My Struggle IV

I approached the finale of the recent season of The X-Files with great hesitation. The season premiere had been quite possibly the worst episode of the series ever. Chris Carter seems like the kind of person to keep digging after hitting rock bottom. Gillian Anderson had been widely candid in the press that she was done with the series at this point; was it out of frustration with more total stupidity?

With expectations like that, I suppose there was nowhere to go up. So maybe it shouldn't be surprising that they actually did. The finale gathered up the ridiculous loose strands in a passible bundle, rocketed toward a real conclusion that gave rather definitive endings for all characters, and ended on a cheeky ellipsis more than on an actual cliffhanger. That'll do.

And now, anyone who ever loved The X-Files should hope that Gillian Anderson holds firm on not ever coming back for more. Chris Carter has said he won't do more without her. And there should never be any more. No movie, no episodes. Nothing.

Mind you, this wasn't an amazing ending. It wasn't on a level with the series finale that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. just delivered (that turned out not to be a series finale). But it was roughly as good as the original 2002 finale of The X-Files was. And given that the 16 episodes of the two revival seasons was only good for about 2 truly great episodes, maybe 2 pretty good ones, and a bunch of "filler at best, garbage at worst," I'll happily take "we got back to where we started" and go cash out at the window.

This "series finale 2.0" was more propulsive than the original. Instead of a wordy trial meant to walk us through an incomprehensible conspiracy, we got a simple mission: find William, Scully and Mulder*'s son. The clarity made for a swift hour, and in moments an appropriately emotional one.

* Not actually Mulder's son. Why again was this twist necessary?

On the other hand, the hour was often too swift. Blink and you'd miss the unceremonious killing off of Reyes and Skinner. Sure, the story isn't exactly about them... and yet both were "in the opening credits" cast members for part of the series' run. Don't they deserve better?

Back in the "plus" column, this felt like a much more compelling end for the Cigarette Smoking Man than his "first death" in the original finale. It was personal, in the form of a bullet from Mulder's gun. And it was swift payback for just moments earlier, when CSM thought the roles were reversed and he was killing Mulder. The setup also read like William was trying to sacrifice his life for a noble purpose -- I wasn't necessarily convinced that he knew he'd survive the gunshot. (And for the record, and did like the button at the end revealing that he had.)

But back in the "minus column," did we really need a repeat appearance from the wacko TV conspiracy theorist played by Joel McHale? Or yet another dressing down of Skinner from the permanently dour Assistant Director Kersh? Or the what-could-be 19th "closing down of the X-Files" by the Powers That Be?

I feel like the scales of good and bad here are almost close to balanced. Maybe a little in favor of good. Add to that that the show actually did give us closure, something that was by no means certain, and I'm inclined to be a bit generous to in grading the episode. B? Well, okay, not that generous. B-.

But more than feeling generous, I'm feeling done. So long, X-Files.