'ALMOST' HITS THE MARK CROWE'S SHARP SCRIPT A CUT ABOVE MOST OF THE COMPETITION.

Byline: Bob Strauss Film Critic

Ah, those heady days when rock 'n' roll mattered - or was all that mattered. The euphoria. The drugs. The groupies! Most of all, the exhilarating feeling that spontaneous thrills could combust at any second, any hour of the night or day.

``Almost Famous,'' Cameron Crowe's fictionalized memoir of becoming a Rolling Stone music reporter at the tender age of 15, captures all of those qualities with wit and verve and a lot of affection. All except, perhaps, that sense of edgy spontaneity; the film is both too overdetermined and willfully naive to cut through to the dangerous, sloppy and often nasty heart of early '70s rock.

But as a cleverly scripted entertainment, it's right up there with Crowe's last writing-directing effort, ``Jerry Maguire.'' Observant and insightful - at least so far as it's willing to go - the piece is another likable tale of an easily corruptible guy's wayward journey to the parameters of his personal standards.

That Crowe stand-in William Miller (versatile newcomer Patrick Fugit), this film's ethical Ulysses, is just an overbright kid who makes the odyssey immensely charming. Then again, the lessons William learns are the growing up, not growing deep, kind: People use people, love and friendship are maddeningly tricky matters, talent is one thing and professionalism quite another, etc. It's all smart stuff, as teen movies go, but it's basic coming-of-age business nevertheless.

``Rock stars have kidnapped my son!'' Professor Elaine Miller (Frances McDormand, humanizing the overprotective mom archetype like few before her have managed) wails to a class of unsympathetic collegians. She's only slightly overdramatizing; young William has not been snatched, but he has been hopelessly seduced into riding along on an extended, cross-country tour with the just-peaking-at-midrange band Stillwater. It's 1973, and the San Diego adolescent is on his first assignment for the Rolling Stone, the legendary pop-culture magazine.

But while achieving his goal is proving problematic - the musicians aren't just joking when they refer to the journalist as the Enemy, and every scheduled sit-down interview with the group's charismatic lead guitarist Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup) is either interrupted or blown off for reasons of instant gratification - William is having the time of his life.

This despite the handicap of being the most emotionally mature individual on the bus. And due, in large part, to a cadre of young female fans who call themselves the Band Aids (``We're not groupies!'') and who are accompanying the tour. William falls head-over-heels for late-blooming flower child Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), and although she's a truly affectionate friend, she only has eyes for Russell.

Which is understandable, since the guy really knows how to attract. Russell decides, somewhere in Kansas, to win William over, mostly in hopes of receiving positive coverage for the band. Whether he'll succeed in eradicating the youth's already shaky objectivity provides most of the film's dramatic tension. The other notable tensions are intra-band; at regular intervals, lead singer Jeff Bebe (Jason Lee) shows his resentment of Russell's talent and popularity as he explodes hilariously in tantrums that are amusingly pitched between incoherent rage and embarrassment that he even possesses such an ego.

It's all supposed to be about the music, after all, not such crass establishment concerns as fame and money. The joke, of course, is that Stillwater really isn't very good. And by 1973, rock had passed whatever art-dominated stage it might ever have gone through and was already firmly in the grasp of marketing machinery (a stereotypical new manager, brought in midtour, represents the reality with crude obviousness).

The movie could have done much more with this theme, but the only other real references to it come from a real-life figure, the late rock critic Lester Bangs (a brilliant-as-always Philip Seymour Hoffman), William's ever-subversive rock writer mentor. It also might have been a little more tough-minded about the darker aspects of band life. Sure, hearts are callously broken, colleagues betrayed and stomachs pumped in the movie, but it still leaves you with the impression that Crowe never met a musician who wasn't, deep down, a good guy.

Of course, ``Almost Famous'' is also a story told from a worshipful young fan's point of view and done so consistently well. If its vision is as magenta-tinged as the sunglasses on the movie's poster, it's the rare kind of piece that works sharp dialogue, incisive humor and smart, unique performances (add Fairuza Balk's quick turn as the most unconsciously perceptive Band Aid to the litany of shrewd characterizations) into a framework of slick, studied guilelessness.

``ALMOST FAMOUS''

(R; drug use, language, nudity, sex).

The stars: Patrick Fugit, Billy Crudup, Frances McDormand, Kate Hudson, Jason Lee, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Fairuza Balk. Behind the scenes: Written and directed by Cameron Crowe. Produced by Crowe and Ian Bryce. Released by DreamWorks Pictures. Running time: Two hours. Playing: AMC Century 14, Century City. Citywide Friday. Our rating: Three stars

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2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Patrick Fugit makes his film debut as the young Rolling Stone reporter in Cameron Crowe's ``Almost Famous.''

(2 -- color) The cub rock 'n' roll reporter follows moderately talented band Stillwater in this fictionalized memoir of Crowe's teen years.