Six years after FBI agents Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson), who were thrown together to investigate cases that defied (or seemed to defy) ordinary explanations, abandoned the so-called "x-files" division, their lives have gone in very different directions. Scully, the skeptical doctor whose Catholic faith was sorely tested by some of the cases she and Scully investigated, is now a staff physician at Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital and is deeply involved in the case of a young patient with a fatal genetic disorder. Mulder – blackballed by his former employers and officially a fugitive – has gone to ground and spends his days studying offbeat newspaper stories in the shadow of his iconic "I Want to Believe" poster. The abduction of an FBI agent in West Virginia brings them back into the fold via ambitious agent Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet). Painfully aware that the clock is ticking for the missing woman, Agent Whitney's best lead is Father Joseph Fitzpatrick Crissman (Billy Connelly), a deeply compromised priest who claims to have visions and has inexplicably led them to their best clue yet: A neatly severed arm buried in the snow – granted, it's a man's arm and Whitney's task force can't begin to imagine what it has to do with the case, but it's all they have. Is Crissman genuinely psychic and, if so, could a true believer like Mulder tease enough concrete information from his vague and ambiguous paranormal insights to rescue the missing woman? Or does Crissman have some mundane connection to the case the FBI hasn't yet uncovered, one he's consciously or unconsciously mining for some perverse reason?

Series creator Chris Carter and longtime collaborator Frank Spotnitz (Carter directed and they co-wrote the screenplay) focus heavily on Mulder and Scully's thorny relationship, forged in the fire of horrific shared experience and doomed by their fundamental incompatibility: She skeptical to the bone and he's looking for proof that there are more things in heaven and earth than science can explain. Their simmering romance, rooted in friendship and intellectual curiosity, drove the series: Monsters of the week get old fast, which is one reason Kolchak: The Night Stalker, the 1970s series Carter claimed as his inspiration for The X-Files, burned out after 20 episodes. But without that background, their poignant reunion takes a backseat to long and none-too-subtle conversations about faith and belief. The Carter and Spotnitz's credit, such weighty concerns aren't the stuff of most mainstream genre movies. But they're also not sufficiently gripping to transform a middling thriller into something truly provocative or haunting. --Maitland McDonagh

Millionaire Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) continues to live his double life as the crusading Batman, but at an ever-escalating personal cost: He's displaced and all but alone. Wayne Manor has been burned to the ground, forcing him into an anonymous high-rise apartment, and childhood sweetheart Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal, taking over from the vapid Katie Holmes) has taken up with crusading district attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) who's conducting his war on crime, by the book and in the bright light of day. Faithful butler Albert (Michael Caine) and Wayne Industries' factotum Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) continue to support Bruce's lonely battle against criminals, but Gotham City is still overrun with warring gangs. Public opinion regarding the dark angel is polarized -- grassroots champion of the average citizen or dangerous vigilante? – and the headline-grabbing exploits of a pack of untrained, hot-headed imitators who've sprung up in the Batman's shadow only muddy the waters further. Succumbing to the unrelenting pressure, Batman and longtime ally Lieutenant Gordon (Gary Oldman) agree to work with Dent, an arrangement that brings impressive short-term results but sets the stage for an anarchic reign of terror orchestrated by the wild card in the underworld deck: The Joker (Ledger). Having made himself persona non grata among thieves by robbing the banks that launder and safeguard their ill-gotten gains, the Joker then proposes that they all work together to take back the night.

Written by Nolan and his brother, Jonathan (David S. Goyer gets co-story credit), the film juggles multiple intertwined narratives – Batman's dark night of the soul, the Joker's machinations, the rise and fall of Dent, the criminal super-alliance – without feeling bloated or unfocused; its 142 minutes fly by. Nolan stages some stunning action sequences – the opening heist is worthy of Michael Mann – and maintains a convincing atmosphere of apocalyptic paranoia; Gotham City is under siege, people are genuinely frightened and life-or-death situations can go either way. But most importantly, he gives his top-notch cast plenty of room to breathe and inhabit their characters. That Ledger stands out in such a powerhouse ensemble is a tribute to his radically unhinged interpretation of a familiar character: The lank hair tinged seaweed green, the darting tongue and faint lisp that call constant attention to the ghastly rictus of his mouth, the nightmarishly smudged make up… taken together, they make previous Jokers feel like, well, jokes. --Maitland McDonagh