Out On Their Own
Well, there's talk of another season, but chances are
that after this
spring, The X-Files will survive only in syndicated
reruns and the
occasional big-budget movie. What are the X-Philes to
do for their weekly
dose of conspiracy-theory television after the final
episode of Chris
Carter's award-winning TV show airs? Well, the Fox
network's banking
most of them will tune in to the The X-Files'
spin-off, The Lone Gunmen, which premiered Sunday March 4 during Agents
Scully and Doggett's
regular airtime. (Expectations couldn't be made more
obvious than that.)
Fortunately for X-Files fans, The Lone Gunmen
moved to its
permanent timeslot on March 16, leaving its precursor
to finish the answer to
the series' most gut-wrenching mystery: What really
happened to Agent
Mulder?
While the mood of The X-Files grows more somber,
The Lone Gunmen
arrives on the scene with a much-needed dose of
lightheartedness. Not
only does the show preserve the wit and intrigue of
The X-Files, it also
maintains top-notch directing and writing, this time
layered with Marx
Brothers-like quirkiness. It rehashes the mood of
those humorous
X-Files episodes, such as "Rain King" or "The
Unnatural," which tend, as
The Lone Gunmen does, to poke fun at and push the
limits of its genre.
However, it's not quite clear into exactly which genre
The Lone Gunmen falls, which may wind up being either its
downfall or its crowning
achievement. Non-Files-fans may not tune in to watch
three oddball
characters whom they've never met, and those familiar
with the three
computer-savvy conspiracy theorists/journalists may
not enjoy the lack of
gravity. Nonetheless, The Lone Gunmen goes to the
trouble of
specifically not associating itself with The
X-Files.
No drop-by visit from Scully graces the first episodes
of The Lone Gunmen. Instead, each of the first three shows
introduces each of its
three financially struggling, paranoid characters.
"Pilot" brings the
show's premise and unofficial Gunmen head Byers (Bruce
Harwood) to the
forefront, combining elements of comedy, science
fiction, and espionage.
Byers, Langly (Dean Haglund), and Frohike (Tom
Braidwood) run an
underground alternative-press newspaper -- The Lone Gunman -- which focuses
on exposing conspiracies ranging from Kennedy's
assassination to the
Area 51 cover-up. The three are clearly not in it for
the money (since
they barely have any) but, as Byers repeatedly points
out, to fight for
people's freedom and right to know what is going on
around them.
While true believer and resident straight-man Byers
provides a
Mulder-esque idealism, the sarcastic Langly is the
resident hacker genius and
gruff, older Frohike an expert in surveillance. Unlike
Federal Agent Fox
Mulder, these guys, sitting penniless in a warehouse
laden with
powerful computers and espionage equipment, are true
subversives.
The subversiveness carries through in the show's form
as well, continuously undercutting it and our
expectations. The second episode, "Bond, Jimmy Bond,"
makes this clear as the show opens with the
middle-aged and
stocky Frohike bursting onto the scene of a
knife-wielding, Japanese eco-terrorist's kidnapping of
a corporate whale poacher. The scene becomes an
obvious parody of The Matrix as Frohike performs
impossible feats of flight and martial arts to
frighten away the apparently stupefied kidnapper from
the room, which happens to look awfully similar to the
backdrop of the now-classic sparring scene between Neo
and Morpheus. As
the viewer wonders whether Frohike somehow truly
possesses these talents or, as portrayed in The
Matrix, is hooked into some computer-generated
virtual-reality fantasy, the cameras pull back to
reveal a mini-set, arranged by the Gunmen in order to
discover the position of the poacher's whaling fleet,
complete with actors and special effects equipment
(Frohike is actually jumping around with the aid of
invisible wires
running to tracks in the ceiling, and the fellow
pretending to be the
terrorist has a good laugh sitting next to the other
two after shedding his
ruse). The joke's on us, and it's this sort of
self-aware, yet
slapstick, humor that The Lone Gunmen presents.
Later in the episode, as they
try to uncover some info about a legendary computer
hacker's murder,
they find the absurdly phony name "James Bond" behind
much of the
wrongdoing, and immediately arrive at the same
conclusion the audiences does:
it's a bodiless front. Wrong again, gentle viewer.
James Bond (Stephen
Snedden) is a real guy -- a very dim jock type who's
been duped into
thinking the charity money for his startup football
league for the blind
comes from a bona fide humanistic organization. The
sight of the overly
testosteroned, visually impaired players crashing into
themselves as
all-American Jimmy very, very slowly gets what's going
on, makes it clear
that The Lone Gunmen's target audience is definitely
not the
well-chiseled. Or even particularly the mainstream.
Heaven knows it's not PC to
make fun of the physically challenged, or even the
dim-witted...at
least, not on prime time network television.
Then again, this is Fox, and the once-upstart network
has made it a tradition to take chances by presenting shows that
fall outside the box of typicality and, too often with it, good taste. So far,
The Lone Gunmen has pulled off its extremeness with downright
good scripts and a very unique angle. The now-canceled, yet similarly
techno-oriented, investigative series, Freakylinks, failed precisely
because it lacked those components, at least in a formula as fresh and
intelligent as Byers, Langly, and Frohike bring to the screen. There's also
a wider range of characters in The Lone Gunmen -- in a near polar
opposite role to Snedder's unintelligent and clumsy character, Zuleikha
Robinson plays Yves Adela Harlow, the mysterious female spy who always has
and keeps her one-up on the trio, although she routinely teams up
with the Gunmen in order to help defeat the bad guys. Whether Yves is a
bad guy (gal, I should say) is still a mystery, and this already comes
through as an overarching storyline, one that could draw the vital
backbone of a regular viewer base.
The Lone Gunmen have appeared regularly on The X-Files, popping up as Mulder's informants at least three or four times per season since the first season's sixteenth episode ("E.B.E"). Regular viewers react to the three comrades' spontaneous arrivals with as much mirth as the Cigarette-Smoking Man's appearances generate loathing. That inherent connection to so strong a viewership could bring in much of the lost steam left in The X-Files's wake. It's doubtful such a well-crafted show can fail, but it has quite a looming shadow from which to break free. Even I cannot help but refer to it in terms of The X-Files, but many strong shows have spun from the set of another hit, such as The Jeffersons from All in the Family and Laverne and Shirley from Happy Days.
It's a tight wire The Lone Gunmen must walk, between full disavowal of its mother show and complete duplication of previously enacted themes and events. The self-parodic element of The Lone Gunmen is its strongest characteristic and one it must stick to in order to develop its own voice and audience. So far, it has yet to disappoint, and regular viewers of The X-Files may actually have something that would placate their thirst for a seditiously intelligent series. At the same time, non-fans won't have to worry about catching up on eight years of back story and may discover a show that could very easily turn out to be the best new series of the year. It's up to the Gunman now to continue to uncover the hidden evil lurking in the shadows of a political, technological world. As always, the truth is out there.