Severed Review: "Salvage"
By Skullhead

While last week's XF outing was evidently designed to sure kill the
viewers, this week's episode managed to salvage some of the few
remaining threads of dignity. Some aspects of the Good Ol' Days were in
evidence as director Rod Hardy explored the touching story of an
accident-prone metal man who leaves his handprints in tuna cans. Such
was the mental anguish depicted in this ep, that Philes the world over
were sobbing with heartbroken woe by the time the closing credits rolled
around.

Aderyn: But most of the world hasn't seen the episode yet. Don't you
mean "Philes the continent over"?
Skull: No.

The plot of this instant classic was fiendishly clever in its poetic simplicity.
There was this guy. And he was made of metal. And I think he died in the
end, but I'm not positive. And Scully's hair looked good...oh, who am I
kidding? This is a joke.

[Skull begins to sob quietly]

Aderyn: Skull, what the hell is wrong with you now? Don't tell me you're
feeling sorry for yourself about the weather again.
Skull: No. How insulting! I'm crying because...oh God! <wail>
Aderyn: Stop that. Skull! Tell me what's going on before I bash your head
in. Again.
Skull: It's...it's these freaking reviews! They're pathetic! We're never going
to regain the sharp writing and character insight from our glory days. The
reviews are mere ghosts of what they once were. WE'RE DOOMED!
Aderyn: But we're telling such new and original stories.
Skull: HOGWASH! Our continuity is dog-paddling around in the toilet
water. Every week we just FORGET about my extensive cranial injuries.
We NEVER show me in the hospital or anything. We don't even show me
mourning for you! It's like you NEVER EXISTED!
Aderyn: But Skull...
Skull: NO! Don't you dare insult me with your paltry excuses! I don't even
own any decent clothes anymore! I'm...I'm a CHANGED WOMAN! And
nobody is even ACKNOWLEDGING it! <violent sniffle>
Aderyn: Skull! I haven't gone anywhere. We banter as much as we
always have. The reviews are as crappy as they have always been. Hell,
we had a conversation exactly like this in the last review. Get a grip!
Jeez.
Skull: Well, if you have to be so damn prosaic about it, then perhaps you
can tell me what the hell I'm supposed to talk about in this review? There
were no posts about this episode. NO BLOODY POSTS AT ALL.
Aderyn: Is it that time of the month again? Already?
Skull: NO. Don't be rude.

[Skull downs a couple of painkillers]

Skull: Aaah. Well, this review is getting embarrassingly dialogue-heavy,
so perhaps you have some suggestions on how I should proceed?
Aderyn: Talk about the metal guy. Didn't he shave with nail clippers or
something?
Skull: Oh yeah!

The poor metal guy, known to his friends as Little Ray of Alkaline, was
forced by his unusual genetic makeup to use a somewhat unorthodox set
of tools for personal grooming. Shaving with nail clippers is one thing, but
you have to feel sorry for a guy who uses Brillo pads to scour his face
clean, and gardening shears to trim his split ends. It's no wonder Scully
was having trouble autopsying him - the poor dear eventually had to use
a giant chainsaw just to make the Y-incision.

Speaking of Scully, her hair looked really good in this episode. Floof
was abundant, and her luscious locks shone with shimmering shininess.

Aderyn: Shone with shininess?
Skull: Shaddup, sheila.

Our Saint once again demonstrated that she don't need no stinkin'
versatility, confining her wardrobe this week to two lovely outfits - one of
which, unfortunately, consisted of surgical scrubs. There was some
confusion over her other ensemble, however; it's a mystery to me how
Scully managed to spill blue powder all over her sweater.

Aderyn: Maybe she was using one of those plastic babies to practise her
impending motherhood, and spilt some of the baby powder over herself.
Skull: Blue baby powder?
Aderyn: It probably blends in better with the grey skin.

A lovely use of metaphor was utilised in the opening scene of the ep,
which showed Scully standing in the middle of a horrific car wreck. The
mess that is XF was beautifully symbolised in the image of twisted,
mutilated vehicles, with our saint standing in the centre like an airbag of
salvation. Apparently she was also aware of this lamentable situation,
since she spent the reminder of the episode hiding from its craptitude in
the autopsy bay. It is a sad, sad day when Scully prefers the company of
a disintegrating metallic carcass to that of her personality-challenged
pawtner. However, an explanation for this could lie in the fact that a
mysterious "laser-eye effect" in Scully was spotted by several fans,
leading them to speculate that she may be part cyborg. That would
explain her lack of recent emoting, at any rate.

Aderyn: Hee hee. Maybe she and Dawgit should get married-
Skull: Hooold it. None of that, missy. This is my review and no Dippiness
will be tolerated.
Aderyn: Oh, wHatEVaH. Then maybe Scully and *Mulder* should get
married, and then she would reveal her cyborgian background in one of
those smoky post-coital scenes.
Skull: Groovy, baby. But I hope this doesn't mean Sculder will turn out to
be metallic.
Aderyn: Well, it'd have its advantages. Scully and Mulder wouldn't need
to lock her in her bedroom when she's naughty - they could just stick her
on the fridge.

It was rather anticlimactic for poor Ray that, after surviving a hideous car
wreck and a dangerous shooting match, he finally carked it after being
locked in a closet by our compassionate agents, who then proceeded to
leave him there until he suffocated. Niiiice.

Aderyn: He was probably feeling suicidal anyway, after being forced to
endure Dawgit's Terminator references.
Skull: I know I was.
Aderyn: Aw, what changed your mind? <snerk>

The interaction between Scully and Dawgit gave rise to much discussion
this week. Many fans are concerned by the rigid formality that the
partners use to address each other. I must admit that I am in total
agreement here - it is utterly implausible that the two should still call each
other "Agent Scully" and "Agent Doggett" after their Divine Slug Bonding
Experience.

Aderyn: Oh, I think so too! I mean, say they had sex - would Scully yell
out "AGENT DOGGETT!" at the height of her ecstasy?
Skull: I'd tell you to shut up, but I'm dangerously close to empty on my
idea gauge, and I'm going to need you to put some gas in the tank
embarrassingly soon.
Aderyn: Thanks for letting me know. I believe a beer might help my
inspiration generation.

[Aderyn reclines gracefully in her chair and looks around for her palm leaf fan]

Skull: You're a bitch.
Aderyn: <yawn> Yeah. Beer, please.

[Skull mutters, fetches Aderyn a beer, and returns to the computer amidst
some offensively loud gurgling sounds]

As a reviewer, I feel that it would improve the show greatly if Scully and
Doggett eased up on the formality a little. Perhaps some chemistry would
be forthcoming if they were to start addressing each other as, for
example, "Dana Schnookums" and "John Boy Dawgit". It would certainly
add some much needed schmoop to the show.

Aderyn: Let's not stop there. They should have weekly bonding sessions
and reveal every last detail of their personal histories. It's high time the
show focused on the characters - I think we should have an episode
entitled "Scully and Doggett go to Disneyland". They could have their
pictures taken with Mickey Mouse <shudder>. It would do the show no
end of good.
Skull: Oh, totally. And then they could go on a weekend getaway to
Hawaii, and drink cocktails with liddle paper umbrellas in them.
Aderyn: Yeah! And then one of them could get shot, and they'd realise
how much they mean to each other, and then they could go on a case
and be forced to share one hotel room, and then they could be trapped in
a cabin during a blizzard, and then...
Skull: Let's not get carried away, all right?

One good thing about Salvage is that it reminded many viewers just how
precious life is. The hour that they spent watching the episode could have
been utilised in so many other ways. Would it have been more profitable
to visit the ice cream parlour? To put through a load of laundry? To audit
a mailing list? To clean the shower? To breed a squirrel+llama+trout
hybrid? To pick lint off a sweater? Ah, the wasted opportunities.

Skull: Enjoying your beer?
Aderyn: Yep.
Skull: Good, because I have completely run out of ideas. There is
absolutely nothing more to talk about. Besides, Lleyton Hewitt just lost to
Carlos Moya and I'm depressed.
Aderyn: Well, peel me a grape and I'll favour you with my insight and
wisdom...thanks. Unbeknownst to all except myself, I have created a
super-secret weapon, modelled after one that the boys at 1013 are
currently using on a weekly basis. Would you like to be the first to try it out?
Skull: Duh.
Aderyn: All right.

[Aderyn hands Skull the Random Past Severed Review Elements Plagiarising
Machine Generator Thingie]

Aderyn: Just hit the big red button and all your troubles will be over.
Skull: 'Kay.

[Skull hits the big red button]

Skull: What now?
Aderyn: We wait for it to work its magic.
Skull: Ah.

[Insert potentially fatal head injury here]

Aderyn: [insert neener here]
Skull: [insert insult here]

[Insert faux analysis here]

Aderyn: [insert smartass comment here]
Skull: [insert verbal abuse here]

[Insert somewhat desperate and/or contrived ending paragraph here]

[Insert anticlimactic dialogue here (optional)]

Aderyn: See? Works like a charm.
Skull: Uh, yeah. Do you think it would benefit from a little tinkering? Say,
in the area of specifics?
Aderyn: You're just never satisfied, are you? That plot device
successfully filled up thirty-six lines of review space.
Skull: Good point...um, now what happens?
Aderyn: Well I didn't factor in you having so few ideas this week. There's
only so much my brilliant invention can do. Sheesh... Surely there must
be something else to say about Salvage? Ooh, I know, I've just thought of
a really kewl idea! Say something nice about Scully's hair.

While subtle plot nuances and touching character development were
again lamentably absent from this week's episode, the outing was
salvaged by the luscious cranial fur of our saint. Who needs fullness of
plot when we have fullness of coif? Who needs sparkling dialogue when
we have floof that speaks for itself? Who needs polished writing when we
have gloss and shine? Who needs multi-layered characters when we
have deep, rich colour? No, cynical and disenchanted fans, the show has
*not* deteriorated into the depths of mediocrity. It is as clever and
fascinating as it has always been, and I shall fly the flag of XF allegiance
for as long as the show continues to grace my TV screen with its
brilliance.

Meanwhile, stay tuned for next week, when Aderyn will write about butt
genies.

-end