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Vince Gilligan’s Haunting “Night Stalker” Episode Bridges the Gap Between “The X-Files” and “Better Call Saul”

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Vince Gilligan’s sole script on the 2005 ‘Night Stalker’ reboot is the perfect stepping stone between the writer’s two television universes.

“There are countless stories in the city, about the lives lived here, about how the fates of others intertwine with our own in ways we can never expect or predict.”

The X-Files was one of the most significant cultural touchstones to come out of the 1990s and it forever changed the shape of genre storytelling on television. Breaking Bad and its prequel spin-off series, Better Call Saul, have very much done the same for television in the 2010s and ‘20s, albeit in very different ways. Vince Gilligan is the common factor between these completely unique worlds, but he also wrote a single episode of 2005’s reboot of the totemic supernatural procedural series, Kolchak: The Night Stalker.  

If The X-Files is about the pursuit of the truth and Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul examine the interconnected butterfly effect of the world, then Night Stalker fits neatly in between with a supernatural story where the truth remains nebulous and at the discretion of the viewer, all while reflecting the cause and effect of seemingly innocuous actions. The episode of Night Stalker, What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?”, doesn’t just bridge the gap between Gilligan’s two major television universes, but it also speaks to his evolution as a writer as he reconciles his interests between pulpy horror and high-tension existential chaos. 

Vince Gilligan’s origins with The X-Files go all the way back to the show’s second season before he would be hired as a permanent part of the staff and go on to pen 29 installments as well as co-create the short-lived Lone Gunmen spin-off. Gilligan became a vital voice in the evolution of The X-Files, a series which in itself was deeply indebted to Kolchak: The Night Stalker from the 1970s. Jeff Rice’s Kolchak left an indelible mark on the science-fiction, horror, and mystery genres through its supernatural Columbo-esque investigative reporter, played to perfection by Darren McGavin. Kolchak’s examination of the supernatural is a clear precursor to The X-Files and Chris Carter even attempted to have the character properly crossover to work on a case with Mulder and Scully. 

It’s significant that Carl Kolchak was an investigative reporter, as opposed to a detective, and that he’s driven forward by a pursuit of the truth and an obligation to inform the public, an ideology that would later be echoed through The X-Files’ “The Truth is Out There” mantra. Kolchak: The Night Stalker would even give David Chase his first professional writing credit. One could argue that the “Bad Man” archetype that Chase popularized with The Sopranos, which certainly carries over through the chiral reaction of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, is first experimented with through the flawed Carl Kolchak.

The influence of Kolchak on The X-Files makes it quite fitting that The X-Files’ Frank Spotnitz was put in charge of a Night Stalker reboot in 2005. Not only could Spotnitz bring Kolchak back for a new generation, but he could also apply what he learned on The X-Files to help the ‘70s vehicle evolve. Spotnitz recruited many of his strongest collaborators from The X-Files over to Night Stalker, including Vince Gilligan, who was responsible for some of the series’ most dour standalone installments, like “Pusher,” “Drive,” and “Folie à Deux,” as well as several of the silliest stories, such as “Bad Blood,” “The Unusual Suspects,” and the body-swapping two-parter, “Dreamland.” 

Gilligan’s episodes often dealt with “signal interruptions” where miscommunications lead into dangerous scenarios. Even Gilligan’s unproduced X-Files episodes, which included a crossover with Unsolved Mysteries and a booby-trapped Tilt-A-Whirl, deal with ideas that exist in this fluctuating state between extreme order and utter chaos, and what happens when these lines become blurred. It’s this rich territory that becomes the focus in Gilligan’s lone Night Stalker script, “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” If The X-Files presented a very ‘90s-centric perspective on conspiracy theories, then Gilligan helps the subject matter mature through his Night Stalker episode and continues to push it even further in his latest works.

[Related] Vince Gilligan’s Next Series Being Compared to “The X-Files” and “The Twilight Zone”

The Night Stalker episode, “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” looks at a troubled man named Paul Krieger (Pat Healy) who’s been kidnapping individuals and seemingly feeding them to the monster–his “Old Man”–that lives in one of his rooms. Krieger’s hunt to sate this demon eventually leads to the kidnapping of Carl Kolchak (Stuart Townsend), who Krieger believes has been communicating with him through coded messages in his newspaper articles. Krieger views Kolchak as the only thing that stands between him and the “Answer” that will allow him to permanently escape this hypothetical monster. Meanwhile, Kolchak racks his brain to determine what’s actually in Krieger’s backroom–if anything–or what internally plagues his captor’s mind.

Kolchak walks Krieger through all of the textbook explanations of what’s going on here, but “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” makes sure to also carefully entertain the possibility that Krieger isn’t mentally disturbed at all, just consumed by tremendous guilt over the killing of his grandparents. In reality, nothing is truly keeping Paul hostage in this house and he’s able to leave at any point, provided that he can get out of his own way. It’s almost the type of revelation that would bookend an episode of Millennium, Chris Carter’s other supernatural procedural series from the ‘90s, one of which Gilligan didn’t get a chance to write for. 

“What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” goes out on a powerful conclusion where Kolchak experiences his own hallucinations or dissociative fugue state, which obfuscates any firm answers regarding what’s happened. There is seemingly no demon in Krieger’s room, but the corresponding fear that’s associated with it is still intense enough to end his life when he’s forced to confront it. The “Old Man” wins, regardless of whether he’s real or not. 

Similarly, Krieger laments how he literally can’t escape his home and the possessive hold that the Old Man has over him. However, such “impossible escapes” become central for all of Gilligan’s protagonists: Mulder can’t escape his pursuit of the truth. Walter can’t escape his death sentence and march towards financial solvency. And Jimmy can’t escape falling deeper into his fabricated Saul Goodman persona and the Russian nesting doll of identities that follow. They all have their metaphorical Old Men who pull the strings.

The X-Files, Breaking Bad, and Better Call Saul are all, on some level, about how to apply order to chaos in an increasingly erratic world. Night Stalker, much like Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, is fascinated by the extreme dualities that exist inside everyone, only the latter two don’t contain any literal demons. X-Files and Night Stalker actively prove or disprove monsters, whereas Breaking Bad uses science to problem solve and grow, while Better Call Saul continues to explore the debilitating butterfly effect of the universe. 

The X-Files would frequently pull from real-life events for its weekly horrors, which Gilligan resorts to here for his Night Stalker script. “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” earns its namesake through an actual accident that plagued Dan Rather. Rather was subjected to a random attack where a troubled individual incessantly asked him, “Kenneth, what is the frequency?”, convinced that television broadcasts were being used to transmit him a secret message. This paranoia and confusion ultimately resulted in the death of an innocent NBC stagehand and became the inspiration for Paul Krieger’s attack on Kolchak (as well as a popular R.E.M. song). “I don’t know why it happened,” mused Rather when reflecting upon the attack. “I may never know.” It’s not hard to picture this same admission driving forward all of Gilligan’s protagonists while they fight for the truth.

In drawing from this real event, Gilligan’s Night Stalker episode attempts to make sense of this bizarre tragedy. It offers an answer for the universe’s chaos. So much of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul deal with characters who engage in seemingly strange behavior, only for the collective impact of these series to effectively make sense of their decisions and the path that they’re on. ”What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” triggers this butterfly effect as Kolchak and Krieger learn that they’ve been subconsciously in conversation with each other for a while. The universe has set them on overlapping paths, even if they’ve been completely unaware of the other. Years later, Gilligan would set Walter White and Jimmy McGill on a comparable journey.

“What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” is arguably the strongest episode of The Night Stalker, but the impressive entry didn’t even air during the series’ original broadcast. Cancelled after six episodes, “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” would eventually hit television on SyFy through The Night Stalker’s syndication package, but it’s tragic that most audiences wouldn’t see this standout installment. “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” provides a glimpse of where The Night Stalker could have gone, but it’s also a piece of horror television that’s intrinsically connected to Better Call Saul, not just on a thematic and storytelling level, but when it comes to explicit connections. 

The best performance in “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” comes from its central guest star, Pat Healy, who goes on to play a crucial role in the final story arc of Better Call Saul. The episode also marks the first collaboration between Gilligan and director Colin Bucksey, who would go on to direct multiple episodes of both Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. The shorthand that the pair establish here becomes a valuable tool as Gilligan goes on to expand his capabilities and progressively verge outside of the horror genre. 

“What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” ends with Kolchak shaken and confused, more so than usual, and genuinely uncertain over what he’s experienced. It’s telling that this is the only episode of the series that features an opening and closing narration by Kolchak’s partner, Perri Reed (Gabrielle Union), rather than Kolchak himself. He’s not allowed to reflect on these transformative events and the series instead uses his co-worker to process this experience through Kolchak’s fragmentation. 

Night Stalker didn’t last long enough for Kolchak to have much of a fully realized arc, but it’s easy to picture the events of “What’s the Frequency, Kolchak?” acting as the catalyst for the character to entertain some dark ideas. That’s not to say that Kolchak would have completely “broken bad,” but Gilligan later demonstrates the full cumulative impact of these destabilizing incidents through Breaking Bad’s Walter White and Better Call Saul’s Jimmy McGill. Carl Kolchak is left in doubt if Satan resides in a light switch behind a closed door, but Walt and Jimmy fully understand that the one who knocks can be even more destructive than whatever horrors lie on the other side.  

Vince Gilligan’s episode of ‘Night Stalker’ is available to stream for free on ABC.com, and can be rented or bought via Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, and Vudu

Daniel Kurland is a freelance writer, comedian, and critic, whose work can be read on Splitsider, Bloody Disgusting, Den of Geek, ScreenRant, and across the Internet. Daniel knows that "Psycho II" is better than the original and that the last season of "The X-Files" doesn't deserve the bile that it conjures. If you want a drink thrown in your face, talk to him about "Silent Night, Deadly Night Part II," but he'll always happily talk about the "Puppet Master" franchise. The owls are not what they seem.

Editorials

‘A Haunted House’ and the Death of the Horror Spoof Movie

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Due to a complex series of anthropological mishaps, the Wayans Brothers are a huge deal in Brazil. Around these parts, White Chicks is considered a national treasure by a lot of people, so it stands to reason that Brazilian audiences would continue to accompany the Wayans’ comedic output long after North America had stopped taking them seriously as comedic titans.

This is the only reason why I originally watched Michael Tiddes and Marlon Wayans’ 2013 horror spoof A Haunted House – appropriately known as “Paranormal Inactivity” in South America – despite having abandoned this kind of movie shortly after the excellent Scary Movie 3. However, to my complete and utter amazement, I found myself mostly enjoying this unhinged parody of Found Footage films almost as much as the iconic spoofs that spear-headed the genre during the 2000s. And with Paramount having recently announced a reboot of the Scary Movie franchise, I think this is the perfect time to revisit the divisive humor of A Haunted House and maybe figure out why this kind of film hasn’t been popular in a long time.

Before we had memes and internet personalities to make fun of movie tropes for free on the internet, parody movies had been entertaining audiences with meta-humor since the very dawn of cinema. And since the genre attracted large audiences without the need for a serious budget, it made sense for studios to encourage parodies of their own productions – which is precisely what happened with Miramax when they commissioned a parody of the Scream franchise, the original Scary Movie.

The unprecedented success of the spoof (especially overseas) led to a series of sequels, spin-offs and rip-offs that came along throughout the 2000s. While some of these were still quite funny (I have a soft spot for 2008’s Superhero Movie), they ended up flooding the market much like the Guitar Hero games that plagued video game stores during that same timeframe.

You could really confuse someone by editing this scene into Paranormal Activity.

Of course, that didn’t stop Tiddes and Marlon Wayans from wanting to make another spoof meant to lampoon a sub-genre that had been mostly overlooked by the Scary Movie series – namely the second wave of Found Footage films inspired by Paranormal Activity. Wayans actually had an easier time than usual funding the picture due to the project’s Found Footage presentation, with the format allowing for a lower budget without compromising box office appeal.

In the finished film, we’re presented with supposedly real footage recovered from the home of Malcom Johnson (Wayans). The recordings themselves depict a series of unexplainable events that begin to plague his home when Kisha Davis (Essence Atkins) decides to move in, with the couple slowly realizing that the difficulties of a shared life are no match for demonic shenanigans.

In practice, this means that viewers are subjected to a series of familiar scares subverted by wacky hijinks, with the flick featuring everything from a humorous recreation of the iconic fan-camera from Paranormal Activity 3 to bizarre dance numbers replacing Katy’s late-night trances from Oren Peli’s original movie.

Your enjoyment of these antics will obviously depend on how accepting you are of Wayans’ patented brand of crass comedy. From advanced potty humor to some exaggerated racial commentary – including a clever moment where Malcom actually attempts to move out of the titular haunted house because he’s not white enough to deal with the haunting – it’s not all that surprising that the flick wound up with a 10% rating on Rotten Tomatoes despite making a killing at the box office.

However, while this isn’t my preferred kind of humor, I think the inherent limitations of Found Footage ended up curtailing the usual excesses present in this kind of parody, with the filmmakers being forced to focus on character-based comedy and a smaller scale story. This is why I mostly appreciate the love-hate rapport between Kisha and Malcom even if it wouldn’t translate to a healthy relationship in real life.

Of course, the jokes themselves can also be pretty entertaining on their own, with cartoony gags like the ghost getting high with the protagonists (complete with smoke-filled invisible lungs) and a series of silly The Exorcist homages towards the end of the movie. The major issue here is that these legitimately funny and genre-specific jokes are often accompanied by repetitive attempts at low-brow humor that you could find in any other cheap comedy.

Not a good idea.

Not only are some of these painfully drawn out “jokes” incredibly unfunny, but they can also be remarkably offensive in some cases. There are some pretty insensitive allusions to sexual assault here, as well as a collection of secondary characters defined by negative racial stereotypes (even though I chuckled heartily when the Latina maid was revealed to have been faking her poor English the entire time).

Cinephiles often claim that increasingly sloppy writing led to audiences giving up on spoof movies, but the fact is that many of the more beloved examples of the genre contain some of the same issues as later films like A Haunted House – it’s just that we as an audience have (mostly) grown up and are now demanding more from our comedy. However, this isn’t the case everywhere, as – much like the Elves from Lord of the Rings – spoof movies never really died, they simply diminished.

A Haunted House made so much money that they immediately started working on a second one that released the following year (to even worse reviews), and the same team would later collaborate once again on yet another spoof, 50 Shades of Black. This kind of film clearly still exists and still makes a lot of money (especially here in Brazil), they just don’t have the same cultural impact that they used to in a pre-social-media-humor world.

At the end of the day, A Haunted House is no comedic masterpiece, failing to live up to the laugh-out-loud thrills of films like Scary Movie 3, but it’s also not the trainwreck that most critics made it out to be back in 2013. Comedy is extremely subjective, and while the raunchy humor behind this flick definitely isn’t for everyone, I still think that this satirical romp is mostly harmless fun that might entertain Found Footage fans that don’t take themselves too seriously.

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