Brace yourselves, shippers. This is the one in which they slow dance to Cher’s cover of ‘Walking in Memphis.” Commence swooning as you deem necessary. Many good elements of “The Post-Modern Prometheus” are forgotten because of that final scene, but taken as a whole, the episode is one of the best of the series.
I am biased, of course. It is no secret I have some alienation issues stemming from disabilities, so I tend to empathize with characters suffering the same experiences. Not entirely unrelated, I am a fan of the Frankenstein mythology, both in its conflict between science and religion/existentialism and, again, the alienation that comes from being different. With The X-Files’ tradition of pitting Mulder and Scully in the midst of traditional horror movie themes and urban legends, it was only a matter of time before they ran into a Frankenstein monster.
Oddly enough, I am glad it happened during this era of the series. I think the series is great overall, but I have a particular fondness for its early, cult favorite days when it was dark and gritty. By this point, The X-Files has doubled its ratings thanks to word of mouth buzz over season finale cliffhangers and a post-super Bowl appearance in 1997. That same year, it attracted an Emmy win for Gillian Anderson and a golden globe fort her and the series. The show had hit the mainstream, and the powers that be made sure it stayed there.
The result was a more comedic, often less gritty feel. Sometimes that worked better than others. “The Post-Modern Prometheus” is a case of it working well. I do not believe the episode would have played out as well in the early days of the series. I have a hunch it would have been more gruesome and far less poignant. As it is, the episode strikes the right tone of homage to Frankenstein with cultural satire.
A woman from a small southern town is compelled to write to Mulder when she learns from a Jerry Springer guest who believed she was impregnated by a werewolf he is an expect in such strange matters. She claims she was impregnated by a monster while Cher’s “the Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine” played in the background. Sure enough, Mulder visits her, anyway. The woman is definitely pregnant, but the agents soon discover the creature she described as attacking her is a character in her son’s comic book he created about a local urban legend, The Amazing Mutato.
Ah, but then they discover The Amazing Mutato is real when the boy lures the creature out that night with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The creature gets away from them. An old man they encounter while giving chase assures them the only monster in town is his son, mad scientist Dr. Francis Pollidori. Pollidori is wonderfully played by John O’Hurley, who had gained popularity at the time by playing Elaine’s boss on Seinfeld. Jerry Springer, Cher, and Seinfeld. that amounts to pop culture overload.
Pollidori is working on mutating flies through genetic experiments. The fly was referred to as a ’bosko” something or another in reference to the famous bruhaha over George Costanza’s impossible to guess ATM password in a Seinfeld episode. I will bet you can log into all kinds of ATM and online accounts using bosko as a password these days. I regret not perusing that list of blown Gawker passwords a few months ago to see if bosko appeared. But anyway, Mulder suspects Pollidori is responsible for The Amazing Mutato. Scully does not think any ethical scientist would do such a thing. There is a world of difference turning flies into freaks than do so to humans.
Scully is only half right. Pollidori, Jr. did not create The Amazing Mutato, but his father did. The old Man grew to love the Mutato in spite of his deformities, but realized he would want female companionship at some point. So he set out to create the Mutato a mater. The agents quickly--and grossly--realize many of the townspeople were unknowingly products of crossbreeding experiments with farm animals. The Amazing Mutato wins the raging townspeople over when they come after him in the belief he has killed Old man Pollidori.. He is a gentle soul who only longs for someone to love him the way Cher loved her deformed son in Mask, which I have reviewed.
Pollidori, Jr. kills his old man in a rage when he learns his wife was impregnated, too. He is sent off to jail, but The Mutato, whom Mulder and Scully take pity on, gets to go to a Chert concert in Memphis. Everyone who wanted to get on Jerry Springer with their mutant kids does. Mulder and Scully dance. We are all happy now.
Well, everyone is happy but Cher. she refused to appear in the episode, but later expressed regret after seeing the episode. Too little, too late honey.
We are all happy because "The Post-Modern Prometheus” is an enjoyable episode. As a Frankenstein enthusiast, I appreciated the homage elements to the classic Universal film, which include filming in black and white, strange camera angles to make it appear Pollidori’s lab is an old castle 9Had to describe. You need to see it. The episode won an Emmy for art direction because of it and more.) and the torch weilding townsfolk who come after The Amazing Mutato. The story adds its post-modern elements of Jerry Springer and other pop culture references. The wild humor The X-Files has been adding lately is there, too. The episode is a combination of humor and poignancy that hit’s the mark perfectly.
Rating: **** (out of 5)
I do not like Cher's cover of "Walking in Memphis" nearly as much as Marc Cohn's original:
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