In theaters

THE FOG, directed by Rupert Wainwright, written by Cooper Layne, 100 minutes, rated PG-13.

At a recent late-night screening of “The Fog,” a boggy remake of John Carpenter’s tense 1980 version of the movie, it wasn’t the film that captivated most audience members. Instead, it was the ongoing flurry of text messaging that was the root of their entertainment. What were they saying to each other, these teens scattered among the audience? So few appeared to be enjoying it.

Their faces leaned into the light of their glowing cell phones, they tapped relentlessly, pushing more buttons than they imagined, and then turned in their seats to seek the source of the giggle that inevitably rang through the dark once the message was received.

While it’s true that movie etiquette isn’t what it used to be – theaters seem to have become living rooms, in which many feel free to chat and do as they please, and to hell with you if you don’t like it. Still, in this case, it’s tough to blame the kids for wanting to do anything else but watch the movie, regardless of how self-centered they came off. There is, after all, not much here to watch.

As directed by Rupert Wainwright from a script by Cooper Layne, “The Fog” appears to have been conceived and written in a thick murk, indeed. It takes us back to Antonio Bay, where atrocious things happened a century ago upon a schooner filled with lepers, the lot of which now, as rotting ghosts hidden by banks of fog, are eager to seek revenge on the descendants of those who did them wrong so long ago.

Those descendants include Nick Castle (Tom Welling of “Smallville”), who looks as if he stepped out of a Polo ad instead of off a fishing boat; Selma Blair in the Adrienne Barbeau role of radio host Stevie Wayne, who delivers her lines as if she just swallowed a bottle of Valium; and Maggie Grace as Nick’s girlfriend, Elizabeth, who is so benign, she will remind no one of Jamie Lee Curtis’ energetic performance in the superior original, which had a power this movie lacks.

Fresh off the success of “Halloween,” Carpenter embraced his movie’s low-budget, B-movie vibe and ran with it. He produced a cheap creepy, using the tricks of the trade to full effect; 25 years after first seeing it, I still can recall Barbeau in her lighthouse, still can see the fog as it rolled into Antonio Bay, still can hear the clang of the fish hooks and Curtis’ piercing shriek as the dead once again had their way with her.

Twenty-five minutes after leaving this forgettable movie, I was only grateful that I had my notes.

Grade: D

On video and DVD

BATMAN BEGINS, directed by Christopher Nolan, written by Nolan and David S. Goyer, 140 minutes, rated PG-13.

The good news about Christopher Nolan’s “Batman Begins” is that it doesn’t cave. Throughout, you can feel the pleasure that went into making it.

Working from a script he co-wrote with David S. Goyer, Nolan delivers an intense, beautifully crafted movie that deepens the Batman franchise with a fully realized vision that gets to the heart of how Batman began.

The film follows Nolan’s previous movies, “Memento” and “Insomnia,” with a story that focuses on a tormented soul facing a troubled past.

True, this soul wears a mask, but then so do all the characters in Nolan’s works, even if those masks aren’t as readily apparent as the one worn by this new Batman, nicely played by Christian Bale.

A quick glance at Nolan’s films suggests an emerging theme – the idea that all of us wear masks. Whether it’s at work or in our relationships, at the grocery story or at the gas pump, what haunts us, what angers us, what worries us and consumes us is carefully concealed behind a protective veneer of benign expression.

For Nolan, it’s the peeling away of that mask that excites him, the search for truth that intrigues him. And so, not surprisingly, this story of what lurks behind a legendary superhero’s mask proves the perfect match for his talents and interests. “Batman Begins” is Nolan at his best. It’s his movie all the way.

Fine performances from Liam Neeson, Morgan Freeman, Cillian Murphy, Tom Wilkinson and Rutgar Howard ring throughout, with the action sequences proving especially kinetic, particularly in the fantastic penultimate scene in which Batman must stop a team of men from wasting Gotham with a hallucinogenic gas that will force people to face what terrifies them most. What springs from this is Gotham by way of George Romero, with the city’s residents turning into zombies who rage through its dark corridors, the veins of which thrum with corruption.

With Katie Holmes as Rachel Dawes, an idealistic assistant D.A. Bruce once fancied as a child, and Gary Oldman as the city’s only uncorrupt policeman, Gordon, – yes, he will become Commissioner Gordon – “Batman Begins” doesn’t spend much time rounding out its ancillary characters, which might be why Holmes, in particular, seems like such a bland nonentity.

Still, this isn’t her movie, or anyone else’s movie.

It’s “Batman Begins” and so far, it remains one of the best films of the year.

Grade: A

Visit www.weekinrewind.com, the new archive of Bangor Daily News film critic Christopher Smith’s reviews, which appear Mondays in Discovering, Fridays in Happening, and Weekends in Television. He may be reached at Christopher@weekinrewind.com.