Far from Heaven almost defies classification. The most simplistic way to describe this unique creation would be to call it a parody of 1950s-style melodramas. But that would be wholly inaccurate -- a parody suggests imitation containing a certain amount of irreverence which this movie does not have, and the subject being imitated is not general but specific. Namely, Far from Heaven employs the style of  director Douglas Sirk, who was famous for taking the movie melodrama form and exaggerating it just enough to make it distinct.

I don't feel comfortable calling Far from Heaven an homage, either. That implies too much reverence, and this film is far too determined to be its own entity than to defer to "superior" Sirk films. Also, it doesn't pay homage to Sirk in the way most other movies pay homage to classic directors -- with a reference here or an appropriated scene there. Far from Heaven immerses itself in Sirk's world -- the whole movie could be considered a reference, but that would also be devaluing the work somewhat.

Far from Heaven is what it is: a Todd Haynes film. It acknowledges the effectiveness of Sirk's storytelling format by using it, but not in the same way Sirk did. Sirk used his movies as contemporary social commentary, and it worked at the time because his movies looked, sounded, and felt similar to other movies of the time -- each element was slightly tweaked enough to heighten viewer responses and to give a hint of self-awareness of its purpose. Although Haynes's movie also emerges as social commentary, its commentary is entirely self-aware. By utilizing Sirk's earlier methods, Haynes is attesting to the pure effectiveness of the form itself, regardless of the time period during which the film is seen.

And it works. It just plain works.

Far from Heaven explores the oppressiveness of discrimination, something also addressed, albeit to a lesser degree, by Sirk's All That Heaven Allows. Sirk's movie deals more with class discrimination, and it exposes the shallowness of a middle-class community so well it made me want to hiss at the evil characters on the screen. Haynes seems to be suggesting this could be taken further -- that a movie in the shape of All That Heaven Allows could just as strongly explore racial and homosexual discrimination. By also setting Far from Heaven in the '50s, a time of exposed prejudices without the shield of political correctness, Haynes makes his themes more potent. I was left wondering how far we have really progressed -- discrimination is still oppressive, it's just more insidious these days.

Because the melodrama format is meant to openly evoke bitterness, tragedy, anger, sadness, and sympathy, it goes straight to the heart of the matter by presenting a person's natural instinct to distance rather than to embrace, to look out for one's self at the expense of the livelihood of others, to prefer malicious gossip over humane respect. When all this is shepherded into a united communal groupthink, the result cripples everyone as an individual. In this movie, it's especially harmful to a married woman (Julianne Moore) who, because of her gender, feels increasingly trapped by the lack of viable options available in her pursuit of happiness.

Even without paying attention to these themes, Far from Heaven deserves high admiration for being a technical marvel. The attention to detail is stunning. The production design screams '50s from the architecture to the household objects. The costumes are vivid, with Moore's dresses being particularly colorful and luscious. Most colors appear bright and varied throughout the movie, hiding only when the dark, shadowy scenes accentuating moments of confusion and despair occur. Sirk is evoked right down to the cross-fade transitions, the manipulative orchestral score, and the moments of stilted dialogue.

And the acting is perfect. In particular, Moore and Dennis Haysbert nail their parts. Dennis Quaid, in the meantime, is presented as contrast, perhaps because his character is the one struggling most with breaking the mold. His dialogue feels a little more natural, and he'll even throw out an occasional curse word.

Far from Heaven was made with a lot of love -- love for Sirk, love for detail, and love for the power of the movies. Yes, it is a tribute to Sirk, but stopping there makes it too easy while missing the point, one emphasized by the tone of the film's ending. Because All That Heaven Allows presents   a rather ironic and artificial happy ending, I thought Far from Heaven would also offer viewers a safety-net resolution. Instead, it delivers bittersweet sincerity. We are not watching a Douglas Sirk knockoff; we are witnessing a Todd Haynes accomplishment.

(Review also posted on www.windowtothemovies.com.)

Released by Focus Features and rated "PG-13" for mature thematic elements, sexual content, brief violence and language.)