Quadriplegic Ramon Sampedro wants to kill himself. His government won't let him, and his family isn't too keen on the idea, either. But Sampedro, a Spaniard played by Javier Bardem in best foreign language film Oscar winner "The Sea Inside," carries with him the unbeatable combination of patience and stubbornness. Having spent 26 years trapped in a body without feeling below the neck or the use of his limbs has convinced Sampedro that his is no life at all. He must be constantly supervised and tended to. He refuses a wheelchair, which he says would be like grasping at the splinters of the freedom denied him since he took a neck-breaking dive into an ocean cove. Remaining bedridden, Sampedro has rigged a pulley system to allow him to use his mouth to work the telephone and a drawing pad to sketch out ideas for inventions, but he cannot make his hands move, nor make love to a woman. The basic functions of a private existence - eating, bathing and using the bathroom - are denied him. Only in his dreams can Sampedro rise from his bed and stand upright. In the flowing sea of his subconscious, he even surpasses the capabilities of the walking by taking flight. But he always disappoints himself by waking up. By committing suicide, Sampedro longs to recover the most harrowing loss dealt him: dignity. Director Alejandro Amenábar and his cast pull off a masterful feat with his cinematic version of a true story that took place in the 1990s. They make us fall in love with a man and begin to long for his death, because we begin to see Sampedro's quest for suicide not as an error made in dread or depression, but a liberating fulfillment of human self-determination. We may imagine ourselves in Sampedro's position and insist that we'd choose life, but so overpowering is Bardem's painterly texturing of a man who steadfastly chooses his own end, it's nearly impossible to take in the film and not identify with his cause. Amenábar is the astoundingly talented 32-year-old Chilean-born Spaniard who made the beautiful, thought-provoking "Open Your Eyes" (1997), which was remade as "Vanilla Sky," and "The Others" (2001). "The Sea Inside," which, unlike his past films, relies not on misdirection or a late-film revelatory twist, but a constant parade of gorgeous imagery and perfectly executed flow that leads to emotionally shattering moments, may be the greatest realization of Amenábar's capabilities. The material is tricky, since Amenábar must address the possibility that Sampedro's very public crusade for euthanasia is really a desperate cry for attention. After all, if only Sampedro would agree to take a wheelchair, he could roll himself into the ocean or off the side of a building. The film handles the perception head-on, in a scene in which a quadriplegic priest visits to state his case for life. Since the priest's chair cannot be lifted through the stairwell, the men debate by shouting at one other, just within earshot. Bardem, who was nominated for a best actor Oscar for "Before Night Falls" (2000), is robbed of his physicality, but channels such a raw conviction in his face and eyes that no liability is apparent. In Sampedro's life, there are those who adore him and respect his wishes, and those who love him too much to do so. His doting sister-in-law, Manuela (Mabel Rivera), watches over him as a sentinel, taking care of his needs and silently hoping he will change his mind and taste the riches life has to offer. His brother and father cannot see around their strict Catholicism to identify with Ramon, while two good female friends, a social worker and a lawyer, tirelessly, publicly urge the Spanish government to allow Sampedro the right to die. Rosa (Lola Dueñas), a factory worker, takes interest in Sampedro after a television appearance, and begins visiting, convinced that she can convince him to live. Rosa serves as our surrogate, as our time with Sampedro gradually grinds down away any preconceptions. We meet Sampedro and see not a weak or hopeless soul, but a bold, spirited man who glimmers with reasoned intelligence and has come to his final decision. The journey to death can be tremendously life-affirming.