The true strength of a movie rests on how much it can convince you, the audience, that what is occurring on the screen is real. That the characters who are moving around, bumping into each other, changing directions and each other's lives at a moment's notice... well, they're just like you. Aimless. Lost. Alone. And beautiful.

No movie translates these feelings quite as well as Central Station, circa 1998. Station was recently shown as part of the Latin Film Festival in honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, but it hopefully is available at your favorite video store right now. Here's why you should get it, and soon:

Central Station documents the journey of two average characters in Rio de Janeiro. Isadora is a retired teacher who "makes ends meet" by writing letters for individuals at the train station. She is bitter and disillusioned about life; she reads the letters with her neighbor and decides which ones to throw out.

The hopes and dreams of many illiterate people wind up in a sort of purgatory, if not the trash can - she has a drawer filled with notes she can't quite bring herself to throw away.

"Dora's" world changes when she meets little Josue, a young boy whose mother is killed by a bus near the station. Josue is all spite and defiance, and in an environment where looters who steal trinkets are immediately shot, Dora sees fit to take him to get help. The wonderful thing about Station is that the moments of compassion never stray far from reality --she takes him to an "adoptee" family that looks anything but promising and pockets the $1,000 they give her.

What does she do with the money? She promptly buys a TV.

Dora soon realizes that she's made a terrible choice for the boy --"There's a limit to everything," her friend tells her - and rescues him from the family. They're after her though, so together the pair must flee. Dora decides to take Josue to find his father, a supposed drunk to whom Josue's mother had her write a letter in the opening of the movie.

Josue is played with perfection by 10-year-old Vincius de Oliveira, supposedly found in an airport by Station's director, Walter Salles. When Josue's face cracks, betraying all the sadness and pain underneath his resolve to find his father, the affect is heart-wrenching. Meanwhile, Fernanda Montenegro becomes Dora in every conceivable way; the part is engraved on every line on her face, in her every reaction.

Their relationship makes the movie everything it is, and what it is is amazing. Little Josue rails at Dora, telling her she is ugly and needs to wear makeup. She tells him that he is a curse. But that's what it's like in reality: Love and fear are intermixed, and defensiveness turns care into harm. Throughout their trials - no money, strange travelling companions, each other - the two grow closer, until their relationship actually glows on the screen. It's like the two are real, and we're watching from a distance. It's beautiful.

Both the cinematography and the score compliment this response. The camera moves silently, establishing long shots, showcasing every aspect of the gorgeous county. The music is swift and calm, not overbearing or distracting. A piano hovers above tears, call and response violins talk for the characters when they, in turn, are too sad to speak. It is a film of accentuation, moving only to make the light around the two main characters even brighter and succeeding.

Central Station's glory comes in saying that indeed, there is a limit to everything. People must be a part of each other's lives. One must do the right thing where he or she can. And it makes us what we are: human, and damn worth watching.