Lieutenant Brian Tillman – played by everyone’s favorite psychopathic stepfather Terry O’Quinn -- is investigating a murder in Aubrey, Missouri. The killer carved “sister” onto the victim’s chest and wrote it on the wall in blood. Detective B.J. Morrow has more important things on her mind, namely the fact that Tillman, her married boss, knocked her up. They arrange to meet at a motel to talk about it, but B.J. experiences visions of an old murder. She ends up in an empty field digging up the bones of an FBI agent named Sam Chaney, who disappeared in 1942 with his partner, Agent Leadbetter. At the time, Agents Chaney and Leadbetter were using psychology to investigate stranger danger – I mean serial killings.
Dana thinks B.J. is suffering from cryptomesia, meaning she subconsciously forgot she had related memories. Since B.J.’s father was also a cop, Scully believes he discussed the Slash Killer’s investigation in front of her at some point. Tillman joins the party when he realizes the crime scene photos from 1942 match his crime scene from three days ago. Then another recent slash victim is located and B.J. realizes she dreamed about her too. See how good the setup was for this episode?
Morrow is looking through mugshots from the '40s while Tillman tries to convince her to abort their baby. Yep, he’s a keeper all right. Then B.J. runs across photos of the man of her dreams, Harry Cokely, who lives in Gainesville, Nebraska. He served 48 years for the rape and attempted murder of Linda Thibedeaux. Sculder interview the 77-year-old, who is physically not able to perform the recent murders. This is starting to feel like last week’s episode, "Excelsis Dei." Cokely even uses the same defense. The continuity police should have had Mulder make a throwaway reference to the old guys in the nursing home. Even Scully dismisses the possibility fairly quickly. But Cokely still has a creepy vibe, especially when he continuously calls Dana “little sister.”Meanwhile, B.J. is having another nightmare. She wakes up covered in blood, but it looks like it’s hers. The word “sister” is carved onto her chest. Half-crazed, she ends up in a stranger’s basement and starts tearing up the floorboards. Tillman and Sculder arrive to retrieve B.J., who claims she was attacked by young Cokely. Mulder continues digging and finds the bones of Agent Leadbetter. Old Cokely is brought in for questioning, but it doesn’t go very far.
Scully eventually gets test results that connect Cokely to the attack, but they’re from 1994, so let’s put a pin in that for now. Sculder visit Linda Thibedeaux in Edmond, Nebraska and learn B.J. was seeing images from inside Linda’s house. Linda tells the agents about the trial and Cokely’s defense -- his father brutally punished him instead of the five sisters. Mulder realizes Linda became pregnant after being raped by Cokely and gave the baby boy up for adoption because she couldn’t live with the reminder. So why didn’t she move too? Scully learns Cokely once rented the house where they found Agent Leadbetter’s bones. Crime Scene also found a straight razor that matches the description of the weapon Cokely used in his crimes. Dana determines Linda’s son is Raymond Morrow, B.J.’s father. It’s all starting to makes sense, right? B.J. is committing the murders because she’s become Cokely. This is understandable in an X-Files universe kind of way. Here is where everything goes sideways. Knowing where Missouri and Nebraska are on the map, I’d love to have the geographical logistics explained to me in a way that makes sense. Aubrey, Edmond, Gainesville and Terrence aren’t real towns in these states, so the only frame of reference given is that Terrence was approximately one hour from Aubrey.
By the time Sculder finally get there, B.J. is gone, but she didn’t kill Linda after all. Maybe part of B.J. is still in control. Fox uses the phone to call for paramedics – so he can’t claim he didn’t call because Linda didn’t have a phone. Scully thinks B.J.’s next victim is Tillman, but Mulder’s convinced she’s going after Cokely, so Fox uses Linda’s phone to warn Cokely. Yeah, you read that right. The lifelong victim can’t get a simple heads-up from the good guys, but the remorseless convict gets a warning. In his “defense,” Mulder didn’t send local police there, either. Fox drives over to Cokely’s place in Gainesville, Nebraska. Not sure exactly how far Gainesville is supposed to be from Edmond, but Dana manages to take Linda with her back to the Aubrey Police Department to give a statement, pick up Tillman, then meet Mulder at Cokely’s place shortly after her partner finally arrives there. Maybe Fox stopped for more sunflower seeds on the way to Cokely’s place.
In the epilogue, we learn B.J. has been incarcerated in a women’s prison and tried to abort her baby boy. Tillman makes arrangements to adopt his own son after he is born. Guess that’s one way to avoid 18 years of baby mama drama.
Sestra Professional:
Some strong and pertinent commentary from Sestra Am this week, and she is totally on the money. "Aubrey" sets up very strongly and then the show dilutes its good work and sharp guest performances with a WTF denouement. Maybe that's why this episode always seems to fly underneath the fans' radar.
While Charno got credit after delivering a story about 50-year-old murders and genetic memory, in The X-Files official episode guide, it's said producers Glen Morgan and James Wong had a big hand in the final script and particularly the fourth act -- the one in which everything falls apart. I kind of wish I could at least see what Charno's wrapup was originally slated to be. It couldn't have been much more disappointing than the sledgehammer, could it?But the atmosphere is indeed compelling and chilling from the get-go, in no small part due to director Rob Bowman -- one of the series' most dependable workhorses in only his third outing -- and Mark Snow music that deviates from the style we've become accustomed to and ratchets up the tension as a result.
I've always been intrigued by women named B.J.: The story's central figure draws us in completely. This woman has got a more messed-up life than Dana Scully, if that's possible. Yeah, she's a law enforcement figure who finds the bodies of agents who disappeared in 1942 without knowing how she did it. She's also living some seriously bad soap opera.
I do have a question about one of Mulder's hunches though. He says there's a pretty high probability of a carved letter on the FBI's bones being an "R." Wouldn't it be just as likely to be an "A"? Shoulda gone with the "E." I think I had the same question when this episode originally aired. Talk about an unsolved mystery.
Some people are late bloomers: This show keeps us guessing for a long time. Cokely's an invalid, but he's a really creepy one. As Sestra Am said, perhaps they should have made some kind of reference to last week's astral-projection mushrooms? Instead they jump right ahead to the genetics part of the equation, noting that traits can sometimes skip a generation.
And while we really get hung up at the end of this one, there are some interesting genetic theories bandied about and with more finesse than we've seen in recent episodes. Does Mulder like sunflower seeds because he's genetically disposed to liking them? And do I like sunflower seeds because my Mom was genetically disposed to liking them or because Fox implanted that in me subconsciously?
I wasn't quite as discombobulated by Sestra Am by the finish -- that must be why she didn't recognize Cokely's old movie as His Girl Friday -- but why does there always have to be a completely ridiculous Mulder theory? In discussing B.J.'s self-carving, he supposes it could have been "weird stigmata." You had me at she did it to herself, Fox, you lost me with that second guess.
No comments:
Post a Comment