Frank McCourt's memoir, Angela's Ashes, has transcended its genre's traditional limitations to become a sub-cultural phenomenon. Garnering the Pulitzer Prize and months on the best-seller lists, it has also spawned a slew of fan websites and generated an entire tourist industry. The film adaptation, which opens this Friday, was merely inevitable.

Thankfully, the movie is able to transcend its own set of genre limitations. Coming-of-age bio-pics tend to be simplistic and nostalgic, with two narrative possibilities. Either growing up was idyllic with wonderful parents and a bucolic environment, or childhood was a nightmare with vindictive parents and teachers.

Angela's Ashes is neither. While the rain-soaked, poverty-strewn alleys of Limerick, Ireland were indeed a miserable place for anyone, much less a child, Frank McCourt's parents  are portrayed as lovable, if flawed, and his teachers are the usual mix of domineering and insightful.

The movie opens with McCourt's family in New York. But the tragedy of a newborn baby dying within days of its birth and the father's inability to hold down a job force the family to return to the mother's clan in Ireland. But Limerick is no better for young children, as two more of the brood die shortly thereafter. That legacy of death almost paralyzes Frank's mother Angela (Emily Watson, Breaking the Waves), forcing her husband Malachy (Robert Carlyle,  The Full Monty) to lead the way.

Unfortunately, Malachy does little better. Hindered by his Northern Ireland accent from finding a job and crippled by his alcoholism from the keeping the ones he gets, Frank and his family struggle to reach the poverty line, much less rise above it. Some of the movie's most poignant (and painful) moments show the father struggling with his addiction. Early on, we in the audience rejoice when Malachy finally gets a job; but when he blows his first paycheck in the pub, we can already see the handwriting on the wall. The next time he gets work, we fear the almost inevitable repetition. And when the family finally comes into a little money, we along with the family already know the final blow.

But Malachy can also be a wonderful father, as the movie goes out of its way to depict. As Frank says in a voiceover, "My dad was three kinds of persons: telling stories in the morning, looking for work in the afternoon, and drunk at night." And it's those morning tales that give him his humanity, and also set the stage for Frank's development.

Portraying this difficult character requires a fine actor, and Robert Carlyle is more than up to the challenge. His ability to embody the sheepish husband who knows he's done wrong is perfect, but Carlyle also carries the pride of a man who knows he's better than picking up coal in the alley.

Emily Watson is equally good as the mother. Though the film's story requires her to spend much of the movie in a semi-depressed state, Watson is graceful and stirring; and her anger at anything that threatens her children captures that innately maternal feeling. Watson and Carlyle also have a nice chemistry in their scenes together. These are two people trying to hold a marriage together despite their outer surroundings and inner demons.

Of course, this is a boy's story. And while his parents are important facets of that, the movie succeeds because of the three actors that play Frank at various stages of his life. Joe Breen is particularly good as the young Frank who tries to understand why his family can't get out of the slum. And Michael Legge is strong as the older Frank who falls in love with both Shakespeare (reading it in a hospital lavatory) and a neighbor girl. 

As befitting its Pulitzer-prize-winning material, the script is sharp and funny. When Frank is belittled for his footwear, one teacher comes to his aid with the hilarious line: "You don't see the Lord hanging on the cross sportin' shoes." Unfortunately, the heavy use of voiceover gets old after a while. The language might be nice, but it's usually just explaining what we've already seen on the screen.

Those images on the screen, courtesy of director Alan Parker (The Commitments, Midnight Express) and cinematographer Michael Seresin (Midnight Express), are evocative parts of the story. The rain-soaked, dark gray alleys and the emphasis on blacks and grays set the dreary mood that's critical for this tale. The movie could almost have been shot in black-and-white, but the subtle use of color only adds to the bleakness. Kudos should also go to John Williams' subtle score. It's nice, sparse use of period music contrasts with most Irish-set films, which usually beat us over the head with tin whistles and the like.

Angela's Ashes is a strong, entertaining tale of one boy's childhood. Though the story and mood are dreary, the fundamental human traits of struggle and family shine brightly. 

J. Robert Parks 1/17/2000