Time Machine of Love: 1993

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There comes a point in your life when suddenly things from your youth that had a lasting impact on you start having big “anniversaries.” Case in point: Beyoncé released Beyoncé a decade ago. Sophia Coppolla's Lost In Translation marks its 20th anniversary this year. And I only recently realized that The X-Files, one of the most formative pop-culture influences of my early adolescence, debuted 30 years ago in 1993. I try not to be overly nostalgic, but lately as the view ahead (still) looks bleak and uncertain, I’ve been revisiting bits & pieces of my tiny slice of life in those years gone by. So let’s dial it all the way back to 1993, shall we?

I was in the third grade, Bill Clinton became President, gas cost $1.11 per gallon. Something called the World Wide Web went public at CERN, the ATF killed David Koresh along with many children in Waco, and “don’t ask, don’t tell” became official military policy. Like most 8 year-olds, I was only tangentially aware of these cultural touchstones, apart from perusing my grandmother’s stacks of Newsweek, so I remember this year best through the popular media I absorbed and that sticks with me to this day. Hop in my Time Machine, babes, and revisit my favorite things from 1993 with me.

The X-Files

We all want to believe

When I recently started a selective re-watch of my favorite TV series of all time, I did not realize it premiered 30 years ago this fall. Thirty years! Three whole decades! I loved The X-Files from the moment I started watching, with my entire family oddly enough, on Friday nights before it got big and moved to Sundays. It was appointment viewing for my family, which was slightly weird because our previous go-to shows had been wholesome fare like Lois & Clark and Home Improvement—a far cry from the eerie, moody and often straight-up scary series that intertwined a long-running Alien Conspiracy plot with regular one-off “Monster of the Week” episodes. These were and are my favorites because they deliver more depth and character insight, were often quite funny and less self-serious than conspiracy episodes, and explored a wide breadth of esoteric and paranormal phenomena well beyond little grey men and men in black suits.

Plus, it’s absolutely wild to see just how many episodes went into a full season of network TV back then—the first season of The X-Files had 24 episodes! That’s honestly a feat in and of itself. The second had 25! After those, the seasons went to the standard 20-22 episodes, at least half of which were MOTW. Most series now combine a seasonal story arc with resolved events in individual episodes, and they get 10-12 episodes at MOST to do that. That kind time and space feels luxurious now, without the pressure to drive the binge watches and virality now required of any episodic series today.

The X-Files is also one of the longest-running network sci-fi series at 11 seasons, 200+ episodes, 3 primetime Emmys (21 nominations), and 5 Golden Globes–including a 1996 sweep for Gillian Anderson, David Duchovny, and the show itself for Best Drama Series (which it actually won three times: for the debut season and seasons 3 - 4, which are objectively the best seasons, do not even attempt to @ me). It’s fascinating now to go back and see just how well-made The X-Files was, too: the cinematography is sharp and impressive, Mark Snow’s iconic theme song and music still hit, and while some CGI effects look cheesy now and some prosthetics did not age well for HD, it was basically revolutionary to see this kind of love and effort put into a standard network drama thirty years ago, and on FOX, no less.

I’m working on a rundown of my top The X-Files episodes, but if I had to pick one for a newbie to watch, it would be “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose” (S03, E04), which earned guest star Peter Boyle and writer Darin Morgan Emmys as well. It's widely considered one of the best of the series, but I have a couple I think are better. Stay tuned (or better yet, subscribed)!

Meat Loaf - "I Would Do Anything for Love"

Except that, of course

I will be 100% blunt—I knew fuckall about Meat Loaf in 1993. I hadn’t seen Rocky Horror yet, and had only heard “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” a few times on my dad’s classic rock radio. But when those opening piano scales came blazing out of the basic Top 40 station my mom & I listened to, I sat up and paid attention. A tender, fragile male vocal wafts in and intensifies as the song changes tempo and keys, a roller coaster of emotion taking hold of my tender brain and refusing to let go. I wasn't allowed to watch MTV then, but somehow the baroque, bombastic candle-lit video is seared into my consciousness as well. Who was this large, odd-looking man who could belt like nobody’s business? I’ve always loved rock & roll tenors (Freddie Mercury, Steve Perry, et al) who can deliver shivers with a well-placed wail, and this song firmly cemented Meat Loaf in that echelon for me.

I hadn’t listened to “I Would Do Anything” in ages when I heard Meat Loaf died last year, and I immediately played the extended album version on a loop for several many days. All those early pre-adolescent feels came rushing back with every crescendo and key change, every tremble in the vocal. I seriously considered finally becoming a drag king so I could perform it for an audience (still an option tbh). I learned the song's composer Jim Steinman also wrote “Total Eclipse of the Heart” and Celine Dion’s seminal power ballad “It’s All Coming Back," along with many other big, cringe-y pop songs I later pretended not to like so I would hopefully be perceived as an “alternative” girl, whatever the hell that meant.

The word is played out entirely, but I can’t think of anything more accurate than “epic” to describe “I Would Do Anything For Love;” it has movements like a symphony, a layered narrative of pain and possibility, and immediately brings up whatever intense emotion is currently simmering beneath your skin: longing, desire, passion, regret, hope. I didn’t have the words for all of that back in 1993, but “I Would Do Anything” made me understand just how a single song could dig up and drive at those parts of yourself, whether you want it to or not.

The Secret Garden

Merchant Ivory for precocious pre-teens? Yes, please!

Given my penchant for big, baroque rock balladry as an 8 year-old, it should not surprise you that one of my favorite movies from 1993 was The Secret Garden. The story of a moody orphan heroine, a spooky gothic manor and a spoiled brat all made whole and hearty with some much needed fresh air and sunshine still resonates for me even now, but what impresses me more is the quality and effort put into what could have easily been a cheapo direct-to-VHS kids’ movie. Francis Ford Coppola produced it, however, so the cinematography is gorgeous and sweeping, the young actors are actually talented and naturalistic (Rickon was definitely one of my earliest fictional crushes), sets and costumes all minutely detailed, and the score brings it all together for an excellent film that happens to be based on a Victorian novel for children.

Directed by Agnieszka Holland with a screenplay by Caroline Thompson (who also wrote Edward Scissorhands, The Addams Family, Homeward Bound, and The Nightmare Before Christmas aka most of my childhood faves), The Secret Garden has that lingering meditative sense of many 80's and 90's European films, but not so much that it becomes a bore or a chore to sit through. It’s a quiet, pensive, and imaginative movie that I adored as a quiet, pensive, and imaginative girl. A Little Princess followed a few years later, crafted with equal care and directed by Alfonso Cuarón in his American debut, but it felt almost too American, to be frank–too glossy and pretty compared to the creeping gloom and subtle blooming of The Secret Garden. If you’re a Millennial and you don’t remember watching this in school when you had a sub in English class, do yourself a favor and give it a go.

Janet Jackson, janet.

A pre-teen pre-awakening

Wait, did I say I was quiet and pensive back in 1993? Well I was, sure, but I also wanted to be a backup dancer for Janet Jackson in a cropped vest with no shirt underneath, so don’t try to act like kids aren’t complex little weirdos just like us adults. I got janet. on tape for my 9th birthday, right before we moved mid-school year for my dad’s work, and it felt like a bridge towards that next double-digit milestone that loomed large in my overactive imagination. Much as I loved every single from Rhythm Nation, this was the first Janet album I actually owned and listened to on repeat, front to back, for several months.

janet. introduced a more soulful and sultry sound as Jackson leaned into her femininity and sensuality with the classic “That’s the Way Love Goes,” the absolute banger “If,” and the iconic “Any Time, Any Place,” which was probably not the best track for someone under age 10 to listen to so often, but I turned out okay (mostly). Listening to it now, thirty years later, I still like the sharp edges and precise production of Rhythm Nation more than janet.’s softer slinkiness, but it is a perfect encapsulation of a young artist evolving her sound and earning well-deserved recognition as a result. This album absolutely cemented Janet Jackson as an icon in her own right, stepping into her sunshine, far from her brothers’ shadows.

Jurassic Park

I'm with Dr. Malcolm on this one...

You can’t talk about 1993 and not talk about Jurassic Park. You just...can’t. It's like, the rules of internet writing. Irregardless: Jurassic Park is a perfect movie, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Fortunately, this is one of the last few things just about everyone can agree on, so hopefully I never have to actually resort to fisticuffs.

First and foremost, Jurassic Park is one of the purest examples of a good PG-13 movie: menacing and scary enough to raise your heart rate and make you jump, but not graphic or gory enough to scar you for life. For me, Steven Spielberg is at his best when he keeps the scary stuff just out of sight, cloaked in fog and dramatic lighting and sound effects, letting your own mind do the heavy lifting for him. The opening scene is pure B-movie horror camp, all Dutch angles and screaming sound effects, and Spielberg really is fantastic at integrating scenes of deep dread (the kitchen!) and abject terror (the T-Rex with the Jeep!) into his usual adventure-movie approach.

On top of that, Jurassic Park has some decent humor, provided mostly by near-peak Jeff Goldblum (he wasn’t fully ripe until Independence Day imo) as chaotician Dr. Ian Malcolm. His diatribe against Hammond and his scientists hits WAY different these days, and Goldblum's wry charm and glistening chest manage to keep Malcolm from being an actual creep. The science fiction of it all is supported by just enough science fact to be truly chilling, and the groundbreaking CGI is bolstered by skilled practical effects that keep everything looking seamless and effortless. It's one of the few movies actually does have a little something for everyone: dinosaurs both cute and terrifying, a southern-drawling animated DNA strand (dinah-saAURs!), a cute paleontologist nerd couple, insidious greed and corporate espionage, computer "hackers" (lol), and Samuel L. Jackson delivering the only one-liner that matters, and twice in the same movie at that.

Above all, the OG Jurassic Park feels more organic and less forced than much of our modern algorithmically-driven entertainment units. This sensibility has ruined the rest of the movies in the franchise with their increasing ridiculousness and lack of any human connection beyond the cash grab. If you want to understand the difference between art and content, watch Jurassic Park, and then watch 2015’s Jurassic World—the difference in genuine quality is disappointing but not at all surprising. I’ve had my fill of those hideous sequels, but the original classic that blew our little Millennial minds thirty years ago is still an absolute delight.

1993 Honorable Mentions

• The Piano: I didn’t see this until I was in high school, but hot DAMN I’ve never looked at Harvey Keitel the same way since. Sam Neill was in this as well as Jurassic Park in 1993–and boy oh boy did he have the range!
• Rocko’s Modern Life: I wasn’t allowed to watch Ren & Stimpy during the SNICK golden era, which I didn’t mind much, but it's amazing my parents figured Rocko was any less rude. Even as a kid, the episode about Heiffer, a male cow raised by wolves, somehow getting milked made me cackle internally. And Filburt's wife was a dentist cat-type lady with a hook for a hand? So weird and apparently deliberatively provocative, but so good.
• The Giver by Lois Lowry: Let’s pretend that the movie was never made and just act like The Giver is the simple, powerful and important standalone speculative young adult novel it was always meant to be. I re-read it before I watched the movie, and it is still just as striking and impactful now as it was three decades ago.

Back to the Future, Pt. Links

• 👶🏻 A 45 year-old tech bro is spending $2M a year to make himself physically 18 again. I’d rather be 25 at least so my brain would be fully developed, and I’d have a semblance of good taste and/or self-awareness, but that’s just me. Also the fact that ole boy still has to dye his hair like the rest of of us poors because he can’t reverse its graying is the kind of schadenfreude that feeds my soul.
• 🤡 Should we be concerned about people who don’t read books? (Yes.)
• 🍄 Fungi are finally being recognized as the menace to human existence they are. If you’re already familiar with The Last of Us show/video game and loathe fungus as much as I do (it's honestly kind of irrational), I highly recommend The Girl With All the Gifts, the book and the movie.
• 💩 I’m calling it—2023’s word of the year is going to be “enshittification.” Bless you, Cory Doctorow, for this benediction we didn't know we needed.

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Until next week, consider yeeting yourself into space, get Lydia Tàr's take on her bio pic's 6 Oscar nomintions, and avoid anyone of any gender who's into this updated list of red-flag movies.

Yours only somewhat nostalgically,
LKH