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To be sure, there are confusing films that make no sense simply because of gaping plot holes, half-baked characters and poor direction; those films are not worth your $9.

But there are also films that plumb the depths of the human experience, dig deep to bring up diamonds of truth and require multiple viewings to even begin to discern the mysteries hiding in plain sight. Those films are not only worth your time and money, they’re worth the hours of silent contemplation or animated discussion that will likely follow.

“Synecdoche, New York,” the directorial debut of screenwriter Charlie Kauffman (“Being John Malkovich,” “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”), is one of those films - a movie so fascinating and chock full of ideas and metaphors, that even as I scratched my head at what was occurring, I knew I was viewing a masterpiece.

I will try to describe the film’s plot, but I will also issue a caveat: There is no way to adequately describe what happens here; like all the great movies, you will need to see it for yourself to even begin to follow it logically. But I will give it the old college try.

Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Caden Cotard, a director at a regional theater in Schenectady, N.Y. Caden has a wife (Catherine Keener) who is ready to walk out on him and he is beginning to experience bizarre medical conditions that signal the inevitable decay of the body. Shortly after his wife leaves for Berlin, Caden is informed that he has received a prestigious arts grant to make a play that enriches the world.

Caden, fearful that he is going to die alone and has not done anything worthwhile, attempts to make sense of his life by purchasing a warehouse and creating a mock cityscape inside, which he will populate with actors who portray the people he knows. His hope is that he will be able to see what meaning his life has had, what all the trials and failures added up to. But as the play gathers more characters, years and decades pass, and as Caden begins to age and fall apart, the more he fears there may not be an answer awaiting him.

Yet I’ve only described what happens in the film; I have not described the way Kauffman begins to skew the passage of time, letting one shot stand in for the passage of several years. I have not talked about the women in Caden’s life, from the woman who works the ticket office (Samantha Morton) and harbors a crush on him, to the smoldering young actress (Michelle Williams) who adores him. Are any of these women the one for Caden? In a way, they all are; each one helps him identify with a certain aspect of his personality and one is reminded of Fellini’s masterpiece “8 1/2,” in which a director attempted to make a movie summing up his life experiences and centered it on all the women he loved over the years. Like “Synecdoche,” the film has a surreal and dreamlike quality to it, although Fellini’s film is ultimately a celebration of life, while Kauffman is more interested in our inevitable march toward death and our narcissistic belief that a world of billions revolves around us.

And yet I still haven’t explained the inevitable aging and decay of Caden, the way the screenplay begins to wind in and out of reality as he hires doubles to play himself and the people around him. I haven’t described the heartbreak Caden experiences as he reads his daughter’s diary, imagining her life without him because she’s not there to fill in the pages. Nor have I mentioned the heartbreaking final act, as Caden experiences the most horrifying thing of all - growing old and fearful of dying alone.

And even with all that said, there is so much missing and so much I feel is left to discover. Mainstream filmgoers, who prefer their films with a cohesive narrative and an upbeat tone, will reject the movie, and I can understand why. But film lovers will likely embrace it.

Kauffman is a writer who has always been interested in the subject of the human mind, whose offbeat and high-concept stories have always dealt with matters of identity, meaning, the use of art to understand life and how our own flaws can cause so much heartache (“Everyone eventually disappoints you, if you know them long enough,” Keener says at one point in the film). Here, freed from having other directors interpreting his work, Kauffman runs wild. His film doesn’t so much flow; it slides, taking viewers on a journey that doesn’t always make sense, seems to move too fast and is filled with characters who don’t act like we want them to - much like real life. Kauffman doesn’t spoon-feed his audience, but neither does he make the movie impenetrable; there are hints as to how to view the film throughout the movie and careful viewers will know that while the narrative is confusing, the film has an emotional coherence that makes it easy to get lost in.

It helps that he’s assisted by a wonderful cast. Hoffman is one of the great actors of our time, and he does wonders with a role that requires him to be sympathetic, unlikable, engaging and falling apart, often all at the same time. Caden opens the film by staging “Death of a Salesman,” with young actors as the older characters - keep that in mind throughout the film, especially as you watch Hoffman age into a septuagenarian, and you will have a crucial key to understanding the movie.

Surrounding Hoffman is an ensemble of wonderful actresses, including the always wonderful Keener as a conflicted housewife, Morton as the life-loving box office attendant and Emily Watson as Morton’s double. The reliable Hope Davis is great as a self-involved psychiatrist and Jennifer Jason Leigh is solid in a small, but crucial role.

“Synecdoche, New York” is a not a beautiful film to see on screen; it’s about the natural aging and decay of things and, in a way, deals with one of the most horrifying subjects ever - our own march toward death. And yet, it is rare to see a film so full of ideas, riddles and, yes, even life. Grade: A+

Chris Williams is a Source Staff Writer and member of the Detroit Film Critics Society. He can be reached at Chris.Williams@advisorsource.com