2.02 - The Host

Before we get to the cold open, let’s talk about how it seems like they got a new camera between Little Green Men and this episode. Maybe it’s just a better transfer on the Blu-ray I have, but this is the first episode that looks pretty great almost all the way through, with some exceptions toward the second half.

Two minutes and 40 seconds, great acting, good dialog, and an undoubtedly memorable visual. This cold open gives you a good hint at what you’re about to witness, which is one of the most memorable X-Files episodes of the entire season.

Mulder plays sunflower seed hockey while he withers in a smoky, dank hole, except it’s not one he chose so it ain’t fun or glamorous. He seems to still be hanging onto the ennui when he arrives at the investigation scene because he can barely muster the strength to show off his badge, which he normally holds up like a combination between a Catholic priest warding off Satan and a babbling conspiracy theorist with a “The End Is Nigh” sign.

He’s pouting, for sure. He won’t even look at the dead body in the sewer before he stomps off and tells the investigating agent to send the body to his stupid, stupid jerk-ass boss. This is followed by one of my favorite Mulder scenes. He insists on seeing Skinner, who is snotty right back atcha’ while Mulder slings shit from the doorway. Skinner says okie doke, hotshot, come on in. Mulder walks in and realizes there was a whole meeting going on, and a roomful of people heard him whining.

Also, I actually, legitimately hate Skinner, so kudos to Mitch Pileggi for bringing his asshole-ishness to life so well.

Throwing that Watergate-themed party even further, Mulder and Scully meet up on the banks of the Potomac, Washington Monument in the distance. Then Mulder makes a reference to getting reamed in his ass by the FBI.

Setting up the questionable story choices they make with Scully, Gillian Anderson is barely in this episode and when she is, she’s shot from the chest up, wearing a massive trench coat. And yet she’s a bright point in every scene she’s in, carrying the emotional weight because Mulder is so petulant.

The soundtrack to this episode is excellent, starting at the beginning when the cold open features some unsettling, slightly Russian-sounding chanting. Scully autopsies the first victim and the soundtrack elevates it to highly effective thriller status.

Also, the special effects in this episode showcase how successful the first season was, critically and, more importantly, monetarily. Yes, that dead body is real fucking gross and creepy, but the monster in this Monster of the Week really makes an impression.

Mulder throws a fit all the way to the doctor’s office and manages to look at his watch with the same energy every kid produces when they find out they have to brush their teeth before bed.

A cryptic call arrives for Mulder, our first hint that something new is going on in the realm of odd information being doled out. The caller says “You have a friend at the FBI,” then hangs up.

Later in the medical room after some info dump, Scully laughs, smiles, and tells Mulder it felt like old times there for a second when he indicates maybe the thing that killed this guy was a giant fluke worm. It’s a wonderful scene.

Back to the sewer worker who was attacked. He’s angrily brushing his teeth to get rid of the taste in his mouth and then spits out some disgusting bloody paste, followed by barfing up a fluke worm which I have decided is now one of the Top 5 worst things I’ve seen.

Mulder and the employees of this water treatment plant sure are as calm as possible when they come face to face with a fucking HUMAN-SIZED FLUKE WORM.

The Flukeman, as he’s known online, was played by Darin Morgan, who later ended up becoming a writer on the show. This is a great episode, a truly classic Monster of the Week that showcases how the formula can work very well. There are a good amount of emotional beats between Mulder and Scully, great investigation scenes, the hint of larger conspiracies, the subtle empathy from AD Skinner that makes me question my principled hatred of him. It’s the good stuff.