This episode does not attempt to truly fit into canonic form, abandoning staple X-Files enticements for want of something more. Its focus is entirely on creating the character of the mysterious "Cigarette Smoking Man" (CSM) who, until this point, had remained largely two- dimensional in the context of the show, appearing only as a menacing (though influential) background figure. So often characters such as these are given little or no development, and until this point there had been little exception in the case of CSM.
As such, it's both a break from (brilliant but) routine storyline, and a break from TV show tradition, for the X-Files to create something of this nature.
The mysterious past of CSM, including what made him the person he is today, is partially revealed through memories and flashbacks, which help us build up a personality of what previously had been a soulless individual. What we in fact discover is somewhat revolutionary. This is a man who does his work, but has not let it consume him so completely as we have been led to believe (and, indeed, is normally the case for similar supporting characters in other TV shows). He previously appears to have no remorse, emotion, or doubt; all a front, as is revealed here. It leaves you almost with a sense of pity, and even sympathy, with his plight - and for the series' chief antagonist, that's an amazing feat.
CSM carries out several of his more infamous tasks of the 20th century in this episode, which include the assassinations of Martin Luther King and JFK. He displays his ruthlessness and power. These actions are then contrasted with scenes of him handing out Christmas presents to his co-conspirators, or "colleagues" in this context, before going to his own, sparsely decorated apartment, completely alone, and wishing it were all different. We see snippets of him writing novels on his most cherished possession, an antiquated typewriter, as he pursues a burning, life-long ambition: to become a writer. Nothing more.
And finally, after years of constant rejection, and set close to the present day, we see CSM open a letter from yet another publisher to say they will be printing his work. His joy is without bound as he finally has hope once more. His transformation is so total that, on the morning of the publication, he types out his resignation from the Syndicate to which he belongs. Then on buying the magazine he finds that, once more, his talents and skills have been manipulated and abused by others. It may be a different context from his MiB duties, but the end result is the same. Demoralised and embittered, he tears up his letter of resignation.
CSM has been transformed in this episode. Perhaps it's unnecessary. There will always be those die-hard fans of Mulder/Scully who'll say, "but where were they in this episode?", and quite probably, they'll dismiss it with the same callous disregard as displayed by those people whom CSM works for, be it the Syndicate, or the publishers. We didn't NEED this episode. But with its inclusion, we are given something that only advances the series' artistic nature, its originality, and its willingness to create real, believable characters in all quarters.
In short, it's little short of amazing, and one can only hope future TV shows produced from this point will show as much respect and devotion to its characters, and their histories, as this one has.
As such, it's both a break from (brilliant but) routine storyline, and a break from TV show tradition, for the X-Files to create something of this nature.
The mysterious past of CSM, including what made him the person he is today, is partially revealed through memories and flashbacks, which help us build up a personality of what previously had been a soulless individual. What we in fact discover is somewhat revolutionary. This is a man who does his work, but has not let it consume him so completely as we have been led to believe (and, indeed, is normally the case for similar supporting characters in other TV shows). He previously appears to have no remorse, emotion, or doubt; all a front, as is revealed here. It leaves you almost with a sense of pity, and even sympathy, with his plight - and for the series' chief antagonist, that's an amazing feat.
CSM carries out several of his more infamous tasks of the 20th century in this episode, which include the assassinations of Martin Luther King and JFK. He displays his ruthlessness and power. These actions are then contrasted with scenes of him handing out Christmas presents to his co-conspirators, or "colleagues" in this context, before going to his own, sparsely decorated apartment, completely alone, and wishing it were all different. We see snippets of him writing novels on his most cherished possession, an antiquated typewriter, as he pursues a burning, life-long ambition: to become a writer. Nothing more.
And finally, after years of constant rejection, and set close to the present day, we see CSM open a letter from yet another publisher to say they will be printing his work. His joy is without bound as he finally has hope once more. His transformation is so total that, on the morning of the publication, he types out his resignation from the Syndicate to which he belongs. Then on buying the magazine he finds that, once more, his talents and skills have been manipulated and abused by others. It may be a different context from his MiB duties, but the end result is the same. Demoralised and embittered, he tears up his letter of resignation.
CSM has been transformed in this episode. Perhaps it's unnecessary. There will always be those die-hard fans of Mulder/Scully who'll say, "but where were they in this episode?", and quite probably, they'll dismiss it with the same callous disregard as displayed by those people whom CSM works for, be it the Syndicate, or the publishers. We didn't NEED this episode. But with its inclusion, we are given something that only advances the series' artistic nature, its originality, and its willingness to create real, believable characters in all quarters.
In short, it's little short of amazing, and one can only hope future TV shows produced from this point will show as much respect and devotion to its characters, and their histories, as this one has.