The Apostle

Robert Duvall's third film as director--he also wrote the script and plays Sonny, the leading role--is an understated but overlong character study, the story of a Pentecostal preacher who attempts to re-invent himself from the ground up while hiding from the law. Passionate, sincere, and gratifyingly complex, it's finally just a bit too enthralled with the details of its eponymous hero's workday; the last half hour, in particular, feels as long as a real church service, and almost as repetitive. Granted, Sonny's fiery exhortations exert a certain fascination--this must be the most energetic, tireless performance given by a senior citizen since Cagney barked his way through One, Two, Three in 1961--but because this is Duvall's show from beginning to end, the lengthy sermons often come across as self-indulgent grandstanding. More effective are the quieter moments: Sonny casually whacking his wife's lover upside the head with a baseball bat in a sudden fit of rage (yes, that's a quiet moment, which is what makes it so remarkable), or tentatively wooing the secretary at the local radio station (Miranda Richardson), or driving his rickety bus from house to house to pick up his (mostly black) flock every morning. Optional. (M. D'Angelo)