Let me tell you why I love kids' movies. A good kids' movie works on one level as exciting, funny escapism for kindergartners.

A great kids' movie works on an additional level as exciting, funny escapism for adults.

Thus, great kids' movies are really two movies in one, so long as we have the ability to watch them through both lenses.

Pixar -- the company that brought us the Toy Story movies and Finding Nemo -- is no stranger to great kids' movies, and neither is writer-director Brad Bird, whose finest work includes the exceptionally underrated, animated Cold War flick The Iron Giant, not to mention the very funny-to-think-about "Do the Bartman" music video.

The two have teamed up to deliver The Incredibles, about a dysfunctional family of superheroes, which just turns out to be the best Pixar flick outside of the Toy Story franchise.

I say this not to detract from Finding Nemo or Monsters Inc., movies that I find quite enjoyable, but to highlight Bird's considerable artistic innovations that, for me, push this one over the top.

The Incredibles is the name of a family of superheroes, who, along with the rest of the superheroes on Earth, have been leading anonymous lives ever since they were rejected by a bureaucratic world that no longer wanted to be saved.

Bob Parr (aka super-strong Mr. Incredible) works a low-respect job at an insurance firm, where he is encouraged by his greedy boss to cheat customers out of the settlements they deserve.

His wife Helen (aka the stretchy Elastigirl) keeps herself busy trying to take care of their gifted but incorrigible children Dash (a devilish speed demon), Violet (invisible and insecure) and Jack Jack (the infant with no powers but cuteness).

Bob and his old superhero buddy Lucias Best -- voiced by Samuel L. Jackson -- sneak away from their dull home lives to listen to police scanners and occasionally intervene when they think they can safely help people without being spotted.

While on stakeout, they reminisce about the glory days and lament about the lack of excitement they face with their day jobs.

It is these early scenes, marked by a melancholy, if still comic, portrait of suburbia, that makes The Incredibles truly transcendent.

Bird's stark visual allegories allude amazingly to other classics of middle-class suburban angst like The Apartment and American Beauty.

Who would have ever expected that from a kids' movie?

Don't worry though. The Incredibles is not a depressing in the least.

The humor and adventure really pick up when Bob is recruited by a mysterious, leggy (once again, for the adults) silver-haired lady, named Mirage, to do some freelance superhero work for hire.

Bob is elated, of course, at the opportunity to be a superhero again, although he first must undergo a training montage -- a cinematic device, which, thanks to Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the world may never again take seriously.

Bob keeps his work a secret from everyone but Edna "E" Mode -- a hilariously snarky, petite superhero fashion designer -- and that means he must mislead his own family, resulting in a situation that reminds us somewhat of True Lies, but not enough to throw a fuss about.

In another nod to True Lies, it's Bob's wife who rallies to rescue him when his job lands him in mortal danger. But the twist is she unintentionally brings her kids along with her.

The Incredibles is often humorous, occasionally exciting, and consistently engaging in the way it deals not just with heroism, but with family dynamics.

My only complaint is how under-utilized Sam Jackson's character is. Whenever he's onscreen, he's funny, likeable and, when we see him fight, awesome, but there's a gap of about a half hour or so where he's not in the movie at all, even though he very easily could have been written in, and his presence is missed.

Is The Incredibles a kids' movie? Yup.

Is it just for kids?

If you think so, you're really missing out.