If Edward Zwick was ever spiteful about being at the end of the alphabet, he can take heart that his film Glory fights to the top of 1989's cavalry of movies.

Glory is a sweeping portrait of the Civil War's 54th regiment --the first all-black regiment. The film is much more than a war movie; it poignantly examines the men who served in the 54th, telling their story of heroism. Glory's strength stems from the strong portrayals of these historical personages.

Matthew Broderick leads the charge as young Col. Robert Gould Shaw, a boy of 23. Broderick brings to light the difficulties -- such as racism and resentment of older, yet lower ranked officers --Shaw faced. Broderick's days of playing second fiddle to the likes of Dustin Hoffman are waning, as here he proves himself in a major dramatic lead.

Glory aims to expose the great commitment of black soldiers during the Civil War. However, unlike last year's disappointing Mississippi Burning, the appearance of strong black characters precipitates a greater understanding of the film's goal. Whereas in Mississippi the civil rights turmoil seemed less potent because the black perspective was not significantly present, in Glory the black soldiers make up the crux of the narrative and their stories produce less plasticized personas.

These characters come to life with the excellence of a talented supporting cast. Denzel Washington mixes burgeoning cynicism with a true sense of honor in his character, Trip. While Trip denies the offer to carry the flag into battle, his fireside speech before the major assault shows his emotional commitment to the entity for whom he fights. Washington's portrayal of this contradictory force is subtle, yet powerful.

Morgan Freeman offers another moving portrait as Rawlins, the elder-statesman of the new regiment. Freeman's performing expertise is apparent in the currently showing Driving Miss Daisy, and he is no less impressive in Zwick's historical drama.

Rawlins displays more hope for the future than the pessimistic Trip; perhaps his escape from slavery has molded him so.

The strong characters play out history against a breathtaking photographic style, thanks to director of photography Freddie Francis. Together Zwick and Francis mold a tireless escapade into the virtues of the cinematic long take. Many of the long-lasting shots are of vast, open distances.

This technique causes the screen to almost suck the air from the audience and creates emotion laden scenes. Through the concurrent use of James Horner's score and the harmony of The Boys Choir of Harlem, the finely orchestrated balance between music and photography leads to many a teary-eyed moment.

It would be easy to turn Glory into a message movie, condemning Hollywood for so long overlooking the contributions of blacks in history. It would also be tempting to gloss over the film and create only strong white characters.

Cheers to Zwick and company for doing neither in Glory, a film that entertains against a backdrop of undersimplified historical significance.