Verdict: Haynes makes us see familiar issues, like racism and homophobia, in a fresh way.

Details: Starring Julianne Moore, Dennis Haysbert and Dennis Quaid. Directed by Todd Haynes. Rated PG-13 for mature thematic elements, sexual content, brief violence and language. 106 minutes.

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Review: Todd Haynes' "Far From Heaven" is a potent antidote to the "Grease"-ing of the 1950s.

Granted, there's much to miss about a milk-and-cookies time when you could leave your doors unlocked and kids could ride their bikes freely around the neighborhood. But Haynes realizes there was a reason for all that '60s uproar, after all. Chuck Berry is a bona fide genius, but back in 1957 (the year this movie is set), he couldn't drink out of the same water fountain as Frankie Avalon. And Ian McKellen could've landed in jail.

The title is a twist on "All That Heaven Allows," a lush Technicolor melodrama directed by Douglas Sirk and released in 1955. (In that film, housewife Jane Wyman caused a town scandal by becoming friends with her gardener.) The title riff certainly fits, since the film is also a superbly crafted homage to moviemaking in that studio-centric decade — a time when Sirk could put Rock Hudson in a big, plaid, manly-man shirt and make us believe the Lumberjack Look was what all wealthy women of leisure craved in between pedicures. (Actually, when you consider how long poor Hudson stayed closeted, "Far From Heaven" could also — in an odd, sad way — be a metaphor for his life.) From Heaven" could also — in an odd, sad way — be a metaphor for his life.)

Our heroine, Cathy Whitaker (Julianne Moore), has a perfect existence — a handsome husband, Frank (Dennis Quaid), a lovely home, two adorable kids, and dozens of wasp-waisted dresses with skirts the size of a VW Bug. Sure, Cathy is a little liberal — from her days in summer stock with those Jewish boys, a neighbor joshes. But Cathy plays by the rules of cushy suburbia. And she looks great doing it.

There's only one shadow in her gloriously sunny life. Frank likes guys.

When Frank's sexual preference comes, um, out, Cathy is shocked. Then, she pulls herself together and does the right, open-minded, liberal-thinking thing: she sends him to a doctor who can perhaps, God-willing, cure his homosexuality.

Frank becomes moody and isolated. He's deeply depressed by his failure as an All-American male (to say nothing of his neutered sex life). Eventually, Cathy turns to her African-American gardener, Raymond (Dennis Haysbert, in full Rock attire), for comfort. They begin spending time together — more time than a nice white lady and her non-white employee should.

This doesn't go unnoticed by the neighbors. True, just a few days earlier, there had been an admiring newspaper article, gushing that Cathy is "as devoted to her family as she is kind to Negroes." But there's a line all decent 1950s people recognize and she's crossed it.

Though the film's theme of corruption underneath a smooth suburban surface has echoes of David Lynch's 'Blue Velvet," Haynes' voice is distinctively his own. The period is meticulously re-created, from the salmon and powder-blue cars and the cheerfully yellow maid uniforms to French Twists and steakhouses named Sammy's.

And the small-Connecticut-town perfection is perfectly replicated by an expert production-design department. The autumn leaves are beyond perfection, each one seemingly hand-painted to an exquisite scarlet or gold, each drifting to earth at the precisely right moment.

But here's what sets "Far From Heaven" apart from the work of other pitch-perfect parodists (say, John Waters): it's smirk-free. Moore and Quaid never comment on their characters (a lazy choice lesser actors might've tried). There's still plenty to laugh at, but the stars' dogged emotional honesty gives the movie a unique tone.

By surrounding us with hyper-artificiality, Haynes makes us see familiar issues, like racism and homophobia, in a fresh way. What makes the movie simple is also what makes it bold. You don't know whether to wince or laugh when Frank's doctor patiently and oh-so-compassionately explains that electroshock and hormonal re-balancing have been occasionally successful, but some cases are, well, incurable. On a different front, Haysbert's rude awaking to the subtle hypocrisy of white-gloved liberalism is heartbreaking.

Given the less flashy role, the one more likely to border on caricature, Quaid is excellent. He understands the sense of entitlement white males had in the '50s, as well as the shame of being gay in a time when such things weren't to be talked about. That said, Moore is just plain astonishing. She embodies the graceful, supportive Good Housekeeping wife, epitomized by June Cleaver in pearls and helmet-head hair, whose well-meant, timid attempts to be "tolerant" doom her. Given her work in "Safe" (her first Haynes collaboration), "Magnolia" "Short Cuts," even "Hannibal," you have to wonder, is there anything this actor can't do?

"Far From Heaven" can be slow and those expecting something campy will be disappointed. But Haynes' beguiling mix of art and artifice doesn't pull its punches. He knows that some areas of that Greatest Generation era were very far from heaven.

— Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, Cox News Service