SEABISCUIT []

An undisputed winner. Running time: 140 minutes. Rated PG-13 (sexuality, sports violence). At the Empire, the Lincoln Square, the Beekman, others.

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THIS year’s Oscar derby leaves the starting gate with “Seabiscuit,” a thrilling, beautifully crafted, fact-based horse story that’s not merely the summer’s finest movie, but may well be the one to catch come Academy Awards time.

Seabiscuit, the undersized, battered bay horse whose exploits thrilled and gave hope to Depression-wracked America in the ’30s, doesn’t appear until nearly an hour into Gary Ross’ film, an across-the-board triumph of good old-fashioned storytelling.

Instead, following the spirit and mostly the letter of Laura Hillenbrand’s nonfiction best-seller, “Seabiscuit: An American Legend,” Ross carefully introduces us to three damaged men who collaborated on one of racing’s most inspired success stories.

Sporting dyed red hair, Tobey Maguire gives the performance of his career as jockey “Red” Pollard, a Shakespeare-quoting, half-blind sometimes prizefighter who – at least in Ross’ version – was separated from his once-wealthy family by the Depression.

Equally fine is Oscar-winner Chris Cooper (“Adaptation”) as Seabiscuit’s trainer, Tom Smith, a laconic old cowboy with a preternatural understanding of horses who finds a kindred spirit in the down-and-out Pollard, whose specialty was riding difficult mounts.

The two men were brought together by San Francisco auto magnate Charles Howard – a wonderful Jeff Bridges, back in glad-handing “Tucker” mode – who threw himself into horse racing partly to forget the accidental death of his young son.

They all find redemption in Seabiscuit, whose previous owner had given up on the skittish colt.

Smith, a man of few words, observes: “You don’t throw a whole life away just because he’s banged up a little” – a canny metaphor for Depression-era America, where Seabiscuit’s come-from-behind triumphs (and losses) were listened to every week on the radio by millions who had never been to a racetrack.

The movie’s stirring climax – with the most pulse-pounding race footage ever shot for a feature film – is the long-sought 1938 famous match that pitted underdog Seabiscuit against War Admiral, a huge black Triple Crown winner owned by a scion of the Eastern racing establishment.

Even more inspiring is the film’s lump-in-the-throat third act, in which Seabiscuit and Pollard both struggle back from catastrophic injuries experts predicted would end their careers.

What puts “Seabiscuit” head and shoulders above other racing movies is that it gives a very real sense of the risk involved in men who rarely weighed more than 115 pounds charging at more than 40 mph on thousand-pound animals.

This is a movie that gets it all right, including superb contributions from cinematographer John Schwartzman, production designer Jeannine Claudia Oppewall, composer Randy Newman and narrator David McCullough.

William H. Macy – who worked with Maguire on Ross’ only other film as director, “Pleasantville” – adds humor as the film’s Greek Chorus, a fictitious track announcer.

Elizabeth Banks is solid as Howard’s glamorous but supportive second wife, but the real find here is real-life jockey Gary Stevens, who steals scenes as George Woolf, the rider who takes over the reins from his injured pal Pollard.

The eight Thoroughbreds who play the title character probably rate an Oscar of their own for headlining “Seabiscuit,” virtually the only mainstream product Hollywood can hold its head up high for all season.