Gabourey Sidibe and Mo'Nique head up this unlikely cast of Oscar hopefuls in Lee Daniels' adaptation of Sapphire's novel Push -- a story of an inner-city teenager trying to make her way through a tangled world of abuse, betrayal and incest. Though the film is so bleak, it crosses the boundary into victim porn, the performances are so compelling and sympathetic, we're invested in the outcome -- even if we've been relieved of the illusion of a happy ending. Tough, but memorable and genre-bashing, Precious is a subversive gem.

Starring: Gabourey Sidibe, Mo'Nique, Mariah Carey

Rating: Four stars out of five

We've seen this story before. We just haven't seen it naked.

Precious -- also known as Push: Based in the Novel by Sapphire -- essentially picks up a Cinderella archetype as it tells the story of a young woman trying to make her way through the hazards of a hateful world.

Like Cinderella, Precious Jones (Gabourey Sidibe) is stuck in a hostile place around malevolent caregivers. Her substance-abusing mother sits around on the couch in a state of fermented hate, and her father only visits in violent, incestuous flashbacks.

The only moments of parental connection take place when mom finds the energy to hurl heavy objects at her only daughter.

It's an ugly place to call home, but Precious finds a way to manage because the outside world isn't much kinder to the overweight outsider. The kids on the block call her nasty names, and her peers at school have mastered the crass art of Precious ridicule.

A lesser soul could easily be swallowed up by self-loathing given the circumstances, but not Precious. She's an unlikely fighter, and when a kind and concerned teacher recognizes her academic potential, Precious is given a second chance at life.

Before you start thinking Dangerous Minds, or Step Up, or 8 Mile, or even Half Nelson, or any movie about a kid from the wrong side of the tracks who gets a chance to prove him or herself to the great big world, remember Precious may be a familiar story -- but it's told without any of the genre-marking politesse.

Director Lee Daniels clearly feels no compulsion to pretty-up the picture -- literally or figuratively.

Shot with little money on a tight schedule, the film's rough frames and visible grain lend the film a documentary style of authenticity, as well as an immediacy that undermines any latent fairy tale sensibility.

By the time Mom drops the television, we can't possibly hold out any hope the movie will end with a happily-ever-after. Daniels scrambles all the signals, pulling us into the tragic arc with the dreamer's belief that hard work and a good soul will always transcend the petty hate.

We want to believe Precious will rise above the misfortune and neglect, and because we've seen the likes of Michelle Pfeiffer save souls just like hers, we're seduced by the template of romantic perseverance.

Daniels leads us straight down the garden path of scented sweet roses, too. He seems to enjoy the Hollywood jig of attainable salvation and even goes so far as to include moments of comic relief and a climax of unbridled apology and regret.

But Daniels abandons the very cliche he seemed to be affirming by making Precious suffer so much without throwing us a happy, pappy ending.

In many ways, the movie is victim porn because it revels in one horror after another as Precious Jones is continually beaten and battered by life. In the long tradition of female victim-heroines, Precious ranks right up there with the most tragic Victorian sob sisters.

The collective performance value easily does the rest. Newcomer Gabby Sidibe, a former receptionist who answered a general casting call, completely owns the central character and infuses her with a palpable sweetness and sincerity that keeps us sympathetic to the whole story, even when it sails off the rails.

Mo'Nique's turn as Precious' booze-soaked and pill-poppin' Mama is one of those jaw-dropping embodiments of ugliness that make you stand back and admire the bravery of the performer. Even Mariah Carey coughs up some decidedly non-glitter moments as a social worker stuck between the limits of her job and the requirements of the law.

Every woman on screen delivers so much soul and narrative love, the good feelings override the hate, betrayal and establishment resentment writhing beneath the surface.

There's no doubt Precious is a difficult film for many reasons, but just as the film suggests, sometimes the toughest experiences are the ones that prove the most worthwhile.

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