a look of amused stupefaction, not an easy look to master, even for someone who trained at Comedie Francaise, until they winkled out that I wasn’t officially “enrolled.” The online consensus, that cloudbank of congealment, was that the debut episode of Chris Carter’s reunion reboot, “My Struggle,” was a clanger of overexposition and -emoting (with this I concur); episode two, “Founder’s Mutation,” was an improvement (agree, but only by comparison, otherwise it was a routine churner); and the third, “Mulder and Scully Meet the Were-Monster” (a very Abbott & Costello title), the best thus far.Not just the best, but one that redeemed the revival series, a fun throwback to the glory days of FBI agents Mulder and Scully’s questing partnership, full of Easter eggs and fond echoes (Mulder’s credo “I want to believe” said with a plaintive lilt).