Captain courageous

The seafaring novels of Patrick O'Brian are as far removed from the shivermetimbers, splice-the-main-brace fare of the modern Hollywood adventure product (think Pirates of the Caribbean or Cutthroat Island) as hard tack is from Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

Accordingly, Peter Weir's movie - which compresses two of O'Brian's novels into one - is driven by the momentum of character and a microscopic attention to detail, liberally seasoned with humour and idiosyncracy. Those who like their films awash with nautical cliches and a galleon chase every five minutes had better stay ashore.

It is a terrific Boy's Own adventure in the world of wet. The sea battles between Captain "Lucky" Jack Aubrey's ship, the HMS Surprise, and its quarry, the French ship, Acheron, are conveyed with ear-splitting, bonecrunching authenticity, and the crew members - from the tousle-haired child-midshipman Lord Blakeney (Max Pirkis), to the grizzled Able Seaman Joe Plaice (George Innes) - are appropriately characterful. But this is not just a ripping yarn, there is philosophy at its heart.

The enduring friendship between Russell Crowe's seaborne warrior Aubrey and the ship's surgeon/ naturalist Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany) provides the fulcrum of the film: the conflict between the worlds of action and reason, predator and healer, past and future. Both Crowe and Bettany, who worked together on A Beautiful Mind, strike an attractive balance of light and shade in their performances, with Crowe bringing a natural swagger and serious virility to Aubrey, even if he can't quite bring himself to embody O'Brian's description: "Like so many sailors he was rather fat." His self-awareness is both arrogant and amusing. "Name a shrub after me," says Aubrey to Maturin. "Something prickly and hard to eradicate."

Driven by a terrific script, Weir's film refers back to the heady romantic adventure movies of Delmar Davies and Raoul Walsh, but spruces them up in respect of historical, geographical and meteorological accuracy. Never have waves appeared more lethally awesome or fogbanks more pregnant with menace. In contrast, the contemplative moments in Aubrey's cabin, when he and Maturin indulge their mutual love of music by playing duets on viola and violoncello, are curiously moving.

Occasional conflict between the two friends throws Aubrey's natural leadership qualities into relief, and this is a theme which is central to the plot. The angelically blond midshipman Blakeney clearly possesses such qualities in abundance and, despite losing an arm early on in the movie, later takes temporary charge of the ship.

The lack of the same qualities in midshipman Hollom (Lee Ingleby) occasions an act of self-sacrifice that, in spite of Aubrey's best efforts, illustrates the fact that the sea is a cruel mistress and those who sail her require a singular strength of character to survive. Weir's fine movie provides ample evidence of the truth of this.

Master And Commander: The Far Side Of The World
Cert: 12A