I can't give "Birth" -- its due or its plot -- without noting, first, that Nicole Kidman is becoming one of the finest actresses of our time and, second, that her performance here is supported by one of the finest actresses of all time, Lauren Bacall.

		'Birth' Rating: R for sexuality. Starring: Nicole Kidman, Cameron Bright, Danny Huston, Lauren Bacall. Director: Jonathan Glazer.

"Birth," the deficiently titled mystery from director Jonathan Glazer, is an engrossing if not great psychodrama along the creepy lines of "Rosemary's Baby."

The little devil of this tale is Sean (Cameron Bright), a quiet boy not from hell but just a few blocks down the street from the posh Manhattan apartment where Anna (Kidman) and her family (materfamilias Bacall presiding) are gathered to celebrate Anna's engagement to Joe (Danny Huston).

Anna's first husband, who dropped dead on his daily jog in Central Park during the disarmingly idyllic opening sequence, was also named Sean. It has taken her 10 years to get over that, with Joe's help. Imagine her chagrin now, when this "little Sean" stranger shows up and solemnly tells her not to marry Joe.

Imagine her further chagrin when, soon enough, he tells her he is Sean -- the original -- suddenly undead and deadly serious about reclaiming his Anna. And when, despite being chastised and reported to his parents, he persists in stalking her. The kid knows intimate details of Anna's prior life, passing a series of tests conducted by his emotionally vulnerable love object and her suspicious family.

Reincarnation or a nasty prank?

Anna decides, against everybody's better judgment, that the only way to find out is by letting the boy live with her for a while -- thereby letting herself fall in love with him.

We and director Glazer ("Sexy Beast"), on the other hand, are busy falling in love with Kidman's face, exquisitely filmed in long, lingering zoom/tracking/close-ups reminiscent of the late great Kubrick's in "Eyes Wide Shut." Her inscrutable Garboesque expression leaves it for us to interpret the subtle agitation behind the mask: Is this an angel or demon she hovers over in the most erotic child-bathing scene since Garbo toweled off Philippe de Lacy in "Love," the silent version of "Anna Karenina"? Kidman is unnerved as well as unnerving throughout.

No such ambivalence on or in the part of her mother, especially during the fab dinner scenes when everyone is frightened not so much by what the Arch d'Bacall says as by what they're afraid she might say. (Her best acerbic zinger, upon glimpsing Sean at the table: "How's Mr. Reincarnation enjoying his cake?").

Having thus gushed over Nicole and "legendary Lauren," it's time to do so over Danny Huston, son of legendary John. He's the man with the unhappy smile -- a fascinating (and only recently turned) actor with an ominously cheerful mien. Huston recently delivered one of the most devastating performances I've ever seen (in a little-known gem of a tragedy called "ivan's xtc.," which you should run out and rent). Here, he represses his mounting hostility until it explodes in a wildly violent attack on the stone-faced boy during a string-trio recital! It's a delicious, riveting moment.

Before and after that, however, is a lot of dead time in which the impact of all those long, lingering close-ups diminishes from wondrous to ponderous. That, plus the whispery dialogue, makes it essential that you pay close attention to the Big Scene when our boy and a nefarious redhead finally collide to unravel the mystery.

There's a little less to that payoff -- and to "Birth" -- than meets the open or shut eyes.