I used to be an avid book reader when I was a kid living in the Spanish-speaking banana republic of El Salvador. 'Roots.' 'War and Peace.' 'The Holy Bible (the King James version).' 'Sybil.' 'Greek Tragedies.' 'The Grapes of Wrath.' Shakespeare tragedies (loved that Titus book!). As I've grown older I've gradually lost interest in reading, mostly because it's such a time consuming task and my interests have shifted from fiction to non-fiction material. Blame it on my shortened attention span, digital cable, a shelf with 200+ DVD's and a dozen videogame systems, all clamoring for my undivided attention (not to mention my obligations to PSXNATION and other stuff). But I still remember reading a couple of Virginia Woolf books when I was a kid (which were few because of that pesky English-to-Spanish translation process), namely 'The Voyage Out' and 'Mrs. Dalloway.' I don't think I quite got what 'Mrs. Dalloway' was at the time (I was 12), but that didn't stop me from being fascinated by its account of a woman struggling with her inner torments. I would have to wait 'till College here in the States to discover that the book mirrored the life of its creator, whose mental illness and bouts with depression are well documented.

Director Stephen Daldry, screenwriter David Hare and producer Scott Rudin had a tough task when they decided to adapt Michael Cunningham's tribute/homage to 'Mrs. Dalloway,' 'The Hours,' to the big screen. Chronicling the troubled lives of three different women in three different times/places (including 'Mrs. Dalloway' author Virginia Woolf), the movie could have been a jumbled mess of loosely connected stories threatening to overwhelm each other with their wildly distinctive cultural settings/characters. But the storylines are never hard to follow and are actually inter-related in a structure that is meant to surprise moviegoers that haven't read Cunningham's novel. Watch out for the little Richie Brown character (played in the 1951 portion of the film by Jack Ravello), since his importance in linking the two modern-day stories is underscored until its significance toward the end of the film makes for one of "The Hours'" best moments. Editor Peter Boyle makes the stories of the three women in the movie easy to follow, sometimes using a movement in one scene as the transition to another entirely different moment in another woman's era. Sounds hockey, but the important thing is that it works!

On the assured hands of these filmmakers though, the best asset of the film version of "The Hours" is allowed to shine through: the performances. Nicole Kidman ("Eyes Wide Shut," "Batman Returns," "Birthday Girl," etc.) plays Virginia Woolf circa 1923 as she conceives/executes 'Mrs. Dalloway' to the written word. Julianne Moore ("Boogie Nights," "Hannibal," etc.), looking exactly like the frustrated 1950's housewife she played in "Far From Heaven" (also released around the same time "The Hours" was released theatrically), is dissatisfied-with-her-meaningless-existence Los Angeles housewife Laura Brown. She's reading 'Mrs. Dalloway' in 1951 and using it as inspiration for a potential suicide attempt. Meryl Streep ("Kramer Vs. Kramer," "Death Becomes Her," "Adaptation," etc.) is Clarissa Vaughn, the New York City socialite that tries to organize in 2001 a party for his ailing poet friend Richard (Ed Harris). Clarissa is named after the protagonist of 'Mrs. Dalloway,' and her mundane desire to throw a party triggers indirectly the chain of events that lead to the film's touching climax. All three actresses are their best here, with Kidman's angst-ridden portrayal of Virginia Woolf easily stealing the movie (and the Golden Globe Award and Best Actress Oscar that she won) with her much-publicized prosthetic nose, perfect British accent and distinctive body language.

Backing the trio of AAA leads are stellar guest performances by... (taking a deep breath here)... Stephen Dillane (stellar as Leonard, Virginia's asexual husband/partner), Jeff Daniels (Clarissa's poet friend Louis Walters), John C. Reilly (perfect as Laura Brown's clueless husband Dan), Miranda Richardson (deliciously wicked as Virginia's sister, Vanessa Bell), "The West Wing's" Allison Janney (Clarissa's partner Sally Lester), "Muriel's Wedding's" Toni Collette (Laura Brown's next-door neighbor Kitty), Claire Daines (touching as Clarissa's teenage daughter Julia) and many, many more. Production values back-up the illusion that these women are living in their respective time periods, and at 115 min. the film (which at times can feel a tad over plotted and boring) mercifully ends at just the right moment. The absence of any humor whatsoever (intentional or unintentional) makes this a hard film for easily bored or sleepy viewers to sit through. Only during one scene (Ch.16) in which a character tells Meryl Streep's Clarissa something to the effect of 'the worse thing a mother can do is to abandon her children' (an veiled references to Streep's Joanna Kramer character in the 1979 film version of "Kramer vs. Kramer") does the film come even remotely close at winking at nodding at the audience.

The only negatives I can think of about "The Hours" is that its weaknesses are typical fodder that most critics harp on when they refer to this as the 'chick flick' it actually is. Male characters are either battered-by-trauma weaklings (Ed Harris' Richard) or simpletons that can't see the pain their women are going through (John C. Reilly's Dan and Stephen Dillane's Leonard). The bisexuality/homosexuality of the women also implies a simpler solution/predicament to their rather well off lives. Their trouble is inside their heads, and that makes for a juxtaposition to their otherwise decent existence that doesn't strike me as too negative a situation. Other than those caveats though, "The Hours" is top-notch quality Hollywood drama at its most literate and best-performed.