Father and head-of-the-family Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey, Hurlyburly) appears to be a normal middle-aged suburbanite. He drives his Toyota Camry to his job at Media Monthly Magazine, but if you look closer you will see a man so broken of spirit that he has no qualms leering at his teenage daughter’s young friends or referring to his daily shower masturbation session as the highlight of his day. Lester explains, in an opening narrative, that he is 42 and will be dead in a year – even though it feels like part of him has been dying for years.

His wife Carolyn (Annette Bening, In Dreams) is a real estate agent with a Mercedes SUV and an upbeat outlook on life, not to mention pruning shears that match her gardening clogs. Career-wise, Carolyn lives in the huge shadow of Buddy Kane, the Real Estate King (Peter Gallagher, The Man Who Knew too Little), whose face adorns park benches and billboards around the unnamed town. Look closer at the woman that forces her family listen to elevator music during dinner each evening, and you will see a person so afraid of professional and personal failure that she actually beats herself in the face if she cries.

Lester and Caroline’s only child is Jane (Thora Birch, Harrison Ford’s cute little kid in those Tom Clancy movies), a high school student embarrassed that her lecherous dad will "spray his shorts" if she brings home any female classmates. She’s a member of the school’s pep squad, but if you look closer, Jane finds herself struggling to escape the shadow of her popular and brazen best friend (and model wannabe) Angela (Mena Suvari, American Pie).

No longer able to stomach the daily grind of selling his soul at work, Lester decides to quit his job and really live his life. He trades the Camry for the classic car he always dreamed of having. He also starts to work out and smoke pot, finding new employment at a fast food joint called Smiley Burger – and he has never been happier. Despite his newfound euphoria, Lester’s family suffers the brunt of the changes brought upon by his revitalized outlook.

Their problem? Lester really starts to push the envelope in a world where you simply can’t afford to be plain, but can’t do much to really stand out, either. And that is the soul of the film. Most men his age are content to regale peers with tales of days past when they drove across the country, stoned like Gonzo and his attorney, with The Allman Brothers Live at the Fillmore East blaring from the stereo and the wind whipping through hair they used to have. Now older, married and whipped, they are happy to have two minutes alone each day just to pinch a loaf (or jerk off in the shower).

Not to be outdone by the reigning neighborhood dysfunction champions are the Burnham’s new neighbors, whose move into the vacant house next-door coincides with Lester’s mental collapse. Their patriarch (Chris Cooper, October Sky), a military man with a graying brush-cut, introduces himself to everyone as "Colonel Fitts, U.S. Marine Corps." Wife Barbra (Allison Janney, 10 Things I Hate About You) staggers through life like a zombie, trying to mask whatever horrors life has previously dealt her. Like the Burnhams, the Fitts’ have one child – a boy named Ricky (newcomer Wes Bentley), who has just been released from a mental institution, sells pot and captures life’s quirks on a home video camera. Boy, did he move to the right neighborhood.

Likely to draw comparisons to both The Ice Storm and Happiness (all three are interweaving tales of whacked-out suburban families with major sexual issues), Beauty is nothing short of perfection. Spacey has never been better (plus, he has one of the best spit-takes of this decade) and Birch is completely amazing for somebody who was in the cinematic opus Monkey Business. A role like Jane’s would ordinarily be given to a Christina Ricci or possibly an Anna Paquin, but Birch’s performance easily tops anything that either have done.

The scary part of Beauty (other than the content) is that it’s the first script written by Alan Ball and first picture helmed by Sam Mendes, who has previously directed Broadway hits Cabaret and the Nicole Kidman nude-fest The Blue Room. Mendes’ bold direction is technically brilliant, recalling early efforts of Tarantino or Paul Thomas Anderson. Beauty is the kind of film that will reap loads of critical praise, yet may not light up the box office and be too controversial to be considered for Oscar nominations. But it is so good that the Academy may not be able to ignore it.

1:52 - for nudity, strong sexuality, language, graphic violence and drug content