Aronofsky’s script (co-written with Ari Handel) doesn’t approach these topics subtly (and in fairness subtlety has never been a concern of Aronofsky), and without the towering presence of Russell Crowe as the Biblical patriarch I don’t know that it would have worked. Noah, being quite self-serious, often veers into silly territory, and some of the film’s performances are problematically overblown (Jennifer Connelly has a big moment that simply isn’t modulated properly, even considering it comes after all life on Earth has been exterminated by a flood), but Crowe - who in recent films has been given to a certain non-Kosher hamminess - is incredible. His Noah is a man of quiet principle whose descent into zealotry is sketched so finely that when he’s stalking around the ark glowering like a murderer you feel weird for still empathizing with him. Crowe understands the bombastic tone for which Aronofsky is striving, and he plays right below it, his face a cloud of troubles that reflects the superstorms that swallow the world later in the film. He knows that the movie itself is BIG, so he plays Noah’s struggles internally. It’s the kind of performance that reminds you why this phone-throwing bar band leader was once considered one of our finest actors: because he is.