A film with breath-taking locations, sweeping cinematography and a heart-stopping musical score, topped off with an uplifting story that’s a moving tribute to the human spirit.

This is not that movie.

Filmed entirely on a bare soundstage, "Dogville" begins with an overhead shot that contains the chalk-drawn diagram of a one-street small town. Within the lines of each building lies the name of the inhabitants, and upon closer inspection a few meager props emerge as well as the story’s principal players. A lone tree occupies the non-existent landscape, with a bordering blackness isolating the town like an island. As the plot unfolds (in a distinct prologue and nine chapters, with narration by John Hurt), "Dogville" feels more like an avant-garde play than a film. The emphasis here is on character, with close-ups dominating the screen.

Nicole Kidman—in one of her most compelling performances—stumbles into this town during the night, mysterious gunshots preceding her entrance. Tom Edison (an essay could be written on the reasons for this name choice), the town philosopher, takes Kidman’s Grace under his wing, and diplomatically has the town (all eleven of them) vote on whether to allow her to remain. Initially her stay appears as idyllic as Thornton Wilder’s "Our Town," with Grace helping the townsfolk in return for her sanctuary—she teaches Vera’s six children and helps care for their infant, comforts blind old man McKay, tends the apple orchards and assists a handicapped young girl. Gradually a romance blooms between Grace and Tom.

But no one ever questions the reasons for Grace’s need to hide.

Eerily, in tiny baby steps, the citizens begin to criticize Grace and take advantage of her good nature, some even raping her. By the film’s ninth chapter—three hours later—the ugliness has taken on nightmarish qualities and the horrifying conclusion is nearly unbelievable.

"Dogville" is a sparsely produced film that relies on the incredible performances of its stellar cast. There is a gut-wrenching intensity here that is riveting. Like Shirley Jackson’s short story "The Lottery," which illustrated the "Lord of the Flies" mentality of survival, "Dogville" reveals the depths that an entire group of people can sink to when their basest instincts emerge. This is a film about the intolerance for outsiders, the need to squelch those who are different, the cancer of hypocrisy, and ultimately the weakness of those who only talk and cannot act upon their convictions.

Few films leave the audience longing for a post-viewing discussion. "Dogville" deserves a semester on a college campus. Kudos to Lars von Trier.