Some historical epics can't avoid choking on the dust of their battle scenes, creatively strangled by humongous ambitions. Many are long on ponderous facts, short on heat and vitality. Others, such as "Gladiator," wallow in effects and bloodlust as much as pursuit of meaning and context.

Many failed and half-baked epics don't have the force that is Oliver Stone, though, to push cinematic agendas. "Alexander" joys in defying the methods of the standard epic. It's also fitting material for Stone to cover, because its focus subject is bigger than big, as was the Vietnam War, the Kennedy assassination and the political life of Richard Nixon.

Never one to shy from his own interpretations, Stone infuses "Alexander" with more movie magic than social commentary, though Stone has stated intended parallels to modern times, in the way "Alexander" warns of global ambitions that exceed mandate.

More so, "Alexander" is a portrait of how power affects the person, and an illustration of genius and leadership that is virtually unprecedented, telling of a man who ruled most of the known world at age 25.

Irish actor Colin Farrell plays the title role, a man born to be king of Macedonia before his death in 323 B.C. Tutored by Aristotle himself, and with the flames of greatness fanned by a supremely ambitious and plotting mother, played in the film by Angelina Jolie, Alexander grows from a young man of potential to a realizer of destiny.

The son of a drunken, gregarious father-king, played by a one-eyed Val Kilmer, Alexander takes the reins early, and quickly challenges the dominant Persians to the east, concocting a brilliant battle scheme that brings his Greek and Macedonian armies an unlikely victory in one of the biggest military upsets in history.

From there, Alexander conquers the east, bringing Greek perspectives to a mystic culture, determined to import ideas of justice, fair play and intellectual pursuit to this region, as much as overwhelming force.

Alexander's hunger grows, though, and he presses on, landing in an untamed India, where he must convince his homesick, confused men to press on, even when facing such unbelievable foes as a herd of storming, armored elephants. At last, Alexander has stretched his ambitions and his followers too thin, and his greatness is tarnished as he retreats. Alexander is smart enough, though, to rally his charges and convince them going home is his own desire as well, showing his skills as a maneuvering politician.

Along the way, he makes friends and enemies and takes a wife. His greatest love remains his best friend and battlefield captain Hephaistion, played by Jared Leto. "Alexander" stresses its protagonist's bisexuality, and the film spends time illustrating Alexander's lust for sex, companionship, friendship, land, power, intellectual and spiritual growth. Alexander's varied needs are what drives him.

"Alexander" is a visually stunning, gritty, bloody, wandering free-flow of a spectacular, and those who are predisposed to dislike Stone's movies, just because, are likely to be turned off by the director's aggressive, purposeful approach. The sensual scenes are loaded with the same lavish, naughty exotica Stone used in the sex-party swagger sequences in "JFK," and much of the gruesome battles are limb-slicing brutal, determined to show the ugliness of such horrors and then some.

Stone uses effective design and meticulous execution to show the mastery of Alexander's military mind, though. Fine-tuned details -- in geography, set and costumes -- are everywhere.

Acting doesn't usually matter in these things, so it doesn't mean that much if it's Farrell or Peter O'Toole leading the charge. The purpose of these epics lies elsewhere. That's why we can tolerate such devices as an ancient, tottering Anthony Hopkins playing a former buddy of Alexander's who narrates the tale some 40 years later.

"Alexander" is a showy movie with the Stone imprint throughout. Take it or leave it, but it prompts attention, if only because it is big, loud, sometimes messy but demanding to be seen and heard, as that's what epics do, for better or worse.