“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” is a welcome departure for a director known for offbeat thrillers; David Fincher. It’s also a high point for Brad Pitt, and a nearly heroic gamble for the two studios behind it, Warner and Paramount.

This is a quixotic, meditative movie with a sensibility unlike any other in recent memory. Its stubbornly adult story telling took me completely by surprise. A rambling fable about the fleeting nature of love and life, it’s most effective in its quietest moments, which are many.

The source material, a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, sketches the life of a child born old, who becomes progressively younger with the passing of years. It’s a stunt, for sure, but it soon takes a back seat to larger issues. And it’s huge. Each of its many episodes is elaborately detailed, from a boisterous New Orleans in the 20s, to pre World War II Russia, to the theater scene in New York City during the 50s. Most are visually striking, but what makes them work is how they’re married to the characters.

For a film that runs over two and a half hours the story line is almost frighteningly slim. A horridly wrinkled newborn, abandoned by his birth father, is taken in by a kind African American, (played marvelously by Taraji P. Henson,) and raised in a home for the aged. While not expected to live, the baby evolves into a decrepit 85 year old, and then, keeps getting younger. Early on the “old” Benjamin becomes friends with Daisy, a precocious little girl who goes off to become a dancer. Although the two mature on their own, they eventually fall in love, only to grow apart as fate takes them to different destinies.

Daisy, richly played by Cate Blanchett, is the only one who truly understands how Benjamin’s life has proceeded, and how it might end. Their affair, as it blossoms, is delicately understated, in the best way. Unexpectedly the movie pleads a passionate case for the value of long term relationships.

There are almost no large, showy moments. A single wartime episode is quick, effective, and then done. People come and go like wisps of smoke that dissipate just as you realize their importance. But the cumulative effect is quite powerful. Fincher wisely chose to underplay the freakish nature of Benjamin’s life. The few people with whom he has any continuity accept him for what he is; eventually so do we.

The movie has taken a rap in some quarters more for what it’s not than what it is. Eric Roth, acclaimed screenwriter of “Forrest Gump,” has chosen a very different path here. Gump was a also a big movie filled with startling effects, a classic “tall tale” narrated by a character with a profound handicap. But there the similarity ends. Gump was a simpleton, whose nature was obvious to everyone he met. Button’s odd circumstances remain unknown to most. As he matures, however, his youth subtly robs him, which gives the story just enough of an edge to illustrate the human dilemma from a slightly different point of view, a view that finally underscores the difficulty of breaking the confines of our solitary nature.

There are four or five too many flashbacks to the aged Blanchett, as she tries to explain Benjamin to her daughter. These bookmarks, or bathroom breaks, if you will, make the events seem more protracted than they are. Other than that the film’s main liability is its admirable restraint, which is likely to make it a difficult sell to a mainstream audience. “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” employs gargantuan resources to tell a story on strictly adult terms.

I don’t like to write about ambitious movies that utterly fail; I’d rather talk about better ones. But “Revolutionary Road” is such a stand out I feel obliged to send out a smoke signal. It’s a dismal drone inspired by a renowned novel. There, you’ve been warned.

Kate Winslett and Leonardo Di Caprio meet in an intriguing first scene, in a New York night club, on the eve of the 50s. He is’t sure what he wants. She aspires to a career in the theater. After numerous drinks she tells him he’s the most interesting person she’s ever met. But it’s all downhill from there as they scratch and bite each other through a nightmarish marriage, which ends very badly. Is it a hell of their own making, or a logical consequence of the commuter life style of post war suburbia? The movie doesn’t tell us. All we see is their rapid devolution and the willful blindness of those around them.

This is well trod movie territory, from “The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit,” to “No Down Payment” to “Strangers When We Meet.” But those movies were better invested in their characters. They had ups and downs. This is a celluloid autopsy. The three notes in gifted composer Thomas Newman’s theme tell you all you need to know, over and over.

I have to assume that director Sam Mendes and screenwriter Justin Haythe intended to transform writer RichardYates rough poetry into its visual equivalent. But the artistry that drove the book has remained on the printed page. While the photography and performances are strong, the movie is a one note, pretentious dirge. There”s more life in any single episode of “Mad Men.”