There are few actors more enjoyable to watch than John Cusack, especially when he embraces one of his hapless "average guy" roles like those he defined in 80's films like Say Anything and Better Off Dead. With High Fidelity, which he co-wrote and co-produced, Cusack draws on his teen- age roots, offering up a hero and a film that may well become an anthem for guys everywhere.

Deftly adapted from the novel by Brit writer Nick Hornby, High Fidelity transfers its male angst from trendy London to hip Chicago without missing a beat. Likewise Cusack's portrayal of Rob Gordon, an unassuming record store owner, doesn't lose his flippancy simply by becoming American. If anything, he becomes more tangible to us because now he could be the guy next door. Rob's problems echo those of thirtysomething men everywhere. He isn't ready to grow up, yet he wants a "real", serious life, something that his girlfriend Laura (Iben Hjejle) has already figured out. He wants love, but isn't sure he can commit.

It's this ambivalence that leads Laura to walk and Rob to obsess about all his "top five" break-ups. (The "top five" metaphor appears again and again, especially in terms of music, offering a rich array of scripting possibilities which the writers milk unerringly.) We see each of Rob's lovelorn "top five" memories in brief, but telling flashbacks that take us through his life from boyhood to manhood. So intense are his memories of these breakups that he decides to look up each of these women and figure out what went wrong. Maybe then, he'll be ready to fight for Laura, who has moved in with Ian, a walking parody of the "sensitive male" played with pony-tailed, Zen-like creepiness by Tim Robbins. The relationship between Laura and Rob is perhaps the weakest link in an otherwise richly realized film, but then, the real story here isn't about Laura and Rob, it's about Rob all the way.

As Rob struggles to decide if he still wants Laura in his life, he admits that he hasn't been the best lover in the world. Few actors could remain likeable after admitting to some of Rob's worse traits, but Cusack manages to make this guy so real and honest that you can't help but relate to him. In many ways, this movie is what it is because of Cusack. The reason is that Cusack doesn't apologize for Rob being "a guy." Rob admits to having fantasies; he even admits to cheating. He knows he's a jerk, but he argues that it's natural. And we believe him. After all, the playing field is so juicy, how can a guy stay true to one girl? It's this dilemma that is at the core of Rob's existence. He wants to be true and, in order to grow up, what he has to learn is that loving one woman doesn't take away who he is, it solidifies it.

The reason that High Fidelity works so well is that it comes directly from character, a character who is flawed and who asks that we accept his flaws. Plot is not the focus here; indeed, there isn't so much a plot in this film as a mellow, self-exploratory journey. Usually, this sort of narrative would spell doom for a film, but here the concept is approached with such energy and wit that it can't help but succeed. The chemistry among the actors, especially the repartee between Cusack, the soul of irreverence, and his co-workers Barry (Jack Black at his best) and the self-effacing Dick (Todd Louiso), is perfect. The wall-to-wall soundtrack (61 songs in all) only adds to the atmosphere.

While he has certainly been given a lot to work with, director Stephen Frears knows just how to weave this whimsical tale, which may likely become the seminal "what makes guys tick" film. Take a date, take a spouse, take yourself. If you don't learn anything, you'll still laugh at this all-too-realistic view of the human -- make that the male -- condition.