DANA SCULLY IS a dissenter and a liar and a mole. At the inception of her myth, she sits in a room full of men, taking orders. They have decided to package her up as a bride-gift and send her down to the dungeon. Arrogance and naivety bring her to the brink of laughter: ‘Am I to understand that you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir?’

A few days later, a storm takes out the electricity at a motel in Oregon. Her target is modest; he allows her to shelter in his room but sits on the floor while she takes the bed. The chiaroscuro of the shutters dissects his face as he offers a more dangerous intimacy: the truth.