The X-Files: “Monday” and the Everyday Hell of Abusive Relationships

Art by Jared Adams

“I don’t think she was an accomplice. I think she was just trying to get away.”

These words, spoken by Mulder at the end of the episode “Monday” perfectly encapsulate the fear and danger in trying to leave an abusive relationship. She was just trying to get away. Only you can get out, no one can do it for you. No one can save you. You might die trying to get away, but even that is preferable to perpetual hell.

We know that the woman named Pam represents every woman. We only hear her name once. This could be done intentionally to both signify how she could be any woman, every woman, but also to show that these women aren’t just statistics and victims, but whole people with unique identities. She’s not just some woman. She’s Pam. It lends weight to everything that will happen after. She has a name, people and things she loves, a life, favorite foods, favorite movies, favorite books, dreams and goals.

But any woman (one just like Pam) can find herself in an abusive relationship. Smart women. Strong women. Because gas lighters are smart too. At least when it comes to this. Emotional manipulation is what they’re best at, and there’s usually no indication you’re in an abusive relationship until it’s too late. Using an amalgamation of countless real life stories, we can infer that Bernard probably started out sweet, telling Pam she’s beautiful and perfect and the only girl he’s ever felt this way about, that she deserves the best, and shouldn’t have to work. So he’ll work (as a janitor) so she doesn’t have to. It sounds very romantic and appealing until you realize that he’ll have her right where he wants her-with no financial independence of her own and no way to leave him once he starts showing his true nature.

But this is all just speculation right? We don’t know it’s an abusive relationship. The X-Files has always been subtle but profound. They don’t come right out and blatantly say anything. But we do have one important clue. So like Mulder and Scully we take what little evidence we have and run with it. We know this woman is living the same day over and over and has tried everything possible to stop the explosive ending from happening again. She drugs Bernard; it doesn’t work. She hides his keys; it doesn’t work. She even calls the cops on him herself. But like she says “he always gets here.” And she’s always there with him. There’s nothing she can do to change her circumstances.

When Bernard asks her why she’s always in a mood she replies “because nothing ever changes.” On the surface this is obviously directed at the “deja vu” of the repeating day. But beneath the surface it’s a commentary on the stagnant nature of being trapped in an abusive relationship. Often, the abusive party will apologize for their behavior and swear it’ll never happen again. Inevitably it always does. The only possible outcomes are a woman finally putting her foot down and getting away, living out the rest of her days in Hell, or when her abuser accidentally or intentionally kills her.

I like this bit from the show because you’d think calling the police would be more than enough. Calling the police with a tip about a bank robber with a bomb headed for a specific bank should be enough to stop Bernard, but for whatever reason, it isn’t. Going to the police for help if you are in an abusive relationship should get you out of it, but it often doesn’t. How many news stories include the details of a woman going to the police, filing a restraining order against her abuser and basically doing everything she’s “supposed” to do–“the right thing”–in order to save herself. But often abusers are controlling and possessive. They try to control where you go, who you can and can’t talk to, even how much money you have. When they lose control, the fear of no longer being able to possess the person they want can send them onto a violent and destructive path. But before that happens, they will do everything in their power to maintain that control. They’ll violate restraining orders, stalk, break into houses, whatever they need to do to try to talk the person into taking them back. The particular news story I’m thinking of ended with the woman dead after just such a series of events. She tried to get away, and he killed her. A final act of ultimate control. If I can’t have you, you aren’t going to be with anyone else. If I can’t control your existence, then you’re not going to exist.

But back to the main clue the woman is in an abusive relationship. One of the things she tries in order to change her circumstances is to tell Bernard “I’m not going with you.” He replies “Look, I’m not asking.” This is what abusive relationships are like. You don’t get to decide for yourself how you will live. You are told what to do. And you do it, or else. Frequently watching his episode I asked myself why doesn’t she stick to her guns? Why doesn’t she refuse to go with him? Probably because whenever she tried to say no, she got beaten. She’s afraid. You can see it in her face, her eyes and the bags beneath them, her stance. You can hear it in her voice. She is truly in hell. And there’s only one way out.

At the end of the episode Pam finally realizes what variable needs to change in the events of that Monday. She needs to be the one in the bank, not out in the car. She needs to be the one to get hurt. Bernard is responsible for killing her (accidentally), all the while claiming he was doing this for her. But as is the misplaced feeling of most abusers, that’s not really love. No freedom. No peace. That’s not a loving environment. Money won’t make her happy. Pam actually looks relieved as she lies on the floor of the bank bleeding out.

“This never happened before,” she says with the same optimism she exhibits whenever Mulder remembers something from the repeated day. Maybe this will do it. Maybe it’s finally, finally over. Maybe she’s finally free.

This is all juxtaposed with Mulder and Scully’s healthy relationship–one built on friendship, trust, independence, and mutual respect. Their banter with one another, even on a bad day, brings jokes, smiles, and conversations on fate versus free will. Scully volunteers to cover for Mulder and deposit his check for him, and (as always) they both try hard to save each other’s lives once inside the bank. We even see Scully cradling Mulder with gentle care, in stark contrast to the stiff and cold body language between Bernard and his girlfriend.

In this episode, Vince Gilligan and John Shiban cleverly show the hell, and all too often tragic ends that abusive relationships can meet.

“She was just trying to get away…”

The X-Files: Mulder and Scully’s Incomparable Chemistry

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Let me be clear about one thing right off the bat. As a lover of the English language I’m always searching for the exact right word to describe something, and I don’t use the word “incomparable” lightly. I use it because no relationship I’ve ever seen on television compares to how realistic and effortless the chemistry between David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson is on The X-Files. When they perform a scene together, there’s absolutely no sense of actors repeating lines from a script. It’s genuine. Viewers believe a real conversation is happening between two actual people who know each other as well as Mulder and Scully would.

Remember my post from a few weeks back about how Gillian Anderson was, superficially speaking,  the antithesis of what the show was looking for in a female lead? –> (Dana Scully) The reason she got the part anyway was because no one in the room could deny the lightning they’d trapped in a bottle when they saw the unprecedented chemistry between the two. Chemistry on T.V. is like Voice in fiction. It can’t be taught or forcefully applied, but when a writer taps into it, and it’s right, they’d be a fool not to run with it because it’s not something easily harnessed.

Don’t take my word for it; listen to what The X-Files team has to say on the subject:

That’s not to say that the hard part is over. Chemistry is one thing, but then it’s up to the writers to give the characters excellent dialogue, and not let that potential go to waste. Luckily, the show is as well-written as it is well-cast. Let these Mulder and Scullyisms courtesy of Snakey973 be your proof:

When Mulder and Scully interact it’s easy to believe the two have known each other well and for a long time. Viewers believe that they know each other personally as well as professionally, and not only spend much time together at work, but outside of it as well. They have the kind of back-and-forth that happy long-term couples have, where they can joke with each other and understand and appreciate the other’s sense of humor. Their use of sarcasm, the faces they make at one another, and the way they good-naturedly give each other a hard time are all characteristics of real relationships. You can always tell when two people aren’t comfortable around each other because they are being too polite. Mulder and Scully share an intimate comfort and speak to each other as I would to my closest friends.

I’ve seen shows like Stargate-SG-1 (Jack and Carter) and 12 Monkeys (Cole and Cassie) come close, but I still have yet to see a real competitor for The X-Files in the chemistry department. The stars seem to have aligned perfectly over this one creative endeavor, and fans are eternally grateful.

Jimmy McGill’s Colossal Wreck? Thoughts on the Season One Finale of Better Call Saul

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It’s no secret to regular readers that I’ve been this show’s most enthusiastic advocate, not for being well-written or providing well-developed characters, or keeping me in suspense–all of which it does–but for investing me emotionally in the journey of Jimmy McGill. I’ve loved every episode of Better Call Saul in this pilot season, but I have to say, I enjoyed last week’s show much more than this finale.

I just wasn’t buying Jimmy’s epiphany in the final minutes that seemed to come from nowhere. He didn’t hit rock bottom, he didn’t get desperate. Sure he got screwed by his brother, but Kim and his clients still believed in him. In fact, Jimmy had everywhere to go but down. He was excited when Kim called and told him about the job. He was on his way inside. Prestige, money, respect, proving his brother wrong, proving to himself that he is a good lawyer–he would have had all of these things.

I don’t care if as a writer, you want Jimmy to have an epiphany and literally walk in the opposite direction, but there has to be something in the story to support that decision, and something in his character that makes the audience say, “Yes, that’s the Saul we know from Breaking Bad.” As of now, I’m not sure why Jimmy is in that place. I can see that in the season finale, you might want Jimmy taking a step toward the dark side, but it seemed rushed, and forced.

In this episode, Jimmy returns to Chicago to find his old friend Marco literally sitting on the same bar stool where Jimmy left him a decade ago. During that time, Jimmy has of course graduated from law school while working in the mail room at HHM, developed a great relationship with Kim, and passed the bar exam. Jimmy and Marco have a fun week together scamming rubes, and then duty calls Jimmy back to New Mexico. Marco, however, calls this the “best week of his life” with his dying breath. Really? If this was the best week of your life, and these are your last words to Jimmy McGill, I’m thinking something has gone horribly wrong in your life.

And Jimmy is thinking….what? That’s the problem. Is he thinking “I gotta get me some of that amazing life that Marco described?” Why? For what reason? I’m not buying it. I need a reason. And I need a better one than Jimmy suddenly deciding that he and Mike should have taken the Kettlemans’ money. I’m disappointed. I was expecting more.

Remember during the final season of Breaking Bad, where they ran promos of Bryan Cranston reading Shelley’s “Ozymandias?” I’m getting chills just thinking about it. Essentially, these ads featured Walter White describing a “colossal wreck” where once stood a great king.

Where is Jimmy’s colossal wreck? Where is the great, insurmountable, depressing, fiasco that starts Jimmy on a downslide into Saul? We saw the beginnings of such a downfall when chuck betrayed him, but with so much still going so right in his life, what we saw last night cannot be it. So why, why didn’t Jimmy go into that meeting? What are your thoughts?

On a side note, Kudos to the writers for the Belize reference, and for the Kevin Costner scene. Both were nice touches for fans of Breaking Bad.

How Better Call Saul Surprised Me

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When I first learned there would be a Breaking Bad spinoff about Saul, I was mildly interested. Breaking Bad isn’t what I normally look for in a T.V. show, but if Vince Gilligan writes it, I’ll watch whatever. Breaking Bad turned out to be one of the best-written shows I’ve ever seen. Still I thought, there’s no way a spinoff could possibly live up to it. Why should I be emotionally invested in Saul, the sleezebag lawyer, like I was in say, Jessie Pinkman? Better Call Saul offers the “why” in abundance.

I expected to find humor in this show, good writing, drama, and suspense. I did not expect to become so emotionally invested in Jimmy McGill’s character that my heart breaks over and over every week, or that when Jimmy cries, I want to too. I like him more than I ever liked Walt over the course of Breaking Bad and it’s only been one short season.

Jimmy is so utterly and painfully human, you can’t help but love him. Here’s someone who’s been so beaten down while trying to change his flawed character and walk the straight and narrow, but who still tries to do the right thing. Yes, he gives into temptation, like he did with the Kettlemans’ bribe, but that was understandable. He couldn’t make ends meat being good, so he opted for making a lot of money by being a little bit bad. That part wasn’t surprising to me at all. What did shock me was that he gave the money back, turned the Kettlemans back over to Kim and HHM, and completely righted his moral misstep by taking $20,000 of his own will money to make the county whole again.

So in true Gilliganian fashion, we see rewards for bad behavior in this working world (a sad commentary on the working world, quite the opposite for his writing) and pain and poverty in return for doing the right thing. Jimmy does the right thing and loses his shiny new office, loses $20,000 and his dream desk, loses Kim whom he is still so obviously in love with (ow, there’s that pain in my heart again) but at least he’s done the right thing. The right thing leaves him crying in his would-be office–one of the most heart wrenching scenes I’ve ever witnessed.

Still, Jimmy is trying to be the good guy–the guy Chuck is proud of and a guy good enough to earn Kim’s affection. He works his ass off in the mail room at HHM where he receives no respect and Kim seems to be his only friend, and receives an online law degree and passes the bar. How can you not respect the hell out of that? Still he gets beaten down. HHM won’t hire him.

Well, we found out last night that the reason why is Chuck. It turns out Chuck isn’t proud of Jimmy at all, and doesn’t even consider him a “real” lawyer. When Jimmy finds out (and not because Chuck confessed, mind you) he is crushed, and so am I. Jimmy has been taking care of Chuck, bringing him everything he needs, checking up on him regularly, grounding himself, rescuing him from the hospital with so much genuine care it made my heart swell, defending Chuck’s claim that the condition is physical and not psychological, not committing him, not cashing out with HHM by becoming his legal guardian, and rooting Chuck to get back outside and back to work. In the beginning I saw two brothers with fundamental differences, who at the end of the day, were really there for each other. I am so disappointed. What a great show, that it can evoke all these emotions.

Mark my words, the difference between Jimmy being good, and Saul being bad is ultimately going to amount to the fact that Chuck doesn’t believe in his brother. You live up to people’s expectations of you (at least those you care about). When Jimmy thought Chuck was proud of him, and encouraging him, he was working hard and doing so well–going so far as to dive into dumpsters and reassemble shredded documents, pulling all nighters. Now that he knows how Chuck really feels about him, he will be what Chuck accused him of: Slippin’ Jimmy. Why not? That’s all he’ll ever get credit for. The pain…my God, the pain…

Speaking of emotions, I rarely ship characters outside of SciFi, but I just want Jimmy to apologize to Kim and kiss her. At first I thought she sold him out to be partner (I’ll make you partner if you get your friend to take the deal) But she didn’t do anything wrong. She stood up for him. I still have a bad feeling (but I really hope I’m wrong) that Kim is involved with Hamlin in more than just a professional way. If that happens, then Hamlin will have everything Jimmy wants, and Jimmy will have nothing and no reason not to become Saul. Kim never appears in Breaking Bad. Why? What happens to her? I really like her. There’s finally a cool female character in this world who doesn’t suck like Skylar, Jane, and Marie did. She too has me emotionally invested. Why does she stay with a firm that treats her like garbage, threatening to fire her, and moving her to a closet office? Way to show loyalty, Hamlin. I’ll tell you why: for the almighty dollar. She wants to be partner, and that means more to her than accepting Jimmy’s offer. They’d have less money, but they would have both been happy, respected, and really enjoyed their job together. She also might have rejected Jimmy’s offer (ow, the stabbing pain is back) because of my Kim/Hamlin theory. Again, I really hope not.

There’s only one episode left in this first season and I’m already bracing myself for the inevitability of Jimmy’s downfall into Saul. What do you think? Please share your thoughts below.