As an avid bibliophile, I couldn't help but notice the buzz surrounding Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees. However, my discomfort with the stinging insects is deep-seated enough that I never ventured close enough to see what all of the fuss was about. If I'm going to invest several days in a novel, I'd prefer not to worry about it sparking nightmares involving the nefarious doings of honeybees. I stored the title away in my mind until it resurfaced in a movie trailer, and I figured maybe it was time to give this story a shot. I really didn't know too much going into it, aside from the fact that the novel had been praised particularly by women. That's understandable, considering the fact that the five primary characters are female and the tale, in large part, concerns the quest of a 14-year-old girl to make peace with the specter of her long-departed mother.

The teen is the imaginative, spirited Lily Owens (Dakota Fanning), who, haunted by the circumstances of her mother's death, decides to seek answers in a town with a mysterious link to her past. Guided by the clue of a portrait of a dark-skinned Mary and Jesus, she makes her way to a handsome estate that churns out highly praised honey. Accompanying her is housekeeper Rosaleen (Jennifer Hudson), who Lily liberates from unjust imprisonment after an ugly run-in with some local bigots opposed to the freshly minted Civil Rights Act of 1964. Both find welcome under the roof of matronly August Boatwright (Queen Latifah), expert beekeeper, though her prickly sister June (Alicia Keys) fears these unexpected visitors will bring trouble.

Fanning has been impressing me for several years, ever since her outstanding work in I Am Sam. Now a teenager, she shows no sign of burn-out. This role calls for raw emotion and vulnerability, a tricky combination of premature world-weariness and naive wonder that she pulls off beautifully. She's bolstered by an equally strong supporting cast, starting with Hudson; their early scenes together carry echoes of Huckleberry Finn as their friendship is tested and strengthened by a perilous journey.

Latifah exudes calm wisdom in a part similar in many ways to her role in last year's Hairspray, and Keys offers the alternate perspective of a woman whose sufferings have hardened her. Most interesting of all is Sophie Okonedo as their sister May, a woman so profoundly empathetic that she is able to assuage the weight of her grief only by purging her sorrows at her own personal wailing wall. Her uncommon compassion is both blessing and curse, fueled by a wrenching childhood tragedy, and it manifests itself in deeply affecting ways. Of all the performances in the film, Okonedo's stands out to me as the most Oscar-worthy.

While most of the focus is on these women and how they help build one another up, the men are not neglected. Nate Parker is endearing as Neil, who pursues June with dogged determination and introduces the question of whether the bond of marriage is worth the loss of freedom it entails. Tristan Wilds lights up the screen as energetic, ambitious Zachary Taylor, who gives Lily her first taste of romance, while Paul Bettany is unrecognizable as her snarly father, whose own scars are exposed even as he inflicts pain on others. His character is probably the meatiest of the men though he doesn't spend much time on screen; much like baddie daddy Roger Linus on LOST, he inspires both revulsion and sympathy.

The bees themselves come into the film fairly infrequently, though of course they are the Boatwrights' lifeblood, and even I can attest to a certain magic in the scenes in which Lily ever so gently explores the bees' bustling world under the approving gaze of August or Zach. There is light and beauty in their harmony with the world around them. Inside the house, too, is a sense of comfort; it feels more homelike than Lily's own tattered abode ever did, and the theme of motherhood is amplified with the presence of an unusual statue of the Virgin Mary.

Without having read the book, I can't say how faithfully screenwriter-director Gina Prince-Bythewood adapted it, but taken on its own merits, the film is wholly engrossing. Mark Isham's sparse score subtly elevates key moments, while beloved hymns and Motown classics are woven into the fabric of the plot, demonstrating that music is yet another source of unity among the disenfranchised. Painful undercurrents propel the film toward a conclusion whose optimism is well-earned. I recommend it especially for teenagers due to its historical significance and contemporary relevance, and men shouldn't shy away just because the marketing seems to target women. The Secret Life of Bees is a celebration of life, of love overcoming deep-set divisions. In other words, it's worth the buzz.

Recommended: Yes