Three women: the hours shines on-screen, borne on the shoulders of Nicole Kidman, Julianne Moore, and Meryl Streep.

The Hours * Written by David Hare, from the novel by Michael Cunningham * Directed by Stephen Daldry * Starring Nicole Kidman, Julianne Moore, Meryl Streep * Paramount/Miramax

Currently in theaters, Adaptation is all about writer Charlie Kaufman's inability to make a movie out of Susan Orlean's The Orchid Thief But viewers would be better served at the multiplex in choosing The Hours, in which playwright David Hare actually succeeds in bringing out author Michael Cunningham's multilayered narrative to the screen.

In Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, the author tells the entire story of the title character's life by portraying just one day of it: when she is putting together a party. Cunningham (and now Hare) borrows this device to tell the story of three women: Woolf herself (played by Nicole Kidman) on the day she begins writing Mrs. Dalloway and is preparing for a visit from her sister Vanessa (Miranda Richardson); post-World War II housewife Laura Brown (Julianne Moore), who is reading Mrs. Dalloway and making a cake for her husband's birthday; and Clarissa Vaughan (Mewl Streep), a present-day woman who is mounting a huge celebration for her dear friend Richard (Ed Harris), who calls her "Mrs. Dalloway" and is nearing the end of his battle with AIDS.

For the first 10 minutes or so, a viewer could easily be forgiven for fearing whiplash from the film's "meanwhile, at the Woolfs' house" structure, but the film quickly settles into a pace that allows it to tell its parallel stories clearly and cogently. And while not every nugget of Cunningham's novel has made it to the screen--Clarissa's girlfriend, Sally (Allison Janney), is probably the biggest victim of trimming--The Hours nonetheless packs a wallop. It's the kind of movie that left me unable to talk about it for some time afterward.

Stephen Daldry's direction is most notable for the performances he's elicited from his trio of actresses. Moore's housewife here represents a completely different spin than the one she brings to her similar but so different role in Far From Heaven. Her Laura Brown is a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown--not surprisingly, Pedro Almodovar had fervently hoped to adapt this book--and she doesn't shy away from the character's darker corners. Meryl Streep once again delivers a performance loaded with nuance and observation; you forget she's Our Greatest Living Actress and follow her everywhere she wants to take you. (She's also the best thing about Adaptation--and had Kaufman written this movie, he certainly would have left in the scene from the book where Clarissa waits outside a movie location trailer to see if Meryl Streep will emerge.) And while Kidman's performance here isn't quite the revelation that her work in Moulin Rouge and The Others was, she brings a mad, haunted stateliness to Woolf, capturing an artist about to create her masterwork while constantly keeping the demons of insanity at bay.

These three performances dominate the film, but Harris, Toni Collette (as a model mid-century wife who fears for her life), and John C. Reilly (playing Moore's jovially oblivious husband) also get their moments to shine. The only note that feels false is Jeff Daniels's somewhat goosey portrayal of Harris's former lover. He's played gay before--most notably on Broadway in Fifth of July--but this character plays more like a collection of mannerisms than an actual human being.

Out producer Scott Rudin has brought a Big Movie sheen to the proceedings that enhances but never distracts. With Philip Glass's typically understated score, Ann Roth's spot-on costumes, and Seamus McGarvey's contrasting styles of cinematography for each of the film's three eras, The Hours feels plush, not overstuffed. This may be a prestige picture, but unlike other movies designed to awe you with their pedigree, it at least has a beautiful mind in its head.

It could be argued that pop culture is being dragged kicking into the new millennium when one of the year's biggest Oscar-bait movies has a powerful lesbian subtext running all the way through it, but that's neither here nor there. What ultimately counts about The Hours is its powerful portrayal of fear, anxiety, love, loss, and hope. Oh, the humanity, indeed.