by MATTHEW HAYS

Cutting through the hype surrounding V for Vendetta is no easy task. The film, penned by the Wachowski Bros. and based on the landmark comic book by Alan Moore, stars Natalie Portman and Hugo Weaving as renegades in a future Britain, a dystopia served up with military dictatorship, strict press censorship and brutal state-sanctioned homophobia. (Moore says his inspiration for the original comic book arrived soon after Thatcher took power in ’79, which makes perfect sense.) Given the Wachowskis’ Matrix track record, V for Vendetta is already spawning all sorts of press, not to mention Moore’s denunciation of the project, referring to it as rubbish and demanding that his name be removed from the credits.

As a film, V for Vendetta holds up very well. Director James McTeigue (a long-time assistant director to the Wachowskis, who insists he was not their puppet during the shoot) injects the entire affair with an aura of creepiness that never really lets up. As much as the graphic novel drew on Thatcher, the film infuses the script with a good deal of post-9/11, but especially post-Iraq war residue. For instance, in the film, anyone in Britain caught in possession of a Koran is immediately executed. And through clever media clips (the public is entirely cynical of the TV news, as it’s become a dreary Soviet-style state run operation), we learn that America is now little more than “a leper colony,” overrun by disease and civil war. Britain has morphed into a religious-zealot theocracy, meaning citizens have to listen to sermonizing about what God wants for the public good. Now that Harper’s in charge, we Canadians can join in on the anxiety too.

Amid it all, Natalie Portman, a sweet-natured TV news staffer, finds herself involved with V (Weaving), a mysterious man who unleashes acts of destructive rebellion against the regime. On top of the hate list of Britain’s evil leader (played to perfection by John Hurt), V is prone to run-ins with the authorities. Behind that mask is an invincible force, however, and V intends to do his best to bring down the baddies. Along the way, naturally, he falls for dear Portman, who is so good here she almost makes up for those dreadful Star Wars movies she did.

V for Vendetta will certainly press some buttons—it’s intent on doing just that—as it sympathizes seriously with someone branded a terrorist, even one who uses subway trains to transport explosives. (If you think about it, though, it’s really not all that shocking, given that V is a Briton who was done wrong by the government, not a terrorist of the Islamic fundamentalist variety.) Despite the hefty themes, V for Vendetta works primarily as it should, as great entertainment. Weaving manages a good range—quite a feat, given that he’s behind a mask for the entire film—and the plot is suitably unconventional as to keep the audience engaged. I don’t know if this thing is going to unleash another franchise of Matrix proportions, but V for Vendetta is solid, occasionally thought-provoking fun.

V for Vendetta opens Friday, March 17

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