PENN-ULTIMATE VS. PENULTIMATE : LACKING BROTHER SEAN'S EXPERIENCE, CHRIS MAKES UP FOR IT WITH SHEER PRESENCE.

Byline: Devon Jackson The New York Times

Never mind the torrential downpour or the twilight darkness on this Saturday afternoon in New York. Disregard, too, the fact that he's nearly drenched in his hooded navy sweatshirt, blue Levis and black cowboy boots, and that he charges in and out of stores and restaurants with a bulk and a low center of gravity befitting his roots as a former high school wrestler.

On screen or off, wet or dry, Chris Penn already seems hazily recognizable.

For one thing, he is the younger brother, by five years, of Sean Penn, though both are quick to dispel any notions of sibling rivalry.

``If you don't have it,'' says Sean, ``you don't even know how somebody could. We're fine.'' And Chris adds: ``Even if, God forbid, I wasn't his brother, I'd much rather be his brother than not. I love my brother.''

Chris Penn, at age 31 the veteran of some two dozen movies, has arrived in town from South Carolina, where he is shooting ``Liar'' with Tim Roth. Penn is spending a day working out at a gym, shopping and bar hopping in lower Manhattan before attending to matters such as a forthcoming premiere for his latest movie, ``The Funeral.''

``Hey, aren't you - Sean Penn's little brother?'' asks one of three men at Cha Cha's cafe in Little Italy who offer to buy him a drink.

``Yes,'' he says politely, accepting the offer.

Soon he's at Il Cortile, another spot in Little Italy.

``I loved your performance in `Reservoir Dogs' and in `At Close Range,' '' says one of two 40-ish fans.

``Thank you,'' says Penn, graciously accepting their offer to send a bottle of Barolo red to his table. (He drank some and pocketed the bottle for later.)

Then he heads for Raspberry Sport, a clothing store.

``You were in that movie with James Earl Jones, right?'' asks the young clerk.

``Yeah,'' Penn confesses matter-of-factly, as he poses for a point-and-shoot snapshot of him with the store's manager. `` `Best of the Best.' ''

Wasn't he also that guy in ``The Crossing Guard,'' a movie directed by his brother Sean? Well, no, that was David Morse. But Chris Penn - fresh from a triumph at the Venice Film Festival and with a batch of recent films under his belt - won't be mistaken for someone else for long.

``The Funeral,'' a 1930s gangster drama set in New York, is by the bad-boy director Abel Ferrara, whose films include ``King of New York'' and ``Bad Lieutenant.''

The movie, which opened on Friday, focuses on three midlevel racketeers called the Tempio brothers (played by Penn, Christopher Walken and Vincent Gallo), who are at odds with their wives and with one another. Also starring Isabella Rossellini, Annabella Sciorra and Benicio Del Toro, the film centers on Penn as the volatile, tortured middle brother, Chez.

In September, the jury at the Venice Film Festival awarded him the prize for best supporting actor. ``It was a very rich performance, very powerful but also very vulnerable,'' says Paul Auster, who was one of the judges. ``He showed a range that I always knew he was capable of but that few directors have allowed him to show.''

Penn adds, in his persistently hoarse voice: ``Winning at Venice was a big surprise. I'm not a stroke-me, stroke-me guy, but it was nice.''

As it turned out, Penn was not the director's first choice for ``The Funeral.'' Ferrara initially wanted Vincent D'Onofrio for the part. But when D'Onofrio backed out, Nicolas Cage, who was originally in the cast, recommended his longtime pal Penn.

``He isn't Italian,'' says Ferrara of Penn, who is, in fact, third-generation Irish-American, ``but there's an Italian in him, an ethnicity, a code. He has that soulfulness Chez really needed.''

Rossellini, who plays Penn's wife in the film, adds: ``When I first met him, I felt that there was something irrational about him. But there was a vulnerableness to him too. He brought to the character this unneasiness, yet even if you're afraid of him - he's physically so big and kind of frightening - your heart still goes out to him.''

Penn already has completed three other films set to come out next year: ``Under the Hula Moon,'' ``Sacred Cargo'' and ``The Boy's Club.'' A fourth film is in preproduction, and there are three more Penn wants to produce and star in. But he has a particular fondness for ``The Funeral.''

``I wanted to do anything I could to get this movie made,'' he says. ``An actor can be really, really great, but unless he gets the parts, you'll never know. A `Funeral' only gets handed in your lap once in a blue moon.''

``I've always been seen as Sean's younger brother, and I probably still am, but that's OK. This movie has brought to the surface what I already know: I'm a legitimate actor on my own. It let people know that even if I wasn't his brother, I'd still be a damn good actor.''

His brother Sean says: ``He's finding his voice. He used to be the acting Neal Cassady; now he's turning into Kerouac.''

Sean once had wanted to put his younger brother in one of his films, but Chris had not been ready for it. ``My dream is to write a part he wants to do, and to direct him in something,'' Sean Penn says.

Chris Penn was born in Burbank (he still lives in Los Angeles), the third son of the director Leo Penn and the actress Eileen Ryan; the oldest Penn son, Michael, is a singer-songwriter. Chris Penn attended Santa Monica High School for only two years and made his movie debut in 1983 in Francis Ford Coppola's ``Rumble Fish.''

Since then, the 6-foot-tall, 250-pound former professional boxer and avid singer (he sings in clubs, when they let him) has been seen in everything from art films such as ``The Music of Chance'' to box-office fluff such as ``Footloose.'' Off screen, however, he developed a nasty cocaine and alcohol abuse problem.

Between 1986 and 1990, he made only two movies, and his indifferent approach to work, family and friends nearly ruined him. Itn was his older brother, no stranger to Breathalyzers and controversy, who helped him find his way back.

``Sean was very supportive,'' Penn says. ``He helped me get my life back on track.''

Chris Penn's performance as the explosively violent Nice Guy Eddie in Quentin Tarantino's 1992 film, ``Reservoir Dogs,'' was the event that turned him around professionally. Directly after that film came another memorable role, that of the near-psychotic swimming-pool cleaner in Robert Altman's ``Short Cuts'' in 1993.

``He brings a very honest simplicity of character into these roles,'' says Altman. ``His complications are not complicated.'' Referring to his growth as an actor, the director adds, ``He's suddenly developed his own personality instead of being in the shadow of his brother.''

By day's end, Penn, a bit of an impulse shopper, has bought two jackets, a raincoat, a Polartec vest, several pairs of socks, a pair of size-11 Nikes, two stretch caps, a hooded sweatsuit, two mesh jerseys and mesh shorts. He also put two blazers on hold. (In the end he didn't need them for the premiere, since a day later he was called back to the set in South Carolina.)

Then he picks up a duffel bag to stuff everything into. Switching shirts, he throws on his new vest and new raincoat and heads downstairs to the SoHo Grand's bar.

By coincidence, Lawrence Bender, who produced ``Reservoir Dogs'' and ``Pulp Fiction,'' walks in 10 minutes after Penn orders. They catch up and tease each other, and Penn asks Bender about helping him produce one of his films. Then they shake hands goodbye.

``When they hired me,'' explains Penn, sipping his Macallan single malt whisky, ``they thought they were getting an actor. What they got was Nice Guy Eddie,'' in other words, someone innately explosive. ``Back then, Nice Guy Eddie was a whole lot nicer than I was. And except for Harvey Keitel, all of the people from that film, whenever we run into each other, they always look at me out of the corner of their eye.''

Snean and Chris Penn say they plan to work together someday, but only if the project looks as good as ``At Close Range,'' the 1986 movie in which they both appeared, and only if they play brothers.

``If we're not,'' says Chris Penn, ``it's just an added distraction.''

Apropos of nothing, the bartender, who has been studying Penn, says: ``I have two friends in San Francisco who are brothers, and you look so much like them. You could be their missing brother.''

``I am a brother,'' Penn says, breaking into a genuine smile. ``I already am a missing brother.''

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Photo: Chris Penn: ``An actor can be really, really great, but unless he gets the parts, you'll never know. A `Funeral' only gets handed in your lap once in a blue moon.''