REVIEWED BY: Jennifer J. Chen ON: June 27, 1999
ORIGINAL AIR DATE: November 5, 1993
I find it exceedingly difficult to be objective about Ice. It was my favorite episode for a long, long time, so there is some sentimental value to be had there. Now that I've given that disclaimer, I will contend that no other episode contains quite the same level of sexual tension that Ice does. Yes, that is up to and including Season Six. No doubt many people would disagree. The idea that the eighth episode to air for a series with more than a hundred episodes, all fueled by the same dynamic between its male and female leads, contains the most sexual tension is undeniably incredible—doubtful, to say the least. But if one truly gives attention to the suggestion, without any prior bias as to chronological placement, I think many would come to the same conclusion.
This is not to say that Mulder and Scully's relationship has not progressed since Ice--I would never have the temerity to suggest such a thing (were I even of that particular mindset), nor is it to suggest that they have "cooled off" since their escapade in the Arctic. No—their relationship deepened, grew more intense, emotionally and spiritually. During the time period of Ice, their relationship was still very new—trust was still being earned. The scene where Mulder and Scully pull their guns on each other is fraught with explosive tension and violence—because we really do not know if one will actually shoot the other. Such a scenario would be hard to pull off in recent times; the things they have gone through and borne with each other since Ice have seen to their deeper understanding and trust of one another.
Of course, when this episode first aired, The X-Files was in its infancy; the viewers were learning about the characters as much as the characters were getting to know themselves and each other. It was a critical step in showing us how this dynamic was going to function; how we could expect these agents to behave in hostile situations in the future. It told us, essentially, how this relationship was going to proceed. At such an early stage in characterization, there were many avenues that the writers could have taken. Granted, Chris Carter already had an idea in his mind of who and what they were, but it's all the little details that counts. For instance, Mulder could have gotten even more pissed (than he already was, yes) at the perceived defection and betrayal of his partner, and in his anger refused to see Scully's reasoning. Such an action and indication of his personality would have caused a deep rift between the two. Scully could have believed Mulder because of the simple fact that she knows him, and it would have been the easy thing to do. But we learn, that's not who she is. Mulder is intelligent and reasonable enough to see why Scully would be concerned enough to pull a gun on him, and Scully possesses the will and emotional detachment necessary to keep all involved alive—she has the arguable gift of objectivity. Perhaps this give and take can be summed up by a single exchange: Mulder shouts, "Scully! For God sakes, it's me!" to which she softly, painfully replies, "Mulder, you may not be who you are." It is at this point that Mulder lowers his gun.
That's a lot of tension. Stemming from sexual lust for one another? That's debatable, and I won't go into it. But the scene that I refer to as evidencing the most sexual tension in many such instances between our two heroes is when they are checking each other for the worm. Scully says, "I can't do this to him until I'm sure" before stepping into Mulder's makeshift cell, and her anguish is unmistakable. She is torn between what she wants to do (to hell with the other two—she would rather risk a violent episode by Mulder and gain irrefutable proof that he is infected rather than infect him) and what she knows is the right thing to do (with two other lives at stake, she cannot be sentimental). Already, the situation breaks one's heart.
Mulder is understandably upset at the thought of being given one worm. I still love David Duchovny's intonation of "You give me one worm, you'll infect me." His performance in this episode is second only to Ascension, in my opinion. Scully desperately wants to believe him. She knows she cannot live with the consequences if she is wrong. Not only would that certainly spell doom for everyone involved, but even worse, it would be a result of her lack of trust in her partner.
We also sense Scully's youth as she timorously replies to Mulder's assertion, "If that's true then why didn't you let us inspect you?" First of all, the scene had already been loaded with sexual tension from the outset. The moment Scully stepped into the confinement alone, the air was extremely intimate. It was as though these two people were given their last chance to be together before they were to be permanently separated—and this was their last chance to make good on all the unresolved issues between them. Secondly, David Duchovny's Mulder ups the intimacy a hundred-fold when he steps as close to Scully as possible without touching her, stooping down to speak right to her face, rasping in a low voice begging her to listen to him, to hear him as who he was—her friend, her partner. His words implore her to believe in him, to believe that he would never seek to do her harm. That, in spite of everything, he believes in her. "I would have but you pulled a gun on me. Now, I don’t trust them. I want to trust you."
But the scene's not over yet, folks. Scully, nervously says, "Okay. But they're not here now." One wonders why her voice is trembling so—I seriously doubt she fears for her life; it stems mostly, in my opinion, from lust. Plus, those words spoken by any two people sexually involved with one another would seem to suggest something else than a worm-check entirely...but I digress. Mulder, without a word, turns his back, giving her permission to do what she will. He trusts her. He understands her need for the physical proof. I thought she should have been more thorough and had him take his shirt off—I mean, if you're going to check you might as well do a good job, right? She allows herself the luxury of rubbing his neck for a few moments before she's satisfied...that he's not infected. She turns around in relief.
Then we have a classic Mulder sensual move. The kind where if he were anybody else it'd be obvious that it's sexual. But Mulder is the king of the pseudo-sensual move. I gasped along with Scully. To my disappointment (and perhaps hers) he doesn't pull her against him and start to madly kiss her. What he does do is firmly pull down the collar of her shirt to inspect the nape of her neck. This entire scene is charged with sexual tension...and I believe that no other episode quite matches up to it in that respect. It is because they are just getting to know each other; they are in the stages when they don't know quite what to expect from their relationship or what the other wants. The open possibilities are glaring, deliciously so.
That is not to say that the cadence of Mulder and Scully's relationship is no longer worthy of such distinction. In fact, it's quite the opposite. The level of intimacy and understanding they have achieved is much more worthy of envy and notice than these early stages of UST. As with any long term relationship, the tension wears off because the newness, the sense of the unexpected is worn away, as well as the mystery. But what is gained is worth a thousand times what is lost. As early as the second season, when Scully is abducted then returned, the dynamic of their relationship changes, from one of strangers who find themselves attracted to one another, to that of two people who love and live for one another.
I'd rather see the latter any day. And, I think, so would they.
"Now, I don’t trust them. I want to trust you."
Please feel free to
"Scully! For God sakes, it’s me!"
"Mulder, you may not be who you are."
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me at jenu1bruin@centropolis.org
1999 by Jennifer J. Chen