Chris Nolan’s highly-anticipated movie “Inception” has been deigned a “heist flick.” It has been called a meditation on the “nature of reality.” There is even a camp of “Inception”-haters who feel called to trumpet that “the emperor has no clothes.” But the theme of “Inception” is love and immortality. I found it terribly rich and satisfying. If I had to categorize it in any particular genre, I would say “psychological thriller.” “Inception” is a platinum- plated, 21st-century “Twilight Zone” episode or Hitchcock gem. The plot is basically this: High-tech thieves can steal information from people’s brains while they’re sleeping. They are now being hired to implant information. Cobb (Leo DiCaprio) is the head of the team. Ellen Page plays a brilliant young student who accompanies him in more ways than one. She’s the only one that knows his deep, dark personal secrets involving his dead wife that threaten to jeopardize not only the mission, but the lives of everyone on the team. Cobb’s wife (Oscar-winner Marion Cotillard) and children (not dead) keep popping up in the virtual dreamworlds where most of “Inception” takes place. “Inception” is not a cold, futuristic view of dystopia. The human element is strong and warm. In one sense, it is about the nature of reality, in that we humans can create realities of our own making and choosing, whether with technology or simply with our own imaginations. But the catch is that humans don’t really create — only God creates, because to create actually means “ex nihilo,” out of nothing. Everything humans create is from something already existing that God created. God’s sacred creation has its own nature, essence, rules. More to the point, there is a divine order to God’s creation. We are good co-creators with God insofar as we follow the divine order (physical, moral, spiritual, human), and we are rebels and sinners insofar as we bend God’s sacred creation away from its own internal logic and ends to something intrinsically disordered or evil. The way that “Inception” takes up the “nature of reality” is in the games we play, the lies we tell ourselves, the towers of denial we construct. For what? To prolong our lives on this earth. To prolong love on this earth. We can all totally relate to Cobb’s quandary, his choice to cling to vapors of love with his dead wife, or real paternal love with his very-much-alive children. This is such a fresh story-line that it amazes if you really let it seep into you.