Man, you guys! Ryan Gosling (or "the Goz," as I like to call him) is fucking attractive! Now, if you've only seen the photos and read the magazines, you've probably noticed his big beaky nose, weird close-together eyes that don't open all the way, and dumb slack-jawed mouth hole, out of which he drools creepy platitudes about Rachel McAdams's supernatural inner beauty. (What's it called when you fall asleep and barf at the same time?)

But to see Ryan Gosling move and talk—especially when wearing a perfectly rumpled, not-quite-tight T-shirt that is vintage without trying too hard and clings and stretches just so—is to take a lesson in 21st-century babeliness. Gosling, according to weepy females across the land, was a babe in The Notebook. He was, according to me, a babe on late-'90s teen television masterpiece Breaker High (do not hate). And in Half Nelson, for all you still-doubting Thomases, Gosling reveals himself to be an unbelievable babe, even when perched on a feces-encrusted toilet smoking crack and crying. I crown him King of Babes. And I guess the movie is pretty good, too.

Gosling is haggard and convincing as a Mr. Dunne, an idealistic, drug-addled 8th-grade history teacher in this innercity morality tale (yup, that one again). After cleverly leaving a crack vial in the girls' locker room and rapidly spiraling into mortifying, sweaty madness, he befriends and is redeemed by an old-soul student named Drey. Gosling is funny and pathetic, and impressively keeps this bundle of clichés above water. Newcomer Shareeka Epps, as Drey, is a revelation, putting most of her fully grown costars to shame.

So kids, don't do drugs or something. Or do. I forget. The important thing here is that the Goz is hottest when moving and talking, and in Half Nelson he does both. Double score!