City of God, an intense new experience disguised as a movie, is the sprawling story of gangs, drugs, corruption and redemption, set over a few decades amidst the turbulent backdrop of Rio de Janeiro's slums.

City of God is told through the eyes of a "good" kid named Rocket (Alexandre Rodrigues), who aspires to leave the life of hoods and dealers, become a photographer and break free from the hellish world in which he's been raised. At the same time, the film chronicles the meteoric rise of a ruthless drug dealer, Lil `Ze (Leandro Firmino da Hora), who becomes a legend in the neighborhood and who will, before the film concludes, commit some of the most senseless and violent acts imaginable. The film zips back and forth at record pace, from decade to decade, hitting the high notes in both of their lives, building to an exciting showdown between rival gangs that is pointed in its senselessness.

There's a lot of groundwork laid in the first half of the film, most of it regarding the origins of the gangs and the depiction of a neighborhood gone to hell. But the film really takes off in its breathless second half, with the mano-a-mano building to an all out gang war, brilliantly depicted in high cinematic style - wild, erratic cinematography, slow motion, split screens, fast editing and jarring music.

Great films always create vivid and memorable senses of location, time, and place. City of God is a film that feels so tied to its lower-class milieu, so caught up in the poverty and desperation of its city, that even though the story of rival drug gangs could be told anywhere (and has), it feels fresh and authentic.

Though City of God is an intensely violent film, there is also quite a bit of humor, most of it possibly to diffuse the extremes of violence regarding the wild and vicious nature of dangerous and trigger-happy Lil' Ze. I found myself turned off to his antics and found them too cruel to laugh. He's a loathsome character, and I found myself thoroughly disgusted when at one point he maims and then slowly executes a terrified child staring down the barrel of a gun.

Director Fernando Meirelles has fashioned City of God as a confident, assured film. There's nothing tentative here - the filmmakers knew exactly what they wanted and went after it with energy and style, both on display in spades.

What's on the screen is a hellish mosaic of a seemingly godless, lawless world, where the biggest guns rule the day. Bowling for Columbine made a strong case for the American obsession with fear and gun violence - but City of God, with its armies of pre-teens casually carrying firearms down the street, cataloging who's getting shot next, seems just as strong a statement. Only in this case, it's matter of fact. No questions asked.