X-FILES: I WANT TO BELIEVE (2008) is the second X-Files film, based on the television series. Its release (due out July 2008) has been anticipated since 2001.
12/08/09 | Film

X-Files: I Want to Believe

by David Gianatasio

I wanted to believe in Santa Claus, but just couldn’t convince myself the jolly fat man was real. I decked the halls—well, my bedroom, at any rate—with tinsel and ornaments and cardboard cutouts of old Saint Nick. He never showed up. That Christmas, I got mostly socks, even though I’d asked for the giant Godzilla with the spring-launched claw-missile. I also got a Batman alarm clock, which was cool, but it always ran 10 minutes fast.

I wanted to believe in the Easter Bunny. I painted three-dozen eggs phosphorescent primary colors and deposited them in our backyard. Then I sat in the grass and waited. After an hour, it began to rain. The bunny never showed up. The next day, the yard smelled like runny omelets and a trio of ticks had attached themselves to my right calf. My dad explained that burning ticks with a lighter was the only sure way of getting rid of them. My dad had painful rules for most things in life. He’d one a hitch in ‘Nam—maybe that explains it.

There was a rumor going around school that Elvis Presley hadn’t really died, but was hiding out in the guise of our new gym teacher. The guy was at least 10 years too young to be Elvis, and he looked nothing like any version of the King I’d ever seen—not even Fat Old Elvis in his Vegas days. His name was Mr. Presley. I think that’s how the rumor began. One day I asked him to sing a few bars of Love Me Tender. He told me to “go climb a rope,” as was his prerogative. He’s long retired, but I run into him at the supermarket sometimes. We both avoid eye contact and rush to different aisles.

I wanted to believe in the Tooth Fairy. That might sound odd, but this took place during a particularly raucous party at which large amounts of alcohol were consumed. I woke up on the floor with throbbing pain in my mouth. It took me a full 20 minutes to notice the molar dangling from a piece of string tied to the knob of the closet door. “The tooth is out there,” I said, without really thinking. I hate puns like that.

Back in the ’90s, when David Duchovny was a big star, people said I resembled him. That was great—because at the time, he had Vanity-Fair-GQ-Cover-Model good looks. My conclusion: People think I look like David Duchovny, there is a God. These days, now that he’s kinda funny looking, people still say I resemble the guy. My conclusion: People think I look like David Duchovny, there is no God.

One day, when he’s not famous anymore and therefore easily approachable, I’m going to ask David Duchovny if he believes in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Elvis, God—or me.