Jude Law's performance sizzles as passion sustains him in 'Cold Mountain'

There's a moment early on in Anthony Minghella's Civil War epic "Cold Mountain" that defines movie-star charisma, and it comes from the azure eyes of Jude Law, that most reluctant of stars. Though he's handsome enough to inspire swoons in the aisles (those susceptible to his charms should perhaps arrange for a designated driver after viewing this film), Law has long shunned leading-man roles in favor of vivid character turns.

Here, though, he's at the center of the picture as Confederate soldier Inman, a man of few words who nonetheless falls deeply in love with the minister's beautiful daughter, Ada (Nicole Kidman). And in that key early scene, he lingers outside Ada's home on a twilit evening, turning to look at her as they chat on the porch. That's all he does — a turn of the head, a quick shift of the eyes — but it's electric, as if he were shot through by lightning, as if suddenly no other person existed on Earth but her.

Movie review Showtimes and trailer ***½ "Cold Mountain," with Jude Law, Nicole Kidman, Renée Zellweger, Donald Sutherland, Ray Winstone, Brendan Gleeson, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Natalie Portman, Eileen Atkins. Written and directed by Anthony Minghella, based on the novel by Charles Frazier. 154 minutes. Rated R for violence and sexuality. Several theaters.

"Cold Mountain," opening today, rises or falls on whether we believe Inman's love for Ada, and in that moment, it's unmistakable. Falling in love is a common occurrence on screen, but rarely is it so palpable, so razor-sharp. Law's performance, embodied in that moment, sustains us throughout the movie, just as love sustains Inman during his long separation from Ada. I'll wait for you, she says, and he finds his hope in those words.

Charles Frazier's best-selling novel takes Homer's "Odyssey" and transports it to the Civil War South: An injured warrior makes a long and perilous journey home to the arms of the woman he hopes is waiting for him. And in the hands of Minghella, who with "The English Patient" proved himself master of the sweeping romantic epic, it becomes a study in yearning, of two isolated people dreaming of a future they each glimpsed in the other's eyes.

Kidman, whose porcelain skin and delicate features perfectly suit a Southern belle, gives a performance less vivid than Law's, particularly in the first half of the film. Her Ada is almost too restrained, too ladylike; we don't quite see the depths of passion she must feel. (Is this talented actress, who gave the performance of her life in near-unrecognizable disguise in "The Hours," at her best when we — and her directors — are not distracted by her uncanny beauty?)

No matter; Law smolders enough for both of them, and Minghella has surrounded them with a brilliant supporting cast, each of whom gets a moment to shine: Donald Sutherland as the mellow-toned minister; Philip Seymour Hoffman as a dissolute preacher ("The Good Lord," he says with a rakish drawl, "can be very flexible"); Natalie Portman as a grieving young widow; Ray Winstone as Teague, the corrupt head of the Home Guard; Eileen Atkins as a backwoods furrier who can "pretty much survive off a goat."

Best of all is Renée Zellweger as the drifter Ruby, who moves into Ada's home and helps her run the farm despite the poverty of wartime. Zellweger, who inevitably manages to find something fresh in every new role, bursts into the film like a sudden storm, yelping her lines with a raspy sparkle.

When delicate Ada cowers at the sight of an aggressive rooster, Ruby nonchalantly grabs the offender and snaps its neck, as if breaking a twig. "Let's put him in a pot!" she says with gusto.

Like "The English Patient," "Cold Mountain" is romance steeped in sadness; all the beautiful landscapes that Minghella and director of photography John Seale show us can't hide the tragedy of war and how it transforms these characters.

Ada's quiet words, late in the film, sum up the mood of this haunting film: "What we have lost can never be returned to us."

Moira Macdonald: mmacdonald@seattletimes.com