In the absorbing yet politically and cinematically safe Munich, Steven Spielberg mulls Israel's response to the murders of eleven athletes by Palestinian terrorists at the 1972 Summer Olympics.

He presents a mature, balanced examination of the wisdom of an-eye-for-an-eye, plus the utility (or futility) of violence. Zionism in its purest form is commended and the plight of Palestinians is acknowledged. Historians can weigh in on the accuracy of Munich and those with informed opinions about the Middle East can debate its implications. Average moviegoers will find a thoughtful thriller peppered with suspense, if a long one lacking a revelatory finish.

Eric Bana plays Avner, the Mossad agent charged with tracking down and eliminating eleven people allegedly involved in planning the attack. Prime Minister Golda Meir and her top-ranking military advisors personally recruit him, although it's an unofficial black op, totally off the record (except, somewhat humorously, insofar as one official insists he submit expense receipts). Despite his wife being pregnant with their first child, Avner takes the assignment.

His Mossad handler (Geoffrey Rush) assembles a team that includes an explosives expert (Mathieu Kassovitz), a documents specialist (Hanns Zischler), a wheel man (the new James Bond, Daniel Craig), and a fastidious chap (Ciaran Hinds) who cleans up crime scenes. Spielberg wrings considerable tension out of each job carried out by the Frankfurt-based cell in various European locations. But this isn't fundamentally a spy story. Indeed, the hits appear extremely primitive compared to today's slick movie espionage.

The central focus is the ethical consequences of revenge on individuals and nations. The script was adapted by playwright Tony Kushner and Eric Roth from a book titled "Vengeance: The True Story of an Israeli Counter-Terrorist Team" by George Jonas. What ends up on screen steers clear of blatant controversy by concentrating on two themes. 

First, violence is cyclical and a thirst for revenge can never be slated. As Avner himself observes -- "There's no peace at the end of this" and "All this blood comes back to us." You can argue that Israel's response was justified even while acknowledging the incontrovertible practical reality: violence begets violence.

Second, Munich contains an elegant argument, voiced by Avner's mother, for Zionism in its purest form. Leaving aside the consequences for populations that might be displaced, and what's required to defend it, how can you disagree with the proposition that a home for the Jewish people -- "a place for Jews on Earth where no one will bother them" -- is a legitimate goal?

Home is a favorite theme of Spielberg's and here it overshadows one of his other enduring preoccupations, fatherhood. Surprisingly, Avner doesn't have a scene with his dad, an ailing Israeli military hero who is mentioned but whom we never meet. He does have two father figures, both with blood on their hands -- the obstinate Mossad official played by Rush and a less prickly though more dangerous figure known as "Papa,"a French underworld boss (the wonderful Michael Lonsdale) who provides Avner with vital intelligence. 

The conflicted pacifism of Munich suggests Spielberg's vision is maturing. It's less about a black-and-white faithfulness to bloodlines and more about the nurturing role of motherhood and sense of place. There is nothing naïve or simplistic about recognizing both the need to defend with force and the despair that follows when one sees its pointless side. Here that conundrum is laced with a cynicism concerning the ability to determine right from wrong on the world stage, plus the inability to be certain about which side someone is on. According to Munich, every individual and every state must compromise their principles at some point.

One common denominator between terrorists and nation-states is public perception or image. The goal of terror is notoriety for one's cause. Likewise, the Israelis wanted to send a message to their enemies and the world community by striking back in this particular way. Spielberg emphasizes the point that all parties are PR conscious at the beginning of the film by filtering the siege through real media coverage, including ABC's. The attack on the athletes was one of the first events that unfolded live on television sets throughout the world. Presenting it this way to a movie audience thirty years later obscures emotional connections and sacrifices immediacy.

In a pivotal sequence late in the film, an attempt is made to connect the dots between Avner's personal story and the instigating attacks. Spielberg cuts between him making love to his wife following the mission and close-up footage recreating the killing of hostages at the Munich airport. Since Avner wasn't there, it doesn't make sense as a first-person flashback and the juxtaposition of sex and the murders seems trivializing. It can be interpreted as Avner making more Israeli babies who will grow up to combat such brutality. On a deeper level, it reflects his mixed emotions -- sorrow and righteous anger over the crime, sorrow and guilt for having killed to avenge it. 

His torment is quite humane and reasonable. We can relate to the desire for revenge and so it's hard to blame Israel or Avner; yet their actions can't easily be condoned either. Despair and self-searching are a natural, healthy consequence for individuals and nations. A strength and weakness of Munich is that no one can be summarily condemned, nor can anyone be considered a true hero. It is not Schindler's List.

(Released by Universal Pictures and rated "R" for strong graphic violence, some sexual content, nudity and language.)