There is a certain dishonesty about a film biography that leaves out one of the pieces of the puzzle of a man's life. In the case of "I Can Only Imagine," we have a conventional portrait of a wife batterer and a child abuser in the figure of washed up football star Arthur Millard, resulting in years of anguish for his gifted son to try to come to terms with his dad.

But the film does not tell us that Mr. Milliard was seriously injured when he was struck by a diesel truck while working for the Texas highway system. After awakening from an eight-week coma, the man was never the same, due to brain damage. The details about trauma to the temporal lobe and mood changes are touched upon in the bonus track of DVD of "I Can Only Imagine." But that part of the story is left out of the film itself.

The background above is not intended to give the abusive father a free pass. But it does suggest that the film is a whitewash because it chooses not to offer the total picture of the Millard family. There is no doubt that young Bart Millard was a horribly abused child, but one with tremendous resourcefulness and survival skills.

One of those skills was the childlike ability to imagine. The act of fantasizing removed the child from his terrifying environment. But it also sparked his creative energies, leading to accomplished work in sketching and, above all, in the expression of music. The music Bart loved was inspirational. It was also escapist, saving the child's sanity. It also culminated in the blockbuster song that is the title of this film.

The film is also successful in dramatizing the power of forgiveness, as Bart's forgiveness of his dad relieved the debilitating incompleteness of his life. The story was well told and superbly performed by a gifted singer-actor. Another strong character development was the gravel-voiced manager who believed in Bart both as a singer and as a human being.

But the one nagging criticism of this film remains: Why didn't the filmmakers reveal the truth about the father's accident? If Mr. Millard indeed had permanent brain damage, leading to violent behavior, then his transformation through Christianity into the man who could win back the love of his son was even more remarkable.

Were the filmmakers wary that the focus of the film could shift too far afield from the son's hit record to the father's miraculous transformation? As the real Bart Millard observes in a brief sound byte, in the bonus track: "If the Gospel can change that dude, it change anybody."

Bart Millard (J. Michael Finley) grew up in rural Texas with his abusive father (Dennis Quaid). He has known his girlfriend Shannon (Madeline Carroll) since they were kids when she predicted that he will fall in love with her. His mother left when he was young leaving him alone to survive his bitter father. He plays football to appease him. When he breaks his legs during practice, he finds the only club available is Glee Club. Reluctantly, he accepts the lead in the school musical. His angry dad disapproves and then is diagnosed with cancer. Bart breaks up with Shannon before graduating and heading in different directions. He joins a band and harasses Brickell (Trace Adkins) to be his mentor.

This is a sincere Christian music biopic. It is the sincerest of sincerity. I wish for catchier tunes as a musical. I'm sure that this song has its fans. The message is sincere but I can't hum to it. Nevertheless, I like the simple story, the sincere acting, and the general message. There are many scenes where the drama needs to be elevated. At its heart, this is a father son story and it needs more Quaid. He's definitely capable of doing more. Quite frankly, he needs to hit the kid. It's a story of forgiveness and salvation. It doesn't serve the story to lighten the sin. Lightening the sin lightens the forgiveness. In addition, Shannon should have more to say at the dorm confrontation and she needs to give her forgiveness face to face. As for Amy Grant, there is one of moment of great potential missed. The easiest move is for them to do a duet with the song. Overall, I love the sincerity and it's generally well acted.

. . . before the film BLACK PANTHER hit the Big Screen. Similarly, a complex mythology of unfamiliar characters is introduced to Main-Stream America by this flick, I CAN ONLY IMAGINE. As is the case with BLACK PANTHER, viewers will gain little by asking themselves such questions as, "Who ARE these people, and why haven't I heard of any of them before?" while I CAN ONLY IMAGINE unspools. What is clear from the outset is that I CAN ONLY IMAGINE might as well be a Hindi flick made in Bollywood for all the attention it pays to the U.S. Film Diversity Laws so highly ballyhooed to the General Public recently during this past Winter's "Awards Season." If you think that YOU might be one of the "unwashed" or the "uninitiated" masses offered lukewarm grudging temporary acceptance by this clique behind I CAN ONLY IMAGINE, rest assured that I did not see anyone seriously bruised by "Open Carry" firearms at my showing of this feature, nor was a collection plate passed (as during the MISS SAIGON intermission),nor was there a "Just as I Am" parade to the front during a concluding "altar call." However, I must confess that my schedule allowed me to see I CAN ONLY IMAGINE in a so-called "Purple State," so my experience might not be a case of "one size fits all." I suppose it would be nice if all those public schools which conducted fund raisers so that their student bodies could take a field trip to movie theaters to see the BLACK PANTHER Wikandian History documentary would also see fit to be "fair and balanced," and make a similar trek to take in the flip side to BLACK PANTHER with a pilgrimage to I CAN ONLY IMAGINE. However, I'm not holding my breath until this occurs.