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Grade: A-

Verdict: Good enough to dance to.

Details: Starring John Cusack, Iben Hjejle and Jack Black. Rated R for language and sexuality. 1 hour, 54 minutes.

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Review: Freshly dumped by his longtime girlfriend, record store owner Rob (John Cusack) rhetorically asks himself, “What came first — music, or the misery?” In other words, does he listen to songs about heartbreak because he's miserable, or is he miserable because he's listening to these songs?

The answer to that chicken-egg question doesn't matter in “High Fidelity.” Director Stephen Frears' witty and wise film transplants Nick Hornby's novel from London to Chicago but maintains high fidelity to the book's up-tempo pleasures and its clear-eyed insight into the insecurities and self-deceptions of the male libido. It's a grown-up comedy for people who may have taken a long time to grow up.

Playing hangdog host to an overview of his romantic life, Rob invites us along as he explores what's gone wrong in all his previous relationships. The soul-searching comes after his attorney girlfriend Laura (Iben Hjejle) walks out on him. As she puts it, “You're the same person you used to be, and I'm not.”

“High Fidelity” charts Rob's gradual transformation into somebody new. That happens as he analyzes what he calls his Top 5 breakups, beginning with the girl in grade school who broke his heart by kissing another boy. Other exes include a nice girl from college (Joelle Carter) who wanted to take things slow; an amiable old pal (Lili Taylor) who shared a rebound relationship with Rob; and a glamorous bohemian knockout (Catherine Zeta-Jones, gamely sending up her own sex-kitten image).

But the film's throughline is Laura, and Rob's refusal to let go. That includes a self-punishing need to know too much about Laura's new sex life, and a call-at-all-hours obsessiveness that borders on stalking. In his immature spasms of angst, Cusack fully captures that sense of someone micro-managing his own pain, finding a reflection of his heartbreak in every song or signpost he encounters.

His base camp is his vintage-record mecca Championship Vinyl, where Rob's every mood swing is monitored by two employees. Barry (Jack Black) is a chunky blusterer of limitless energy and sarcasm, capable of ordering a customer to “go to the mall” to buy a record he disdains. Dick (Todd Louiso) is a pale mouse of a fellow with a comically timid voice; he's like one of the dead people from “Sixth Sense,” accidentally wandering into the wrong movie. (In their diametrically opposed performances, both actors are terrific, but Black is the scene-stealer.)

You know these guys. They use their arcane music knowledge as a badge of intelligence, taste, and above all hipness. They'd sneer you into submission if they knew you could listen to a Backstreet Boys song without writhing in pain. Or that you liked Cher. They're geeks, but the movie finds something heroic in their esoteric pursuits.

That generous view of human nature is the secret weapon of “High Fidelity”: It gives us characters with all their flaws, but let's us love them regardless. That's especially true of Rob, who repeatedly does stupid, embarrassing things but maintains our sympathy. The movie is really about his having to own up to his inner dog, and realize that his attempt to pose as a romantic victim is a crock. If it were a song, “High Fidelity” would probably be one of Elvis Costello's ballads, equally romantic and skeptical.

Cusack — who bought the book rights, co-produced and co-wrote the script — is ideal here. He's reached that no-man's land between boyish twinkle and the first hints of blobby middle-age; his Rob is a Peter Pan who has to grow up, or else. The remainder of the cast is beautifully chosen, including Hjelje, a Danish actress who combines sexiness and maturity. Cusack's sister Joan turns up as an unsympathetic friend; Lisa Bonet oozes attitude as a sultry musician; a real rock 'n' roller appears in a surprise cameo; and Tim Robbins sports a ridiculous ponytail as Laura's new love interest, Ian.

In one of the movie's few missteps, Ian is painted in broad comic strokes. By association, Laura looks a little stupid. The last half hour also sags a little; maybe that's because even as gifted a director as Frears can't completely sustain the energy and surprises of its first half.

Even so, “High Fidelity” is as smart as it is enjoyable. It's a great date-movie about dating. Fans of the book can relax. Chicago isn't London, but the story proves its universality. Like a good song on the airwaves, it crosses all borders. And after seeing it, you'll never think of a compilation tape in quite the same way.

— Steve Murray, Cox News Service