At the end of "Still Crazy," Strange Fruit is about to crash and burn. The Fruit -- the fictitious '70s supergroup whose comeback attempt is the film's focus -- are on stage at a big festival, hoping to prove they still have it, when the lead singer (Bill Nighy) freaks out midway through the first number, and the performance shudders to a halt.

For a moment, we're sure the band is finished. Then the keyboardist (Stephen Rea) plays a few chords, and the bassist (Jimmy Nail) steps to the microphone to sing "The Flame Still Burns."

Slow, sad and stirring, "The Flame Still Burns" is a big-rock ballad in the tradition of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird," and its emotional power is enough to pull the band together. Before long, not only does the singer recover his wits, but the Fruits' long-lost lead guitarist has made his triumphant return to the stage. The camera pans back to reveal the audience, lighters aloft, swaying in time to the song.

And then the drummer blows up.

OK, I made that last bit up. In truth, "Still Crazy" has the expected happy ending, with the band back together, the fans cheering, and wise-cracking roadie Billy Connolly musing that "maybe God is a Strange Fruit fan, after all." It's a good movie ending, but not terribly rock and roll.

For a real rock and roll ending, you need "This Is Spinal Tap," Rob Reiner's 1984 mockumentary about the most clueless band in Britain. This film also ends with the band on the verge of disintegration, then making a last-minute comeback as guitarist Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) reconciles onstage with singer David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean). Suddenly, the Tap are back, and they head off for a triumphant tour of Japan, during which their drummer -- yes! -- spontaneously combusts.

While both movies recognize the need for a dramatic, snatched-from-the-jaws-of-defeat finale, "Spinal Tap" recognizes that real-life rock and roll never has such happy endings. So Reiner and company turn the Hollywood ending into a joke, deflating the cliche even as they embrace it.

"Spinal Tap" aside, Hollywood rarely does rock right. It isn't just that the sort of stars cast as rock musicians often strain an audience's credulity (remember Julia Roberts and Justine Bateman as girl-band rockers in "Satisfaction"?); fact is, the rock attitude is too cynical and sarcastic to swallow the kind of uplift and sentimentality that make many movies entertaining.

That's not to say the rock spirit can't be captured on film. Over the years, some great performances have been set down in celluloid. But the movie moments that seem most rock and roll don't always involve singing and dancing, or even drums and guitars. Here are a few prime examples of reel rock and roll:

The Girl Can't Help It (1956) -- Sure, there are performances by Little Richard, Gene Vincent, Fats Domino and Eddie Cochran. But few scenes caught the spirit of the music as eloquently as the sight of Jayne Mansfield sashaying down the street, causing men to stare, eyeglasses to shatter, and milk bottles to froth over. Obviously, they can't help it, either.

Jailhouse Rock (1957) -- Where did music video begin? Probably with the elaborately choreographed version of this film's title song, that's where. Easily the finest production number in any Elvis Presley movie -- and that's saying something.

The T.A.M.I. Show (1964) -- Talk about a battle of the bands! This film of an early rock and roll awards show featured virtually every band that mattered in 1964 -- Jan and Dean, Chuck Berry, the Supremes, the Beach Boys -- but the highlight of the show was James Brown's just-can't-quit rendition of "Please, Please, Please."

A Hard Day's Night (1964) -- If you ever want to explain Beatlemania to someone, simply show them this film's opening sequence, in which the four Fabs are chased all over a train station by screaming fans.

Blow Up (1966) -- David Hemmings, playing a disaffected photographer in swinging London, wanders into a club as the Yardbirds -- featuring both Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page on guitar -- rip into "Stroll On." Beck's amp acts up, and he trashes his gear, tossing his broken guitar neck into the audience. After a mad scramble, Hemmings seizes the prize and sprints outside -- only to realize that all he has is a bit of broken guitar. A brilliant metaphor for the empty mania of pop fandom.

Gimme Shelter (1970) -- A chilling documentary of the Rolling Stones' 1969 American tour, it climaxes at Altamont, where Meredith Hunter was stabbed to death by Hell's Angels as the Stones played "Under My Thumb." But as horrifying as the killing is, the film's real sucker punch comes later, as Mick Jagger and Charlie Watts are shown in the editing room, dispassionately watching raw footage of the murder.

The Harder They Come (1973) -- Gangsta rap has nothing on the bad-boy iconography of this film. Not content with merely making himself a star, Ivan (Jimmy Cliff) fashions himself as a gun-toting, rude boy rebel in a sequence that vividly illustrates the Slickers' "Johnny Too Bad."

National Lampoon's Animal House (1978) -- At a frat party, Blutarsky (John Belushi) walks over to a folk singer (Stephen Bishop) who is wooing a girl by singing "I Gave My Love a Cherry." Blutarsky listens, asks to borrow the guitar, then smashes it against the wall. In a nutshell, rock's attitude toward folk.

The Kids Are Alright (1979) -- As many great performances as there are in this well-paced documentary, nothing quite captures the madness that was the Who as the brief scene in which guitarist Pete Townshend describes a visit to his audiologist. Quoth Townshend, "He says to me, 'Have you considered learning to lip-read?' "

Say Anything (1989) -- Director Cameron Crowe started out as a rock critic, and it shows in the way he uses music to ground this class-conscious high school love story. But the most memorable sequence comes after working class lunk Lloyd Dobler (John Cusak) has been dumped by brainy rich girl Dianne Court (Ione Skye). Rather than try to talk his way back into her heart, he stands outside her bedroom, holds up a boombox, and blares Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes." It would be hard to imagine a more eloquent depiction of how much meaning a pop song can carry.

Wayne's World (1992) -- Forget Cassandra (Tia Carrera) and her band, or even the "No 'Stairway to Heaven' " sign in the guitar shop. The real rock and roll moment in this film comes when Wayne (Mike Meyers), Garth (Dana Carvey) and crew lip-sync to Queen's operatically extravagant "Bohemian Rhapsody." The ultimate air-guitar moment.

Pub Date: 03/07/99