more than a pretty face

CC is often credited as being a pioneer in his commitment not to sexualize Scully. Everyone (CC, 1013, media, fans) frequently claims the decision not to emphasize Scully’s sex appeal was rare for TV at the time. This is kind of true, if maybe a little overstated.

By the time Never Again aired, in 1997, primetime TV also had Captain Janeway, Buffy Summers, Murphy Brown, Elaine Benes, Anita Van Buren. These are not “de-sexualized” characters necessarily, but also not at all accurately described as oversexualized stereotypes. Some of those characters predated Scully.  It was a less common choice to deemphasize a female character’s sex appeal on TV, but it’s also not really fair to say it was all Baywatch babe caricatures all the time. I think we can say this was something that was actively changing in the 1990s that would continue to evolve in the next decades. I do think it’s worth observing that some writers of the time had figured out how to write complicated female characters … who also sometimes had sex.

One quibble I have with the “1013 was special because they didn’t sexualize Scully” claim is that … they did sexualize Scully. All the time? No. But sometimes? Absolutely. 

Some of this I just don’t really think is debatable. If this had been a series starring DD and Nicholas Lea, would Krycek nervously take off his clothes in the pilot to show Mulder his bug bites? Well, of course we would have written outstanding horny fic about it if he had, but come on: NO WAY. (Because 1993, heteronormativity, etc.) As it was, they knew they were sexualizing the female lead a little and exploiting both leads’ sexual chemistry as a tease to get audiences interested in their pilot. Come on. They knew. This isn’t rocket science. They had a little show on Fox, and they were trying to get people to watch. 

(There was an interview years ago when GA said something to this effect, too. Something like: the bumps could have been anywhere on my body, but they had to be a place I had to take off my clothes.)

As many have pointed out over the years, Scully was also semi-regularly a focus of male sexual fantasy. Sometimes this was pathological and violent (see: Donnie Pfaster, twice). Other times, this was benign and played for gentle laughs (see: Frohike, Pendrell). Sometimes, the fantasy was quite vividly enacted on screen (see: Philip Padgett, Guy Mann). Please note that I’m not saying this should or shouldn’t have happened, only that it did. 

That said, I think Carter did take pains to avoid sexualizing Scully as an overall principle, and I think this was effective. He emphasized her intellect and her professional motives. We love Scully for this. It’s part of what makes the character who she is. Credit where credit is due.

Unfortunately, he did seem to believe that Scully being seen as a serious character meant not having sex at all. I don’t want to erase asexuality, and I sometimes hear people saying they recognize that in Scully. If this works as representation for people, it’s positive. But for me, I just don’t see Scully written as ace. I think she was being written, by men, as embodying an old trope about women not having sex or being too overtly sexy to be seen as trustworthy or taken seriously (see: Madonna-whore complex).

Now mind you, Mulder’s sexuality was a problem for the show, too. For sure. As with Scully, they wanted him devoted to the quest / platonic partnership only, which means he couldn’t really have an outside romance as a competing motivation for him.  I’d argue this did eventually paint the writers into a MSR corner, because both characters’ energy and emotions were really only focused towards one another as an extension of their quest. But they did let Mulder have porn, lots of suggestive talk, sexually aggressive exes (see: Phoebe, Diana), several ambiguous possible sexual encounters (see: Marita, Diana), and one unambiguous one night stand (see: Kristen). 

Scully does eventually get an ex who directly comes on to her—and notice who gave him to her. She also gets a vibrator in canon—also a female writer—but that takes decades, people, decades. Mulder’s been carrying on with that porn forever by that point.

I think this relates to my cynical idea that Carter’s insistence on avoiding sexualizing Scully is really about his protection of Mulder as his hero / protagonist, not Scully herself. More on that later.

One of my least favorite pieces of “Chris Carter deemphasized Scully’s sexuality” evidence is Ye Olde Story About The Busty Baywatch Network Scully. If you look at any number of interviews with Carter dating back to, say, 1994-1998, he often tells the same story about the network wanting to hire a leggy busty actress to play Scully and him insisting on Plain Jane Gillian Anderson instead. Often Pamela Anderson, the lead actress of Baywatch, is specifically mentioned in the story, or sometimes it’s just a “Baywatch type” actress. 

The repetition of this story is kind of gross, for two big reasons. Reason #1 is that it frames Carter as a hero for ... what? Rejecting the network’s toxic beauty standards to hire absolutely stunning GA, who, yes, is short, but isn’t exactly a radical rethinking of what’s attractive? I understand that Gillian Anderson isn’t “a Baywatch type,” but it’s not like she wasn’t a woman considered sexually appealing by MANY people. Including, incidentally, Chris Carter, who outright admitted Scully was his type. 

It is absolutely good we got GA. No one questions that. But in my opinion Carter got way too many kudos for choosing this supposedly non-sexy actress for Scully. Because honestly. “non-sexy GA” can’t even be said with a straight face. Even DD eventually started saying in 1996 that this story was weird and overdone, although he said it in a kind of an awful way: “That’s overblown. You look at Gillian, and she’s a beautiful woman. And how often do you see Scully in a bathing suit? Gillian’s not 6 feet tall and doesn’t have what’s-her-face’s tits, but she’s got as nice a face as any of them.”

Reason #2 is that Carter’s story seems to remind GA at every turn in those early years that she wasn’t hot enough for success if it weren’t for him insisting on her. This has an especially icky residue given her struggles over body image and equitable salary. (If you don’t think it had the potential to have that effect, just take a gander at DD’s quote when he was probably sincerely trying to be supportive above, and try to get into the toxic 1990s mindset of how people talked about women’s bodies.) 

Finally, one more complication regarding the sexualization of Scully: jealousy. I’d argue the jealousy trope was a kind of sexualization. The show has no issue with jealousy for vaguely sexual / romantic motives coming from Scully, even though the “hot women jealously bickering over the male hero” is a trope that seems pretty clearly derived from straight male sexual fantasies, too. Scully shows jealousy of female rivals for Mulder’s respect or trust early and often. Again, not saying this should or shouldn’t have happened: only that it did. (Actually, if you know me or my fanfic, you know I’m pretty down for some jealousy stories lol.)

In earlier seasons, Scully’s jealousy is played for laughs and is more ambiguously motivated, mixed up with professional jealousy. For example, she’s threatened by Bambi Berenbaum not only because she’s a hot woman who has Mulder’s attention, but also because she’s a competing scientist.  By the Diana arc, Scully’s jealousy is tightly tied to plot and is angst-ridden. It’s also much harder to explain, at least in late season 5’s The End, without romantic jealousy as some sort of driving motive. We can say in One Son there is a professional explanation—she thinks Diana is dirty and Mulder is being disrespectful of his partner—but why on earth is Scully sitting heartbroken in that car in The End if not for personal reasons?

And then there’s this, some cut dialogue from Sixth Extinction that has Scully and Diana arguing over Mulder. Here both characters are written managing to reference one another’s physical appearance in a way that has absolutely no relevance to their ostensibly professional conversation.

There’s no universe in which you can convince me this is in character for Scully (or for Diana really), and it frankly shows objectification of both female characters. But this dialogue was cut, so maybe someone felt similarly at 1013. 

Mulder is not shown as being jealous in the same obvious, overt way, and I don’t think Carter would have let that happen. This is where I start to suspect that the whole “Scully isn’t sexualized” claim of Carter’s is actually more about his protection of Mulder’s character than Scully’s. 

Carter didn’t want to sexualize Scully because he didn’t want Mulder to be seen as the kind of male character who would seriously be distracted by lust for his co-worker and partner beyond easy, low-commitment jokes. He wanted Mulder to be seen as pure of heart (porn aside) and entirely devoted to his quest. He wanted him to have a partner he wouldn’t be thinking dirty thoughts about, especially because 1013’s writers often seem to have a worldview in which desire and respect can’t coexist. And he wanted Scully to be uncomplicatedly devoted to supporting him.

So Scully is jealous of female attention of Mulder because it’s consistent with her devotion to the work, and Mulder is equivalent to their work. But Mulder’s not going to be shown spinning too much about male attention to Scully because he’s gotta stay single-mindedly devoted to the quest. (Until it is a threat specifically to his work, as when it’s Doggett replacing him on multiple levels.) 

Of course, by creating characters who only are interested in this mutual quest and in supporting one another— and then by casting constantly-handsy Duchovny and longing-eyed Anderson and presumably directing them to keep all that shit under control all the time — CC definitely created the perfect hothouse conditions for MSR. Apparently directors were telling them to dial back their performances of scenes all the time. And honestly, that feeling of constant restraint reads in the final cut. Even when they are just sitting there talking about a corpse they always look like they are holding back and buttoning in all these feelings. It’s constantly sexually charged. Desire and respect appear to be sharing space all the time. It’s a textbook case of getting the opposite of what you’re ostensibly trying to do.

Maggie Was Scully's Emergency Contact

The hospital called Maggie when Scully was rushed in, unconscious; and while this doesn't outright disprove the theory Mulder might also be an emergency contact, it certainly fits in with the pattern of him being called to the hospital and let into Scully's room by Maggie and not the other way around (i.e. One Breath and Wetwired.) Furthermore, Mulder isn't alerted (that I know of) to a missed call from the hospital after his return to civilization, meaning the hospital didn't notify him at all.

Bill the Bully?

Is Bill a despicable figure? Most definitely... in a deleted Memento Mori scene-- which is why I think they cut it. Though his words are brusque, even cruel in their blunt honesty, Bill, apart from that scene, doesn't seem to willfully inflict or weaponize guilt against his sister, wielding it only as a reminder of how much her family is left out of her life, how much they want to be there for her and don't understand why she won't let them in. It's a fundamental difference in how they approach life; and both are forceful about their insistence on doing things their own way.

Scully is used to being everyone's source of strength (Maggie places her on a pedestal even above her brothers in Memento Mori), which hinders her from opening up or betraying her weakness. Being "the strong one" for so long turned into a fear of failing others; but this reticence has the opposite effect, ostracizing and distancing her family (and Mulder) in her struggles to keep them unaffected. Their divide grows as the years go on (though it seems an equilibrium of sorts has been reached after Emily, since she mentions them fondly in How the Ghosts Stole Christmas and indirectly in Millennium.)

Bill Is Right (in This Instance)

On its face, Bill's speech is unrelenting and out of left field... but is it, really?

Bill is told about his sister's cancer only when it has become irredeemably terminal. He arrives on land, either before or after Maggie's revelation, and finds the rest of the family ignorant and his mother having to shoulder that burden, alone, because his sister refused to let her tell anyone else the news-- meaning, Maggie has been suffering in silence the entire cancer arc, trying to abide by her daughter's terms for space and silence on the topic. However, Scully's definitive terminal diagnosis broke her; and Maggie, having no one to turn to support because Dana still refused to talk about it, finally confessed to her priest and reached out to her son for strength. Bill sees how hard this has been on her and tries to alleviate that burden by adopting his sister's methods: keeping Maggie in the dark as much as possible. It honors what he knows to be his sister's wishes and his mother's fears.

In this scene Bill is absolutely in the right. He and his sister, while not incredibly close, have no ill will between them; and he finds out that not only has she been slowly dying for months and sworn their mother to secrecy but she also still refused to tell him, even when he dropped everything to bail her and Maggie out with this act of kindness. This is wrong-- it is-- and his speech rebuking his sister is as deserved as Scully's are to Mulder whenever he acts only in stubborn self-interest.

Bill is hurt, Bill is grieved; and Bill drives that home, peeling back his sister's denial by exposing her true intent: "You think you can cure yourself." The ludicrous nature of her expectations-- cure incurable cancer and never tell a soul so she won't have to 'suffer' the shame or embarrassment of their sympathy or pity-- galls him; and he's right. It's Scully's struggle and her burden; but it's not just her struggle or burden: her family and loved ones are losing her, too, and that pain is just as powerfully frightening. Bill wants more from her than an immovable pillar of strength-- and that's a good thing. Maggie needed her to be "the strong one", and Mulder needed her to keep fighting; but Bill just wanted his sister to tell him the truth and let him in.

A last note: Bill grew up with Dana-- he knows her propensity to get lost in father figures and demanding authorities. He probably sees Mulder as another Daniel Waterston or Jack Willis, an extension of her undisguised adoration for their late father. He's naturally protective (as we see in Redux II, though grossly misplaced) and thinks Scully is losing that stability in herself the more engrossed she becomes in her work (ex. Gethsemane-Redux II and A Christmas Carol.) These fears and concerns are expressed in overbearing finger-wagging and anger rather than communication, a (sadly) common affliction in a family growing a more distant with time and lives necessarily apart.

Scully Believed She Could Cure Herself

Since Memento Mori, Scully's modus operandi has been to avoid, avoid, avoid the topic of her cancer (and the death of her father, her abduction, etc.) The following cases rarely touched on her illness unless she had a concerning diagnosis or needed further treatment, i.e. Zero Sum and Elegy. Radiation was likely ruled out as ineffective since the skirmish with Dr. Scanlon (and was a drain of her valuable energy and health without any chance of helping, regardless); so, Scully probably opted for more obscure treatments, buying time while she and Mulder chipped away at their work.

In the back of her mind, she believed, truly, that she wouldn't die: that her cancer could be tucked away from her family and cured before Bill or the others ever found out. As we know, Maggie bore the brunt of her daughter's edict of silence alone, finally caving when the cancer reached Scully's bloodstream. When Bill waits for an explanation-- staring at his sister's defiance and stubbornness and pure conviction that she's fine and that the family shouldn't be worried about her at all-- he figures out her blind expectation and avoidance-bordering-on-denial and says, appalled: "You think you can cure yourself." Scully dips her head, exposed and embarrassed.

The beginning of Gethsemane proves Scully was still denial: "my dying wish" she professes on the one hand only to reject the priest and shake her head at Bill with the other. No, Scully did not expect to die alone without her family there. When Bill demands, "We have a responsibility-- not just to ourselves, but to the people in our lives", she parries, "Just because I don't bare my soul to you or to Father McCue or to God." Scully thought she was doing her duty by keeping her loved ones in her thoughts while carrying out her solitary battle. When Bill strips her of her further excuses-- "Who? To this guy Mulder?"-- it peels back her hyper-focused perspective, reminding Scully that it's not just her and Mulder fighting the world.

She did her family and Mulder and herself a disservice by pushing them all away to "protect them", as she realizes in Redux II: being "strong" stripped them of the ability to support each other and was damaging in the long run. In this, Bill is undeniably correct. However, where Bill is wrong is that he doesn't see that Scully believes in Mulder's ability to save her, that by following him she is doing what is best for herself.

Her partner's fervor and hope give her strength; and his inability to break under defeat keeps her fighting even in her darkest hours (and does end up saving her life.) Scully put such faith in Mulder and his abilities and his theories that she kept council only with herself (as much as possible) to keep him going, to keep the weight off his shoulders (and her mother's and her family's) so that they could move forward as a well-oiled machine, ready to snatch the cure whenever they got their hands on it. And Mulder did get his hands on it... and then it failed.

She's dying; but it's not until the cure fails that the dam breaks: everything Scully had been fearing comes rushing out of her. She gives in, crying to her mother about her crumbling lack of faith-- because the miracle cure didn't work, because her months of waiting and hoping in private were all for naught, because she's going to die and there's no possible way to escape. But it's also freeing: she can own her fear, hold onto her mother, clutch Mulder's hand, cry with the priest, finally lean into and start to heal from the weights she's been holding on her back, alone.

And she prays: death is near.

Scully Wanted to Please Bill, Too

As she told Ed Jerse in Never Again, "There are other fathers."

The ouroboros twirls on and on in her personal life, goading her to both make a stand for herself and to placate Bill's expected reactions. In this situation, she did deserve his anger; however, this dynamic continues to play out in Redux II and A Christmas Carol, separate circumstances that are outside Bill's scope of understanding or perspective. After each confrontation, her brother always backs off and begrudgingly acquiesces his sister's boundaries; but it's easy to see why he clings to his late father's behaviors-- viewing them as the only way his sister will confide in him-- and why Scully automatically responds to-- albeit with more guilt than openness-- and rejects his methods.

It's an aspect of their relationship that fell to the wayside as the series barreled onward; but there are hints of resignation on his part after the events of Emily unfolded the way they did (silent support in the courthouse and true remorse in the church.) Scully, however, is locked in grief and unwilling to open back up, yet. We're never shown on-screen what happens next; but he seems to have caused her no further problems in spite of her professional and personal scares in the future (including almost being burned alive, an unexpected trip to Antarctica, job demotion, and getting gut shot all within the span of a few months.) Perhaps he gave her up for loss, perhaps he stayed close but distant, perhaps he withdrew from the drama all together. We'll never know; and, ultimately, it's up to individual interpretation.

Conclusion

This scene sets up the hinge upon which the cancer arc (and any future Scully family drama) twists and turns.

I don't believe Bill is bad, or even malevolent: he, like any other person in a family strained with distance and death, doesn't seem to blame Scully entirely or for long; and only wishes to get through to her somehow. We saw him bully her as a child but we also saw him gift and teach her how to use a bb gun. Scully, meanwhile, balks at and softens over Bill's bluster and overstepping, always effectively putting him in his place after courteously listening to his opinion. We saw her yell and shove him as a child but we also saw her gleefully play alongside he and Charlie.

In conclusion: like all sibling relationships, there are headbutts and there are fights; but it seems, at least by their conversation here and succeeding ones in the future, that any hitch or bump in the road is smoothed over, ironed out, or fixed before it becomes permanent. Bill makes excellent points that Scully takes into consideration, changing her future dealings with Maggie and Bill and even Mulder (namely, her willingness to open up in Detour); and Bill, having said his peace, supports his sister in her decisions the rest of this arc and later in S5.

That we know about.

Thank you for reading~