The X Files: I want to believe

AH well. Makes a change, I suppose.

Over the past few weeks these pages have been home to some of the best summer movies for many a year.

The Dark Knight. Kung Fu Panda. WALL-E. And yes, Mamma Mia!

Whereas this week, we have . . . The X Files: I Want To Believe. Henceforth, The X Files: I Want To Believe That If They’re Bringing Back A Popular TV Series For A One-Off Film, It’s Going To Be A Darn Sight Better Than This Guff.

X Files creator Chris Carter’s boast from day one has been that this film was going to be “a real stand-alone movie.” Which, in a way, is right. Because if you head to the ticket queue, the likelihood is you’re going to stand alone, pal.

Not that this new feature-length episode of the much-loved 1990s paranormal series is an outright disaster.

But let’s be frank. If you’re trying to recreate the magic of a TV show that was most famous for its crazy monsters, aliens and assorted nut cutlets, your No1 choice for a villain is . . . probably not going to be Billy Connolly as a child-abusing priest.

Because that’s not X Files. That’s Paedo Files.

The plot is nearly entirely free of spooks, kooks and paranormal activity, and could have been plucked from a weak episode of any me-too TV thriller show.

A young FBI agent has gone missing, and the pervert priest Father Joseph Crissman (Connolly) claims he’s had visions of her whereabouts.

An FBI bigwig—played, preposterously, by Xzibit, the bloke from Pimp My Ride—drafts in ex-agents Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) to work out if Crissman’s visions are legit.

It’s a real thriller of an investigation, which basically runs along the following lines:

Mulder: He’s telling the truth.

Scully: No he isn’t.

Mulder: Yes he is.

Scully: No he isn’t.

(Crissman finds a clue.)

Mulder: See? He is.

Scully: No he isn’t. (Repeat.)

When the fate of the missing agent is finally revealed it’s hard to muster up much excitement because it feels massively inconsequential.

Forget X Files—file this one under Y, for Y bother. Because, just like Sex and the City before it, it feels less like an actual film than an excuse to wring one final pay cheque out of die-hard fans.

Also like SATC, it’s not even like a strong episode of the show—just a fair to middling one. Even proper X Files wing- dings will struggle to get much out of it.

Yes, there is a scattering of references to mega-obscure plot points, such as a bizarre rant from Scully about the fate of Mulder’s sister Samantha. (What do you mean you don’t remember season seven, episode 150?)

Wombat

And there’s a guest appearance by “fan favourite” bald character Walter Skinner (although to me and the other 99 per cent of humanity who won’t recognise him, it means about as much as a cameo from Duncan Goodhew).

Plus there’s perhaps the clumsiest movie gag of the year. Mulder and Scully spot a grinning photo of George W Bush on the wall of the FBI headquarters and give each other a loaded glance, while the mysterious X Files whistle plays in the background. It did, admittedly, get a laugh. But what’s the joke?

That they’re aware of some shadowy conspiracy to keep Dubya in power? That they know Dubya’s an alien? Or, as I suspect, that it’s nothing to do with The X Files and is just amusing to see the guy grinning like a vacant wombat?

There are so many reasons to go to the cinema this week. This ain’t one of them.

Die-hard fan or regular cinemagoer, there’s no covering up the fact that The X Files is a titanic let-down. Wheel out the aliens next time, please.

OUT ON FRIDAY