Tom Cruise sporting an Irish Accent? Tom Cruise in period clothing? Tom Cruise, son of an Irish potato farmer?

Yes.

And please don't sneer, you Harvard Square Cultural Elitists, you snobs who hissed violently at the TV commercials, who rolled your eyes when your pre-adolescent sister begged you to take her to Cocktail.

For those who don't mind a little escapism, breathtaking scenes of Ireland and the American West, and anything vaguely romantic--no matter how saccharine, the latest Tom Cruise Flick, Far and Away, is worth the two-hour break from reality.

Directed by Ron Howard, a maestro of feel-good movies, Far and Away is basically a fairy tale. Poor boy meets rich girl in turn-of-the-century Ireland. They run away to America and starve and freeze and fall in love in Boston. Rich white male villains temporarily separate the handsome pair.

Both characters, however, make their way to the West and join the race to claim free land in Oklahoma. Will they meet up again, overcome obstacles and live happily ever after?

What do you think?

This film could easily have been released during the 1950s, when sanitary mega-historical Hollywood epics were the norm. In fact, Far and Away features an elaborate recreation of the Oklahoma land rush, when settlers launched a mad, ruthless wagon and horse race across the western prairie to claim free plots of land offered by the U.S. government.

The same scene figured prominently in the '50s technicolor classic, Cimmarron, based on a novel by Edna Ferber. And although Howard's sweeping images of the historic land rush are not significantly different from those in Cimmarron, his decision to shoot his movie in 70mm film is invaluable to conveying the scope of the race.

And, like standard '50s entertainment fare, Far and Away is as wholesome the Donna Reed Show.

No steamy sex scenes in this movie--unusual for a Tom Cruise vehicle. Tom and his co-star, real-life wife Nicole Kidman, do little more than kiss, hug and admire each other's buns throughout the tow-hour epic.

Despite the G-rated romance, the couple's off-screen chemistry permeates their scenes together. Their occasional onscreen arguments, particularly when Nicole's character antagonizes Tom's are especially humorous.

Although the sex is absent, its frequent Hollywood companion, violence, plays a major role in Far and Away.

"I don't want to fight ya," Tom's character, Joseph, meekly tells his burly older brother at the beginning of a fight. Then he proceeds to give the unsuspecting opponent a series of punches in the solar plexus. Many similar fistfights, filmed in rather gory detail, are interspersed throughout the movie.

Many feet of film are dedicated to Joseph's gloveless boxing matches. (Remember, this is the turn of the century.) And even Nicole Kidman's Shannon stabs her love-to-be with a pitchfork early in the movie. Poor Joe gets injured so often that it's a wonder his internal organs remain intact.

But ultimately, is doesn't matter. Gaps in logic are allowed in fairy tales and Tom Cruise movies. Irish accents don't need to be consistent. Injuries aren't permanent. Knockout punches to the eye and kidneys don't bruise, and they certainly don't scar. And people can die twice.

Unlike other summer flicks featuring schizophrenic cats, bats and penguins, our story's main characters are refreshingly one-dimensional. Shannon is headstrong. Joseph is a doer. Shannon's Irish fiance is an evil nincompoop. Shannon's parents are rich and silly. The rich Irish-Americans who help Joseph and Shannon are corrupt and ruthless.

But who needs to be troubled with complicated characters and cerebral dialogue? Certainly, you Harvard Square Cultural Elitists must overdose on the stuff every day.

Try something new--sit back, relax, and let Tom and Nicole lead you on a romantic adventure through the green pastures of Ireland, the grime of Boston and the dust Of Oklahoma.

A happy ending is guaranteed.