In a somewhat surprising opening to "Master and Commander," death arrives out of the morning fog in a heart-pounding crescendo of action and disbelief.A watch commander on a British frigate - early 19th century, during the Napoleonic wars - catches a glimpse of a sail in the mist, but he's not sure, so the captain, Jack Aubrey (Russell Crowe), is summoned. Aubrey scours the fog for some sign of a ship. Finding none, he turns away.
Then he stops, perhaps because he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His very blood "soaked into the planks of the ship" and though he can't see the enemy in the mist, he somehow knows that there is an enemy waiting out there. When Aubrey turns to look again into the fog bank, he sees a brilliant plume of red and pink pastel colors. It's the muzzle flash from a dozen heavy guns, whose noise and shot arrive in a split second. Aubrey barely has time to voice a warning before shrapnel tears the deck of his ship apart, and many of his men as well. It's as paradoxically stunning a view of violent death as you're ever likely to see.

This movie in general is a romantic notion belonging to an age when warriors were poets - in the spellbinding dialogues that Crowe has his crew - instead of part of a mindless war machine. Certainly, it's very much at odds with what we've come to expect from movies like "Saving Private Ryan," where the message is that war is hell, even if it's a war worth fighting.

"Master and Commander" is an old-fashioned movie that returns to the old-fashioned notion that combat is noble, a proper test for a gentleman and more than that for any man worth his weight. But the most astounding aspect of the movie was the loyalty and the utter devotion to the beauty of war - all expressed by scenes somewhat abject of dialogue and gruesome reality blended with poetic depth of character.

Crowe, the juggernaut of Oscars that he is, shows us once again why he is the best in the business. His role as the war-torn commander, while reminiscent of his "Gladiator" days, is inspired and incredibly believable. Nothing ties the movie together better than both the fatherly and complacent ways that Crowe attacks every incident and new situation. The way that he plays Aubrey as a powerful yet prideful sailor is brilliant and beautiful.

With incredible attention to detail and a bold disregard for useless marketplace dialogue, legendary director Peter Weir ("Witness") has unleashed a rollicking adventure film dedicated not to escapism but to restoring a sense of attachment between characters and a digitally jaded audience. Here, amid the salt spray, tropical sweat and puddles of blood, realistic characters skirt the shoals of melodrama to drive headlong into unpredictable squalls and maddening torpor.

Weir has a penchant for anti realism that still works very well amid outdoor settings. The endless scenes of "Master and Commander" demand a gift and grace to be utterly effective, and the director doesn't disappoint.

The general plot is actually little more than an extended game of cat-and-mouse. Encounters with the "phantom ship" (the French ship Acheron) are offset by extended periods of life onboard the H.M.S. Surprise. We see little of the French crew, save the distant view through Crowe's spyglass and the thunder of their ugly guns. "Master and Commander" is concerned mainly with the effect the hunt has on Aubrey and his crew, and Weir ensures that the results are riveting.

The psychological strife of class issues, valor and conflicting religious views is prominently and uncomfortably powerful in the movie, all powerfully challenged by Crowe's strong but flawed character. But also conjured in the viewer's mind is the endless strife of entitlement and duty. This strife is an integral part of the film, driving one self-loathing watch commander to suicide.

Most satisfying is Crowe's verbal sparring with the ship's surgeon, Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany). The two men are intellectual equals - Aubrey's military mind is offset by Maturin's scientific reasoning and rationality. Both of them have a similar sense of honor and know each other well enough to playfully challenge their respective anticipations. Bettany and Crowe, who worked together on "A Beautiful Mind," build a solid foundation of friendship, camaraderie and devotion that is heartwarming to watch on screen. Watching their verbal spars over calamity or watching their occassional musical duets together - both actors learned to play instruments for the role - is one of "Master and Commander's" greatest pleasures. And where the movie is devoid of sexuality - there are no women at all in the entire movie, save a brief shot of a Brazilian native - it makes up for it with the ancient and powerful code of brotherhood and courage.

By centering the film on the ship, Weir expands the setting's confines until it truly seems to be a universe unto itself. Patrick O'Brian (who wrote the series on which the movie is based) provided a rich bubble of historical detail in every scene - the sailor's thankless routine, the shanties and superstitions, the grim realities of 19th-century navies. Weir's obvious devotion to every detail shows and shines.

This movie is alive. It's a shame that O'Brian didn't live to see it, as one imagines he'd be most proud of the incendiary capture of historic detail.