Good movies entertain and inform. They also may resonate with spiritual themes—themes that speak to the heart, and remind us of the indomitable spirit of humankind and of our Godlike nature. Shrek, the wonderful animated summer hit by DreamWorks, is such a movie. Its underlying spiritual messages about beauty, happiness, home, and love make it worth seeing for reasons that go beyond the fact that it's a fun-filled, popcorn-eating romp.

Based on a book by William Steig, Shrek is a laugh-a-minute action/adventure romance, and a great family movie. It is structured like a classic fairy tale, full of clever inversions, twists, and turns. The semisweet ogre-hero, Shrek (voice by Mike Myers), who has a beastly exterior and a poor self-image to go with it, wants one thing in life: to be left alone. But his privacy is disrupted when a decree by vainglorious and power-hungry Prince Farquaad (voice by John Lithgow) banishes "defective" fairy tale characters to areas outside the walled city of Duloc. They end up in Shrek's swamp, camped on his doorstep.

Shrek sets out on a quest to right this wrong—with his annoying new "friend," named Donkey (voice by Eddie Murphy) tagging along—and strikes a deal with Prince Farquaad. If Shrek rescues Princess Fiona (voice by Cameron Diaz) from a castle guarded by a fire-breathing dragon and brings her to the prince, he will get his home back. But Shrek and the princess, who it turns out is more than capable of fending for herself and has no small identity crisis of her own, fall in love. All is not smooth sailing, of course, as this clever "boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl" story heads toward its happy ending. And, in order to reinforce the underlying message that true beauty comes from within (it's a quality of the spirit not the flesh), the ending is not without satisfying surprises.

Much of the movie's charm and frivolity is due to the wonderfully written interaction between Shrek and Donkey (the screenplay is by the veteran team of Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio), brought to vivid vocal life by Myers (who gives Shrek a warm Scottish accent) and by Murphy (who makes the little animal irresistibly appealing). They make a terrific odd couple. Like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, they wind their way through a windmill-dotted magical kingdom with pitch-perfect comedy and pathos.

Shrek reminds us that you really can't judge a book by its cover—that you and I are far more than what we see on the surface. It's kind of like an onion, Shrek explains. Identity is multi-layered. Don't go by the outside layer. You've got to look deep. The movie takes us on a symbolic journey that reveals innate sterling qualities that are hidden to Shrek himself. Donkey, who teaches him the value of friendship, is the first to see through to the real Shrek inside—sensitive and humane, brave and self-sacrificing, a knight in shining armor, in disguise, with the heart of a hero.

Shrek starts to see himself in this new light, too. Which prepares him for love—both to love and to be loved in return. As his self-image improves and his heart expands, Shrek's concepts of happiness and home transform, too. You might say that he discovers that home is not a self-centered physical place. It's an outward force. A large, warm, inclusive concept, big enough to embrace others, friends and family, while providing freedom, security, and solitude for one's self. It's a lot as if Shrek discovers, "Home is the dearest spot on earth, and it should be the centre, though not the boundary, of the affections," as the founderof the Sentinel, Mary Baker Eddy, wrote in Science and Health (p. 58).

You might say that Shrek's love takes him to a higher level, where he sees that he is not a beast at all. He is beautiful. Loved, loving, lovable, and, yes, lovely. The princess sees a similar truth about herself. "Love, redolent with unselfishness, bathes all in beauty and light," said Mrs. Eddy (Science and Health, p. 516). Shrek and the princess learn, and the movie reminds us in turn, just how true this is.