Like the power of music itself, Music Box is a divulging requiem that tortures as it entertains.

Costa-Gavras' powerful film brings to light difficult but thought provoking questions and creates such a tense atmosphere that the final revelation is completely stunning.

The story concentrates on devoted lawyer Ann Talbot -- played brilliantly by Jessica Lange -- who must defend her father against charges that he is an infamous Nazi war criminal, played by Armin Mueller-Stahl.

The most incredible aspect of the film is the build to the eventual climax. Costa-Gavras weaves a web of intrigue that grows not like a cheesy thriller but a malignancy. More and more through the course of the film, one assumes the innocence of the seemingly good-natured, hard-working Michael Laszlo.

The dilemma in which Ann is placed increases the air of tension. She is defending a man accused of heinous crimes; however, this is a man whom she thinks she knows wholly. As Ann's own suspicion grows, she must fight her uncertainty to prevent an emotional breakdown.

Lange brings these contradictions to light with incredible ease. She successfully and subtly displays Ann's Hungarian heritage. The development and change in Ann are also easily illuminated. Lange's performance reaches beyond the character and ventures into unused gestures and techniques. She is phenomenal.

As the suspected war criminal, Mueller-Stahl is also inventive. Throughout the film, he walks a thin line between supreme goodness and evil incarnate. Could this anti-Communist and loving father be the vermin for whom the government seeks? Or is he just the gentle old man which his countenance suggests?

These questions lead to another aspect of the film's intrigue. On the whole, it is a substantial and well-conceived courtroom drama. The scenes in the courtroom have a feeling of professionalism and decorum and seem natural.

The nitty gritty of the film is played out in the investigative process. The courtroom scenes provide moments of sheer emotion, which stir the senses. Through witnesses, Ann becomes increasingly confident of her father's acquittal, but also of her father's possible guilt.

It is this discrepancy that scrambles the mind. There is a deep-seeded want to see this man be as good as he appears, return to his life as a doting grandfather, completely deny the ever-growing suspicion of guilt.

The queries raised by the film cause this dilemma. There is even a tendency to look a little more closely at people in general.

This effective paranoia seems to be Costa-Gavras' aim. Are there people in the world who can spend years of their lives masquerading as everyday citizens but harbor such dark pasts underneath? True, there is a limit to the paranoia, the ticket taker and the candy counter salesperson are above reproach, but still Music Box is powerful for the mere entertainment of suspicious ideas.