White haired X-Files creator on a mission to
       scare the hell out of you. Out of everyone...


"Chris Carter Must Die For The X-Files Chris Carter Must Die."
   The internet is wallpapered with such bizarre phrases - 
mantras all the more chant-like, for their lack of 
punctuation. Welcome to the world as seen through the lens 
of X-Files fandom.
   "Yeah, I know," Chris Carter sighs, grimacing. This is
a rare moment of inarticulateness for the normally well-
spoken X-Files guru. He laughs the matter of swiftly, 
however, dismissing it as an "unexplained phenomenon".
   Facing him across an all-white hotel room, Empire
is struck by how Carter curiously befits this blanched
environment. Even his hair is white, which strangely
also grants him the air of a California surfer dude. For
a creator of a paranoia-sated franchise whose viewers
take impassioned notes on every gesture and idiom, he
is surprisingly wholesome-looking.
   Make no mistake though - the former TV exec and jour-
nalist wanted to create something that would unnerve a de-
sensitied generation or two. A few years back, Carter got
the greenlight for The X-Files on the simple promise
that there was nothing on TV approaching the scariness
of the bygone show The Nightstalker. He then drew on his
Watergate-scarred psyche to hatch the perfect government
conspiracy plotline.
   "I came up with this idea that the FBI must have some
kind of unit that  dealt with paranormal phenomena.
And then I created the man and the woman, and I switched
the gender stereotypes, and just started playing with it."
   "Hereīs the simple recipe - Iīll give it to you," he
says magnanimously, "for the success of a TV show.
You find two very good leading actors to play two inter-
esting characters, and you give them interesting stories
to be in. Except," pausing for several beats, "that you
fid those two actors, and you just hope that they have
the chemistry that David and Gillian have together.
Thatīs the magic. Thatīs the alchemy thatīs involved here.
And thatīs why itīs very hard to duplicate."
   The movie, designed to span two seasons and enthral
fans as well as attract new ones, continues to bring back
fear to the masses.
   "I made a point of not trying to answer too many
things that would have only made sense to the hardcore
fan in the movie. Everyone started in a level playing
field. With the X-Files being closed (as they are at
the start of the movie), everyone who came into the
theatre was seeing Mulder and Scully for the first time,
wearing those FBI jackets, in another assignment. So
newcomer and fan alike were starting in the same place.
   "The feature works by itself," he continues, "but
Iīm still going to remain honest to the series and the
movie. I must be honest to what I think is the ongoing
progression of events in the history, if you will, of
the characters."
   His speech reaches its most earnest tones when 
explaining away several criticisms of the movie by
revealing the behind-the-scenes mindset. You wonīt see
much of the aliens, for example - youīll have to watch the
next season for that. They decided to make Brit John Neville
appear to get into an exploding car. Not to mention, of 
course, the action.
   "It canīt just be a talkie thriller, it has to be
something of a ride. There are some action sequences - 
the big screen requires you to do things you wouldnīt do
on the small screen. Being a summer movie, you have to."
   Being Chris Carter, you also have to deal with feverish
internet speculation about rumours of an impromptu cameo by
Duchovnyīs derriere, a scene which has been cut off from 
the final version.
   "I canīt believe that so many people would be so inter-
ested in David Duchovnyīs butt," he says. "You would think
that a manīs butt is not all that..." he laughs, trailing
off.
   The real FBI lent a hand to the film (as they do to the
show). But itīs officially unofficial - the input originates
from individual agents.
   "They believe The X-Files puts the FBI in a very good
light. A lot of people have wanted to join as a result.
Theyīre quick to tell you there are no X-Files but, you
know," he chuckles, "trust no one..."
   As for Carterīs future film career, he envisions himself
trying his hand at a sweeping Romance - a period piece, by
God - from an original story. For now, though, heīs happy 
on the small screen.
   "You can tell stories that you canīt tel on the big
screen. Itīs funny that you look at movies over time, and
you see that whatīs happened now is that there used to be
a kind of movie made for the big screen that wonīt be made
anymore - that has become kind of the cable movie."
   To illustrate his point, he asks Empire to imagine a
modern-day pitch meeting for Kramer Vs. Kramer or even 
The Graduate. Both, he presses, would wind up being made
for the telly.
   Meanwhile, Carter is already beginning work on seasons
six and seven. Is he happy the show has moved to LA to 
accomodate Duchovnyīs desire to be near to his new wife
Tea Leoni?
   "Part of me is, and part of me is not," he says, his
aswer oddly ending on an higher note, as if he was 
asking a question. Leaning back in his chair, with more
than a hint of wistfulness, he continues, "I love 
Vancouver. Milleniumīs going into its third year - itīll
still shoot in Vancouver, so Iīm going to still live a
very schizophrenic life."
   Fear not - thereīs always the ever-present aliens to 
keep him company on his Pacific coastal voyages. Or maybe
not. He claims (to his continuing disappointment) that
heīs never witnessed any paranormal activities.
   "But," he offers, "Iīve had these experiences, and
I have to call them paranormal because every once in
a while, itīs like a harmonic convergence of sorts.
Iīll be walking down the street, and I wonīt know
people on the street, but I know them all. I recognise
them all. Theyīre all very familiar to me. And I donīt
know what it is. Iīm sure itīs very Jungian." he pauses.
"But it could be beer..."

Catherine Scroop