There’s a peculiar scene at the beginning of “25th Hour:” All that can be heard is the sound of a screeching dog — a noise so vile, it is painful to listen to.

Then, two fellows are heard talking as their vintage ride comes to a halt. Just when you think Vin Diesel is going to step out of the vehicle, Edward Norton appears. He’s pleading to his Russian crony (Tony Siragusa) to help this poor dying creature. The scene is curiously funny — Monty (Norton), an obviously rough individual, is finding a reason to care for this beaten pooch, and his heartless counterpart is questioning why they stopped in the first place.

This scene is peculiar because one wouldn’t expect it in a Spike Lee film. His films steam with raw, sometimes violent, energy. His films use violence as a lesson to the masses. Often the message is crime doesn’t pay, so why do it? “25th Hour” acts more like a cautionary tale: Crime does pay, so do it, but you might get caught. The game is played by Monty, a small-time hood with enough sense in his head to see he needs to slow down. As the plot would have it, this isn’t the case.

The story intercuts Monty’s past and present. Lee treats his audience with respect, not letting the story unfold traditionally, thus inviting the viewer to make their own assumptions. The story is mostly told in any given scene through dialogue between two characters. This development introduces each character and learning about them through the conversations that they have with the opposite person.

On the eve of his seven-year jail stint, Monty contacts his two childhood chums, Frank and Jakob, to meet for one last hurrah. Frank, a Gordon Gekko Wall Street wannabe, is conflicted: He loves Monty and wants to remain a faithful friend, though he knows in his head that Monty deserves what’s coming to him. Jakob, on the other hand, has his mind elsewhere: He’s a lonely prep school teacher who has a crush on one of his students, Mary (Anna Paquin).

Lee has created a passionate, visual film. The characters are different, yet all connected because of the ethical decisions they come to confront.

The film’s plot does seem sluggish due to the all-too-many tangents it wants to explore. The story and characters are rarely in the same place. Post-Sept. 11 New York is vividly explored, though one wonders how it incorporates into the story.

Lee implements Sept. 11 in a way that has nothing to do with the plot. What the film seems to say is all Americans can identify with Norton’s character because of his feelings about his hometown.

What is being told is the story of a drug dealer who, despite his efforts to go straight, is still held down by the past that haunts him. Lee compares Monty with the falling of the twin towers: What once stood tall has now crumbled.

It’s welcoming that at least one of the main characters shows no remorse for Monty’s criminal past. Stories about criminals seem to overwhelm the American movie scene nowadays, often glorifying these characters.

Here we have the criminal with the heart of gold in a story where all the cops are pigs, and Monty is the only true-blue saint of them all.