Mean_Joe_Weeks

In hindsight, perhaps this movie was doomed from the start. The X-files, aside from being a very popular show, was a very diverse show, able to handle and inhabit many kinds of moods and stories. It has episodes which could be called horror, comedy, sci-fi, romance, fantasy and drama, and did all that while juggling multiple long-term and short-term story arcs and a vast cast of tertiary characters. A lot of people loved the X-files, but a lot of them loved significantly differing things about it. Which was OK in a TV series, which got about 24 chances a season to hit that sweet spot for different kinds of fans.

It was also OK for the first movie, an expensive, successful expansion of the show. That movie, 1998's "Fight The Future" took all that and made it Hollywood. More epic. Bigger action, more set pieces, more overt romance, bigger stakes, bigger explosions. That was at the height of the show (between season 5 and 6) and the movie expanded the long-running mythology of the show into a big, smart sci-fi action adventure. Not rocket science, but a crowd-pleaser, which enough bombast to sell it to all kinds of fans and casual film-goers.

X-files: I want to Believe is not like that at all. And consequently, a lot of people got very angry with it. Rather than bringing everything up to epic levels, this film goes in a different direction. Its a small, intimate, atmospheric and cerebral thriller.

X-files creator Chris Carter has sometimes in the past been the source of some of the series' more awkward material, but here with co-writer Frank Spotnitz he actually crafts a script of uncommon thoughtfulness, matching natural dialog with some rich subtext on the meaning of belief, love, and forgiveness. He's rewarded by fantastic and subtle performances from his two leads, who do work here which stands among the best they've ever done. Gillian Anderson as Scully particularly goes above and beyond, finding deep sadness and complexity in her role (watch her face as she and Mulder talk about his sister... its a conversation they've had a million times in the show, but here it still feels vital because you can actually read that long history on her face. Its not in the dialog, but in the delivery).

Duchovny as Mulder is great too, more world-weary than ever. And Billy Connolly (a strange bit of casting) tackles his complex and disturbing role with heroic dedication. While Amanda Peet and Alvin "Xzibit" Joiner bring little to the table, they're plenty professional and blend effortlessly into the X-files universe.

The real hero, though, is photographer Bill Roe, who does some of the best atmospheric work I've seen in the cinema in some time. Without the benefit of flashy effects or over-the-top scares, Roe milks every shadow for menace, fetishizes every snowflake, and generally creates one of the gloomiest, darkest and coldest palettes ever to grace the silver screen. Nearly every location oozes dread and despair, creating a styled and yet extremely realistic look for the film which never devolves into gimmicks.

If the film has a failing, it is that the drama between the characters and themes is so strong that it overwhelms the story slightly. The main villains, though played effectively, stay at the periphery of the film and never quite become adequate antagonists to our heroes (for some reason, the extended cut with its minor additions of gore seems to up the ante a bit and help ratchet up the menace). The potential mystery of what they are up to is also not really milked for much suspense, nor are the heroes ever in any direct danger until the very end, so the plot can feel kind of inert at times. The macguffin-ish kidnapping plot device works better than it has any right to (thanks to some creepy photography and settings) but since we never get much time with the victims, we can care about their safety only in a pretty general way.

On the other hand, the plot is resolutely unafraid of going pitch black and exploring the ugliest and most depressing aspects it raises. Even if it fails to fully capitalize on its thriller components, it succeeds in keeping a suspenseful, menacing vibe by virtue of its steadfast refusal to offer any of the usual safe clichés. No one is safe, there are no lines which will not be crossed. Its visceral and disturbing, with no easy explanations or cop-outs.

Which is, of course, one of the reasons it has generated so much hostility. It is a thoughtful, uncompromising, and superbly crafted work, which seems bound and determined to avoid spectacle, money shots, and any kind of cheap thrills. What other movie would put such an iconic romance on screen, finally show the two of them in bed together, and then have them talk about... work? There are no aliens, no explosions, no big effects shots, no comic relief, and I don't even think a gun is fired on-screen. Instead, you just get gloom, dread, and a morose exploration of the meaning of belief. Its not a very fun film, in a lot of ways. But it is a very good film, if you're willing to accept it on its own terms. If you go in wanting it to be whatever X-files film you've been imagining for the last six years, you'll no doubt walk away angry. But if you can let it be what it is, you just might find a real unique gem of tension and melancholy, supported by strong performances and a surprising sense of vision. I hope that over time, this film's commitment to doing something adult and intelligent will pay off for the X-files, and they'll get another shot. But even if that never happens, I'll always consider this film an elegant, somber and in some ways remarkable coda to a terrific and groundbreaking series.

Larry Fessenden's "The Last Winter" is a ambitious and smartly made film. It's photographed beautifully and (by and large) acted with conviction and sensitivity. Though the central conceit about nature "taking revenge" is pretty corny, the atmosphere is also pretty compellingly bleak, and the tension mounts pretty effectively as things go from bad to worse. Sadly, as many other reviewers note, the ending throws it all away in a fit of awful CG monsters.

However, try turning it off right at one hour 27 minutes and 30 seconds. This would have been a solid albeit ambiguous ending; if you must watch further do it on a second viewing and consider it a deleted ending. It's just goofy and pointless, and the final "twist" at the end is telegraphed almost from the very beginning (in fact, one character early on describes aloud exactly what the twist will end up being).

Even without the ending, the script has problems with its petty black-and-white portrayal of heroic environmentalist and selfish oil guy. An ensemble atmosphere pic like this lives and dies on the believability of its characters; Perlman's Ed Pollock is simply too villainous to really be convincing, despite a few nice touches of humanity which Perlman brings to him. Le Gros' Hoffman is also a pretty unengaging hero, a blandly heroic saint of a guy who's always right about everything. I'm a serious environmentalist and a left-leaning guy, but the film's literal take on the situation (the dire warnings of natural disaster, the clear heroes and villains) is shallow at best and preachy and patronizing at the worst. It plays to the most obnoxiously self-congratulatory nature of people concerned with the issues presented here, while at the same time offering nothing of any real substance.

Still, the film itself is a pretty fun watch, and a definite step up from Fessenden's previous effort, the ambitious but amateurish "Wendigo" (the titular spirit of which gets name-checked here too!). Great photography combined with naturalistic acting from the likes of Kevin Corrigan and Zach Gilford do much to sell the vibe of the thing, and the setting and slow escalation of the action also add to the experience. Regardless of its stumbles, the film has loads of ambition to do something substantial and enduring, so even when it can't quite deliver on its promise it still beats the slew of cheap-scare horror remakes which every year become more numerous.