When he wrote "The Goldberg Variation," Jeffrey Bell was taking his chances. Still a relative newcomer to the series, his fate as a writer would be determined by the effect of this episode. He had gotten lucky with his first attempt, "Rain King," but seemed to have his shoelace stuck in the ceiling fan with his second, "Alpha." Only another try could possibly redeem him. If he could succeed once more, he might finally be viewed as a capable, intelligent writer...that, or the luckiest man in the world.

"What if he got really, really lucky? That's your big scientific explanation Scully?"

Each writer on The X-Files staff has their own specialty. Chris Carter has his monologues, Vince Gilligan his flair for Mulder and Scully's relationship, and John Shiban his killer kitties. Though Jeff Bell has only written three episodes, his trademark is already becoming clear. He is by far the blithest writer on the X- Files payroll, adding to every episode his own distinctive touch of sweetness. His characters are socially inept (but benevolent) losers placed in romantic melodramas, a setting in which Mulder and Scully always seem to be anomalously happy. Yet as "nice" as these episodes may be, they can be a bit much for a viewer to take after a while. I'm an incurable sweet tooth, but the sugary trend of last season was even beginning to make me ill. So far the seventh season appears to be taking a different route, however. In episodes such as "Millennium" and "Rush" it moved back to its dark, wet, flashlight-illuminated roots. Therefore, I found this brief divergence from spooky to heart-warming to be a pleasant change. Besides, it suits Jeff Bell much better than any formula monster show he might try to churn out. But last year's cavity is still fresh in my mind. As much as I enjoyed this light-hearted side track, I can only hope that this season the classic X-File (if one can pin down such a thing anymore) will win out.

"I'll take my chances."

The biggest gamble "The Goldberg Variation" took was with its storyline. Everything about this episode was predictable. Many of the plot twists could be prognosticated by more than just a lucky guess. So it turns out one of the mob guys has the same rare blood type as the little boy in desperate need of a liver transplant. What a surprise. And Henry's knife? Placed in just the right spot to save him from being shot. Wow. In any other setting, this would have disappointed me. Mulder and Scully's many ill-timed exits seemed more worthy of a soap opera than an X-File. But it fit so well into the theme of the episode that instead of being annoyed, I was amused. In Henry Weems' world, predictability is a way of life. Everything's logical. If there is a cause, there must be an effect. Why is the luckiest man in the world working as a superintendent? Because he wants to keep a low profile and thus avoid...pushing his luck. Then why does he suddenly decide to play poker with very unhappy looking men and end up getting thrown off the side of the building? Because he needs money to help a sick friend. As Scully so sincerely stated at the end of the episode, transforming a cliché into a serious contemplation of the human condition by a simple look, "Maybe everything does have a reason." Welcome to Earth, third rock from the sun.

"Cause...and effect."

Now, one could say all sorts of suggestive things with the words "Mulder," "Scully," and "getting lucky," but as this is a family webpage, I shall refrain. ;) Bad jokes aside, these two and their flirtatiously enigmatic relationship really brightened this episode. From Mulder's carefully choreographed elevator entrance onward, the tone between them was teasingly coy. These gentle mockeries went both ways, Mulder ridiculing Scully's "big scientific explanation" (i.e. "I don't know. What if he just got lucky?"), and Scully attempting not to laugh at her plumber partner as she peered through the "Mulder-sized hole." Even the normally altruistic Scully couldn't refrain from slighting poor Henry Weems' optical impairment. ("Maybe he can't see his way to the door.") She made up for this lack of concern later with her mothering attention towards Richie, but at the time, her unconcern amazed me. What didn't suprise me was her free and open smile as seen through the hospital window at the conclusion of the episode. That seemed completely natural. It may have taken her a long time to get to this point, but the result is most uplifting. Scully seemed almost happy. [gasp!] When I see them so, these brief moments of flirtatiousness can seem more rewarding than any emotional hallway exchange... [pause] Okay, I take that back. I mean, what could compare to Mulder's desperate plea in "Fight the Future," or Scully's tear-filled confession in "Amor Fati"? However, these short vingettes are spontaneous, and perhaps more indicative of their true feelings. Still, I can only wonder if the sudden alteration in Scully's mood has anything to do with a certain New Year's gift... I didn't notice a time stamp on this episode, so I suppose that mystery is left to our overactive imaginations. :)

"Come on Scully. I'm feeling lucky."

It must have been our lucky day. In a rare and delightful display of solidarity, "The Goldberg Variation" found Mulder and Scully working completely in unison on a case. They shared ideas and saved the day together, both enthusiasticly involved in their work. This excitement translated to the viewer, and when combined with an original script, good supporting characters, and a season shaping up to be the best in recent history, created a most enjoyable episode. The proof is in - Jeff Bell has more than just beginner's luck. QED.

"And all is right in the world."

Notes:

--If you're wondering where "The Goldberg Variation" got its name from, Rube Goldberg was a turn of the century cartoonist whose drawings depicted elaborate devices used to do simple tasks, not unlike Henry Weems' hangman and basketball gadgets.

--I particulary enjoyed Mark Snow's music in this episode, notably the elevator music in the teaser. Perfect for the slow ride to the roof - innocent like the main character, but with a menacing edge - it effectively enhanced the moment.

--I'm not usually one to get hung up on wardrobe - it's the characters that interest me, not their fashion sense, though one could argue we are what we wear. However, I can't help but notice Scully's recent fetish for black outfits. Even the color-blind Mulder is beginning to pick up on it. I just wish he wouldn't encourage her... "Hey, nice outfit."

--After that poor show of his plumbing abilities, I bet Mulder wished he'd spent more time practicing his handy-man skills than reading books on the occult and attending UFO conferences...

--Less than impressed with Henry's bruise, Mulder and Scully's nonchalant expressions quickly changed when he performed a little occular transplant right in front of them.

--As a physics major, I quite enjoyed Mulder's exuberant shoelace-caught-in-the-ceiling-fan proof. And he thought Scully was a math geek... ;)

--The writers seemed to be toying with us as much as the characters. The way Scully spoke about getting home to D.C. before sunset along with a throwaway line about Richie's favourite sport ("I like baseball too.") was very bad for our eager little minds.

--I found it decidely ironic that Scully, the world's most lucklessly fortuitous woman, should beat Henry Weems at Mulder's card game. She seems to have the worst luck, yet always manages to survive and still find some happiness. It's as much a paradox as her senior thesis

--To think that "nice" episodes with happy endings used to be such a rarity I almost fell out of my seat with incredulity at the end of "Post-Modern Prometheus." Mulder and Scully can smile?!?

--One little tip for future episodes - when you mention Depends, the audience knows the humour is going down the toilet. ;)

--Remember this snippet from season three? "If coincidences are just coincidences, then why do they feel so contrived?" Clyde Bruckman would have felt right at home.

--A song for "The Goldberg Variation":

Cause and effect, chain of events,
All of the chaos makes perfect sense.
When you're standing 'round, things come undone.
Welcome to earth, third rock from the sun.
-Joe Diffie, "Third Rock From the Sun"