There might not be a better story coming out of Hollywood right now than Matthew McConaughey’s current career renaissance. In the mid-'90s, the charming and handsome Texan was touted as the next Paul Newman after his breakout role in "A Time to Kill." By 2009, though, much of that early hype had been forgotten under waves of generic at best romantic comedies ("Fool’s Gold," "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past").

Then, starting with 2011’s gritty surprise hit "The Lincoln Lawyer," McConaughey’s career evolved from one filled with groans, eye rolls and "guess if he’s shirtless in this one" jokes to one of the most fascinating two-year streaks of any current working actor. He’s tried projects of all kinds ("Bernie," "Killer Joe," "Mud"), working with terrific directors, grabbing the audience’s attention and finding success in each one. Now he currently has projects with Scorsese and Nolan still coming down the line. It’s safe to say we’re a long way from "Failure to Launch."

Though he received a bit of awards buzz for his turn in "Magic Mike" last year, "Dallas Buyers Club" marks another new step in McConaughey’s riveting turn-around: a dip into Oscar bait. Or at least, what would seem like Oscar bait. The film seems to have all of the hallmarks, namely a Big Important Topic (in this case, AIDS) and a role involving a stark physical change. But neither McConaughey nor the movie that houses his captivating performance feel like Oscar bait. It comes alive in ways most movies of its breed are too important to allow.

An unnervingly gaunt McConaughey plays Ron Woodroof, a Texas electrician and part-time bull rider with a taste for booze, drugs, gambling and women (the film opens with a covert rodeo-side threesome). After a 1985 work accident, however, his fast lane lifestyle hits a speed bump: He has tested positive for HIV and only has 30 days to live.

It’s bad enough for Ron knowing he’s going to die, but for the raging bigot and homophobe, having AIDS is worse than a death sentence. Fearful of his disease – and the confused popular assumptions about HIV/AIDS victims – his friends abandon and mock him, and he has his own bouts of self-destruction and self-loathing.

Weeks after his 30 days have dried up, however, Ron is still alive, thanks not to the local hospital’s study-influenced dosing of FDA-approved (but potentially harmful) AZT but to unapproved meds and supplements smuggled in from out of the country. Ron sees potential in selling these alternative treatments to fellow desperate patients, as well as the potential danger in AZT.

With this new-found bonus time on his hands, he starts the Dallas Buyers Club, a membership-based pharmaceutical ring run out of his motel room, with the help of a kind, snappy transgender AIDS patient named Rayon (Jared Leto). Rayon’s flamboyance and Ron’s bigotry make for an uneasy business alliance early on, but over time, Ron’s feelings eventually evolve into something almost resembling respect. Almost.

They bring help to those suffering from the illness, but they also bring the unwanted attention of the FDA and the local hospital. They see the club, peddling untested drugs, as dangerous to its patients and, more importantly to them, dangerous to their monopoly on sick people.

The basic screenplay outline, adapted by Craig Borten and Melisa Wallack, sounds like countless "based on a true story" problem movies that have come before. There’s the classic redemption tale aspect – a character learns the error of his or her ways after their life is shockingly thrown into the issue headfirst – that’s churned out time and again to win hearts and awards.

Combine that with the story’s fight the power FDA battle element, complete with soulless villains in authority tut-tutting at the protagonists, and "Dallas Buyers Club," on the page, sounds very reminiscent of almost every self-important Oscar wannabe that time has forgotten.

On the screen, however, the film plays much brighter than it sounds. Much like what he did with 2009’s "The Young Victoria," director Jean-Marc Vallée brings a freshness to a story that could’ve hewed closely to dull, stoic and played out genre expectations. There’s a pleasantly unforced touch to much of the usual crowd-pleasing and moralizing that, in the end, makes the proceedings more effective. There are few big speeches – or at least, speeches that feel excessively big – and even when the film heads to the courtroom, the rousing is left to a minimum.

Combined with the script, Vallée keeps the film moving, smartly mixing drama and humor, and never bogging down into itself. There’s a small struggle in balance between Rayon and Ron’s story near the start of the final third. I’ll talk more on Leto soon, but the role and his performance in it are so good that we want to detour into his story more. Otherwise, "Dallas Buyers Club" finds nuance and energy in a genre that’s normally defined by having neither.

A large part of that success comes from the performances. Making his first foray into acting in about five years (around the time his own transformative, Oscar bait-esque role in the Mark David Chapman film "Chapter 27" was instantly forgotten), Leto is a welcome presence. The role could’ve gone in all sorts of cartoonish directions, but like the rest of the film, he plays it with a soft, just right touch. He ends up being a radiant but fragile light on screen.

Jennifer Garner gets stuck with a mostly small, uneventful role as their caring doctor, increasingly troubled by her apathetic, business-oriented hospital bosses. She has the requisite warmth for the part, though, and she aces the film’s one big audience-pleasing emotional explosion. So there’s that.

And then there’s McConaughey, his once signature abs and good looks depleted to pasty skin and bones, and hidden by a mustache. His charismatic swagger, however, still remains, making Ron a complex and fascinating individual. His evolution is natural and rewarding, but also not saintly, a result more of business potential and need than true ideological rebirth.

It’s a transformative performance by an actor in the midst one of the most intriguing and thoroughly impressive career transformations we’ve seen in a while.