During his lifetime, Patrick O'Brian penned twenty Aubrey/Maturin naval adventures—wildly popular and detailed accounts of the British Navy's exploits during the Napoleonic Wars. Back in 1991 Richard Snow wrote in The New York Times Book Review that O'Brian's series are "the best historical novels ever written." Using Lord Cochrane as the model for his hero, O'Brian vividly recreates the era and as Snow states, "reminds us with subtle artistry of the most important of all historical lessons: that times change but people don't."

As popular as O'Brian's series has been, a tremendous resurgence of interest is now inevitable with Peter Weir's exuberant adaptation of Master and Commander. Not only does Weir research the period so meticulously that even the blasted word shards and splinters break loose with early 19th Century authenticity, but he populates the swashbuckling epic with characters we can care about. Captain "Lucky" Jack Aubrey (Russell Crowe) and ship doctor Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany) create the same dynamics and chemistry that the central figures of Star Trek achieve in another century in other universes.

Like Kirk, Aubrey clearly demonstrates strong leadership and must creatively devise plans to defeat superior enemies while continually considering the lives of his crew (197 on the HMS Surprise). Balancing Aubrey's energy, is the calmer and more logical Maturin who combines the qualities of McCoy and Spock in his dual role as surgeon and scientist. The closeness of the two men's friendship is emphasized by their violin and cello duets, through frank but respectful disagreements in closed quarters, and subtle in-jokes between the pair.

So no matter how intense the fighting gets or how much the storms rage, the scope of the film comfortably returns to this central relationship, preventing the film from spinning carelessly off its axis. Such a carelessness we'd never expect from Weir, who's famous for selecting subjects that deal with significant and often intimate issues—Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Last Wave, Witness, Dead Poets Society, etc. The fare this time is more reminiscent of The Wrath of Khan, complete with a fortuitous fog bank saving Lucky Jack's crew instead of a dense nebula. Although it doesn't have a devilishly cheesy Ricardo Montalban to delightfully spew out invectives at his heroic nemesis, the tale still boils down to a basic David vs. Goliath plot, as Lucky Jack must outsmart a mysterious super ship in his relatively small frigate.

Set off the coast of Brazil in 1803, Aubrey's mission is to take on the French warship Acheron, which has been destroying and looting British merchant vessels at will. Weir immediately plunges us into that world in mesmerizing fashion, and you don't have to be able to tie a sheepshank to appreciate it. As the timbers rhythmically creak, the camera slowly rolls with the waves under deck to give us our sea legs. Up top a young midshipman uses his spyglass to squint through the fog and fancies a possible enemy ship at 2 o'clock. Soon the men are wakened and summoned to their posts, yet no one can confirm the phantom ship until Aubrey spots a distant flash, commands "DOWN!," and all Hell breaks loose.

This is one of two major battle sequences that occur during the film. Add a spectacular raging storm as the HMS Surprise is tossed around Cape Horn, and you'll feel as fulfilled as a rollercoaster fanatic at Magic Mountain on a weekday. It's as predictable as the theme park's Viper ride, and Weir telegraphs the turning point trick pretty early in the game with the surgeon's keen interest and observations of the Galapagos wildlife, but that's all forgivable for a film that entertains as well as it does.

This is no message movie designed to stimulate your gray matter like many of Weir's previous work. On the other hand, the film doesn't talk down to the audience and subtly educates us about the way life was lived on the seas in the early 1800s—the living quarters and routine, the meals, the numerous pre-pubescent boys in training. But beyond creating a believable universe from the past, Master and Commander is primarily designed as a fun filled visceral piece that introduces some interesting, likeable characters. Even the usual droll Crowe seems to enjoy the ride!

Away from battling French frigates and the elements, Weir effectively fills in the main characters as well as sufficiently introducing other crewmembers. Over dinner, Crowe displays a sense of humor, sharing one of the year's better movie puns about a couple of hungry weevils as well as reverently relating the first sentence that Admiral Nelson ever said to him. Despite the humor of that initial exchange, it's obvious that Aubrey idolizes the legendary naval hero as tears well up in his eyes when he recalls his exploits—and this is two years before Trafalgar. Aubrey represents the best leadership possible for its day—unabashedly courageous and driven, he is fair to his men even when considering the disciplinary lashing he orders, yet he shows touches of compassion and calls on his friend Maturin to provide honest feedback.

There is a point in the movie where that relationship is sorely tested when Aubrey places duty over friendship, made all the more palpable due to the chemistry between the two actors. This may have been aided by the fact that both Crowe and Bettany had worked together in A Beautiful Mind, with Bettany playing Crowe's imaginary roommate. I could an audible audience gasp when the friendship is breached, but somehow you just know that these two will work through the situation.

After all, Aubrey pulls off a miracle to save his men from a monster ship and to get them through a spectacular storm that far surpasses A Perfect Storm's computer generated reality while Maturin successfully performs brain surgery on a rolling deck that would have most men barfing over the side. So a personal tiff certainly won't stand up in the face of greater challenges, and naturally the film pays off. Master and Commander doesn't rank among the year's most profound and artistic endeavors, but Peter Weir crafts his film like Hitchcock's Lifeboat on steroids, proving that he can successfully handle an epic adventure without losing the small touches and human characters along the way.