BY PAUL E. JOHNSON | Evil is a subjective concept - to a point. Somewhere in the history of society, a line was drawn as thick as the planet itself to mark the human race's no-fly zone, a place in which the essential wrongness of an evil cannot be debated or considered, only emphatically reviled by our species as a whole. In the entirety of recorded history, no one man has been so thoroughly equated with that Absolute Evil as Adolf Hitler. His legacy and persona are almost supernatural in their ability to evoke a collective gag reflex, and as a symbol of the worst elements of human nature is second only to Satan (and for many, even that ranking is debatable).

So it is with no small level of discomfort that some people are approaching "Max", a story about Hitler's early days as a struggling artist in the years leading up to the rise of the Nazis. The concept of Der Fuhrer as nothing more or less than a man has already caused a certain degree of controversy, though unfortunately much of the rhetoric being tossed about has less to do with the film than it does to do with the gall displayed by the filmmakers in embarking on a project which could potentially humanize the German leader.

It's a shame, as "Max" is an interesting and intimate little film which, in truth, does humanize Adolf Hitler. It throws away the iconography and the symbolism of what Hitler meant to the world, and looks at him solely as the nasty little misfit next door, the guy you talk to more out of pity for his loneliness than out of any desire to be in a room with him. It's this sort of sentiment which initially draws art dealer Max Rothman (John Cusack) to Hitler (Noah Taylor) when they meet outside one of Max's shows. Having lost his arm in the war, Max is sympathetic to fellow veteran Hitler, and when he learns of the angry young soldier's desire to be an artist, invites Hitler to bring his work by at some point.

The two men engage in a tense, uneasy friendship as Max tries to encourage Hitler's artistic pursuits. Max sees Hitler's work as too stifled, objective q technically adept with no sense of self. He pushes Adolf to go deeper; to birth his vision of the world into the reality of the canvas. Hitler is blocked, however. Hungry, poor and with no prospects to speak of, he is recruited by his commanding officer (Ulrich Thomsen) to assist in a propaganda campaign designed to promote the concept of an Aryan Germany, a commission which pays Hitler a desperately needed stipend.

Taylor is a powerhouse, just astoundingly good as an insecure, hypocritical, tormented Hitler desperately searching for his calling in life. Unlikable to a fault and yet somehow charismatic, Taylor makes evil a composition of the petty, base behaviors which find their own levels in all of us. Politically zealous one moment and apparently disinterested the next, Hitler seems an unlikely leader with little in the way of social graces or refinement. Rather, Hitler shadows Max like a puppy, alternately berating the art dealer for his softness and pining for his acceptance. Hitler's passion for art over politics is unnerving, creating a sense of foreboding which builds to a chilling crescendo as he scribbles out his grand epiphany, 'ART + POLITICS = POWER' onto paper. Taylor manages to capture Hitler at once as pathetic and ominous, and all the more terrifying for being all the more real.

As an actor, John Cusack's baggage as Nice Guy Extraordinaire deepens his part in Hitler's development, adding resonance to the tragic role of Max, a character whose road to hell is paved with his own good intentions. Cusack's sheer likeability makes it painful to watch as he drives Hitler towards his awful destiny out of a desire to help the young artist. Max is a flawed man haunted by his own war demons, and the empathy he extends towards Hitler becomes the catalyst for his own, ill-fated journey towards healing old wounds. Cusack knows how to become a magnet for an audience's sympathy, and adeptly uses it to draw us deeply into a world for which there can be no happy ending. His optimism for all things involving The Future is as condemning as it is touching.

It's a carefully nuanced performance that deserves to be a watermark in Cusack's career.

The relationship between the two men is the film's axis, though the movie moves sluggishly when the plot meanders too far from it. Likewise, the pace often stutters as many of the film's points are made more than once without any sort of advancement.

Known primarily as a writer for Steven Spielberg, Menno Meyjes transitions successfully into the director's chair with a respectable debut effort. Meyjes allows the film's insights to live quietly beside the characters' lives without ever taking a heavy-handed or sermonizing tone. By setting aside the myth without disregarding it, Meyjes enables Hitler's own humanity, fearful as it may be to some, to judge both the man and the icon in a far harsher light than any rudimentary history lesson.

Grade B-