The X-FILES: The Post-Modern Prometheus Explained

There are films, characters, and TV series to which one can return endlessly, finding something different and unique each time, or sometimes simply seeking familiar sensations deeply embedded in memory. The X-Files, one of the best series ever created by the American television machine, frightened audiences for nine (11?) consecutive seasons with visions of a global conspiracy, monsters, and the creations of the distorted psyche of villains. However, over these nine years of its creation (excluding last 2 seasons), several episodes have emerged that stand out from the rest, still staying within the aesthetics of horror, thriller, and science fiction, yet in a way detached from the world of The X-Files. Sometimes serious, sometimes less so. Each would be worth a separate analysis, but there is one that stands out. Directed by the creator of the series, Chris Carter, it is a tribute to horror creators. At the same time, it reveals his sources of inspiration, a keen observer’s eye, and a talent for juggling references. In the very title – The Post-Modern Prometheus, as it is called – more passionate fans of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s writing will immediately notice a clear reference to her groundbreaking Frankenstein, whose full title is Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus.

This is not the last reference to the work of Percy Shelley’s wife. However, what is the central action in her novel, the perverted father-son relationship between Victor and his Creation, takes a backseat in Carter’s version. Here, the doctor challenging the Creator is Dr. Polidori. Incidentally, this character refers to the real-life doctor who, on the famous night in Villa Diodati by Lake Geneva in 1816, alongside Lord Byron (the most corrupt man in England) and the Shelley couple, tired of sexual excesses, decided to write a ghost story, which eventually gave birth to Frankenstein. In The X-Files universe, Dr. Polidori’s creation is not a crazed killing machine, though, like the original, it longs for love and warmth. But being monstrously deformed, it can only receive that from another like itself.

The story takes place in the late 20th century, so there is no room for desecrating cemeteries or morgues. No, Polidori has a far more refined tool for creation – genetics (the “divinity” of the doctor, gripped by scientific madness, is further emphasized by the way he is filmed – in many scenes, we see him from a frog’s perspective). With admirable erudition, Carter not only refers to the flagship representative of Gothic novels but also, just as importantly, refers to its first film adaptation, directed by James Whale in 1931, starring the famous Boris Karloff. And it does so very literally, not only drawing heavily on its aesthetics and specific scenes but also choosing a rather rare black-and-white stylization, which is seldom seen in television productions.

Frankenstein is the main, but certainly not the only, source of inspiration for Carter, who presents a captivating collage of his cinematic fascinations, clues, and winks at the intelligence of the audience. He fills the narrative skeleton of The Post-Modern Prometheus with bold references to other classic and often cult American films. Among them, we find The Mask by Peter Bogdanovich, the haunting The Elephant Man by David Lynch, and the misunderstood and rejected Edward Scissorhands by Tim Burton.

Carter plays along with the viewer, showing that a TV series can be both the source and result of fun, even on the small screen. Fun, because although the themes of the originals he borrowed from are not typically laugh-inducing, it is impossible to deny that they carry a first-rate, black sense of humor. The references that appear are not random. Could it be that each of the films mentioned tells the story of an outsider rejected by society, cast out by others because of their difference? And the recurring motif of father-son relationships in each of them? This begs for a separate interpretation.

However, the purely narrative layer in The Post-Modern Prometheus occasionally gives way to an equally important, if not more important, sociological observation, or rather its distorted reflection – a satire of American society. The warped mirror of irony reveals provincial America in a nutshell: staring at the TV screen, with tastes and opinions shaped by tabloids, under the rule of prejudice and xenophobia. Jerry Springer’s talk show is portrayed as an oracle, and an appearance on it is the pinnacle of one’s dreams.

However, someone would be mistaken if they thought that this is a malicious satire. Carter, drawing an unflattering picture of America, does so in a gentle and playful manner. He smiles and ponders over the imperfections rather than laughing mockingly from the heights of his intellectual superiority. Since the entire story has the structure of an allegory, it could not lack a twisted moral, one that is very fitting, as expected from The X-Files. Prejudice is condemned, and the xenophobic mob gets the opportunity to look at themselves more closely, revealing themselves to be the product of the same twisted demiurge who created the persecuted being.

Another, third layer that cannot be overlooked is the formal one. Here, another ambiguous device by the author is revealed, who, with the very title, points not only to the main source of inspiration but also to the form. The Post-Modern Prometheus is a story that is postmodern in both “spirit and body” from the first minute to the last. Postmodernism, a term that has been used in thousands of reviews in every possible way, associated with blending styles, building something new from well-known building blocks, and juggling genres, has been practically, deliberately, and even ostentatiously embodied in the form of this particular X-Files episode. The TV series – a product of the pop-culture brain-melting machine – becomes a mockery of itself, an auto-ironic tale symbolically bracketed by convention, which turns out to be… the cover of a comic book.

As you’ve probably already guessed, The Post-Modern Prometheus is not an ordinary episode of this extraordinary series. Carter, who rarely directed The X-Files, had been planning to film the story inspired by Frankenstein for several seasons. However, the topic eluded him until the point when the show’s scientific consultant informed him about a scientist who had isolated a gene that allowed manipulation of almost any physical trait in selected species of insects. This became the basis for Dr. Polidori, and Carter gained the narrative thread to film a story that had been following him for a long time. Originally, two American stars – Roseanne Barr and Cher – were supposed to appear in the episode, but due to scheduling conflicts, they were replaced by other actresses.

Carter’s fascination with Frankenstein led to seven Emmy nominations – the television equivalent of an Oscar (he ultimately won only one statuette) – and one juror, after the screening, turned to his colleague and asked, What was that guy smoking?! Whether he was smoking something or not, The Post-Modern Prometheus became one of the best, if not the best, episodes in the history of The X-Files.