This is Fox Mulder’s house, Spotnitz announces —
So I’m not going to tell you anything to ruin it.
But anything I do tell you, or anything that you do figure out about it, I really do appreciate it if you try to be discreet until the movie comes out.
We nod real angelic like — fingers crossed — and make sure our recorders are jammed so close to his goateed mouth they’ll smell of his breath for days to come. Minty, I hope.
And he goes on chattering about how the house replicates a real one used for exteriors and for the story’s setting it’ll be somewhere around Washington D.C. in the winter. And Mulder has been hiding out here from the Feds for the last six years. And I’m like thinking, better not reveal any of that. Need to stay on the studio’s good side and all.
So we enter the living room. Vintage rugs and books and shelving and furniture and all other sorts of old-fashioned knickknacks make up the decor. Lots of darks, creams, browns and wood. And Spotnitz is like, we did a number of things to try to make it feel like Mulder’s home. So you’ll notice the brown railing that goes around the living room. There was one just like that in his apartment. The feel of carpets and furniture is keeping with the type of furniture he had in his apartment in the show.
But I’m thinking, shit, with the exception of Mulder’s pet goldfish and scattered newspapers and old copies of “Scientific American,” this joint reminds me of a room in a funeral parlor. That side room you shuffle off to when you tire of staring at the stiff in the box and want to eat gingersnaps and drink mini cans of 7-Up.
Spotnitz leads us past a staircase going up to nowhere and towards a door in the back of the living room. I’m stuck in the rear of this wolf-pack and hear giggling ahead.
Oh.
We’ve just walked into the lair of a goddamn lunatic.
Dozens of pencils dangle from the ceiling like some absurd Indiana Jones death trap. Pine walls are blanketed with hundreds of news clippings and photos and drawings with strings running across connecting them — hey there’s the monster from the black and white episode. Stacks of old “New York Times” stuffed in all crevices. This is The X-Files Home Office, says Spotnitz. As you can tell Mulder’s a bit of a pack rat.
Sunflower seeds sit on the solid wood desk along with a pic of Mulder’s sister and disheveled papers. Globes and maps and vintage books placed everywhere. Collections of dead tarantulas shadowboxed and displayed. And a Dell PC takes up a corner — a PC in a Hollywood movie, truly a conspiracy is afoot. And of course, pinned to the wall in this visual cacophony is, as one journo gasps, “The Poster.”
Some try to goad Spotnitz in spilling details on the flick’s story. C’mon tell us something. Anything. So Mulder and Scully been away from each other? Sorry, I can’t confirm the way you worded that question. Yeesh!
I lean against a couple of tall, black filing cabinets. “Unexplained Files.” Perhaps the script is in here. I’m tempted to peek, but Spotnitz herds us out from Mad Mulder’s office into the room next door.
