In the years since the Holocaust, the phrase "never again" has often been used to suggest that the world will never again allow genocide to flourish. Many assume that it hasn't happened since, that any such undertakings have been thwarted in their early stages. These assertions are comforting.

But then there is Rwanda.

In 1994, the Hutu ethnic majority, with the tacit support of the country's military, launched a campaign to rid Rwanda of the Tutsi minority. And they killed 800,000 of them before the bloodshed ended.

Just like many Holocaust films do, Hotel Rwanda begins with a nervous atmosphere that steadily gravitates towards one of imminent terror, to the growing bewilderment of the imperiled.

The imperiled, in this case, are the family and neighbors of Paul Rusesabagina, a member of the Hutu majority married to Tatiana, a Tutsi. After a close brush with the Hutu insurgency, Paul, his family and their Tutsi neighbors seek refuge in the hotel Paul manages while the civil war rages outside.

From then on, Paul uses his ingenuity and personal connections to keep his family, neighbors and eventually hundreds of other refugees from around the country safe. He is forced to do this alone because the "peacekeeping" United Nations has abruptly pulled out of the country.

As Paul, Don Cheadle strikes a perfect balance between the desperation that the situation calls for and the primal courage he somehow garners to overcome it. Sophie Okonedo, as Tatiana, is equally affecting and the compassion she feels for every last refugee is palpable.

The other character that I was particularly taken with was Jack, a brash photographer played skillfully by Joaquin Phoenix. Although his role is brief, Phoenix makes a strong impact by conveying an ashamed helplessness that many will undoubtedly share.

It's important to note that, for better or worse, Hotel Rwanda is a movie for all audiences. That is to say, although the film is terrifying at certain moments, director Terry George made the artistic decision to eschew showing any truly disturbing onscreen violence -- the kind, for instance, employed in Steven Spielberg's Schindler's List.

Some might question this decision on George's part, because sparing us the gore distances us somewhat from the gruesome reality of the tragedy.

Indeed, it seems that at least part of the reason for this must have been related to the film's PG-13 rating, a rating the filmmakers had to appeal to the Motion Picture Association of America to get.

I do not think this is a bad thing, however, for the same reason that the film's lack of visual flair is not a problem.

Hotel Rwanda needed to be made accessible to as many people as possible, even if that requires slight artistic sacrifices by those involved.

It's simply too important that this story be told.

And now that the film is nominated for three Academy Awards, I'm hoping that the American public finally will find its way to Hotel Rwanda.

I think the least that a privileged population can do for one so brutally ravaged is to glimpse the horror, in whatever mediated fashion is available, and become deeply enveloped in its tragic elements. Seeing stories like this helps increase our fickle vigilance well beyond the arbitrary assertion that it will "never again" reoccur.