Jack Black in 'School of Rock'

In a typecasting coup on the caliber of Roseanne playing a bossy white-trash housewife, School of Rock stars Jack Black as Dewey Finn. A tacky, smelly, hung-over guitarist whose obnoxious immaturity is ultimately redeemed via an unwavering and sincere devotion to the fine art of rocking out, sleeping late and "sticking it to the man" whenever possible.

At School of Rock's opening bell, Dewey is on a losing streak to rival the Detroit Tigers. He's just been kicked out of the group he started when they were about to compete in a $20,000 battle of the bands. Adding further appetite-enhancing stress is chronic unemployment which has brought him within a week of eviction from the apartment he shares with his best friend Ned (Mike White), a current substitute teacher and former band mate, and Ned's perpetually pissed-off girlfriend played by Sarah Silverman. Miss Silverman must be an amazing actress, because she couldn't possibly be as bitchy in real life as she is here.

Meanwhile, back oversleeping in a dirty T-shirt, Dewey scams his way into a day gig impersonating Ned at a local private elementary school where sometime between his grueling curriculum of all-day recess and lunch he sees his pupils shine at a music class. He then gets the multi-platinum idea to convince them to ditch Bach for British blues and back him at the battle of the bands where he can win the $20k and sleep late happily ever after.

Usually one must go to a Rob Schneider film festival to find a plot as thin as School of Rock. But gold stars to Black, director Richard Linklater and writer/actor Mike White for successfully sustaining a one-note theme and duck walking through the minefield of cute in which movies with kids (or David Spade) frequently get blown to bits. And give a hand to the ¾-sized band members who, for the most part, play their own instruments and are one of the handful of rock ensembles (along with Blue Oyster Cult and UFO) to get away with employing the most evil, emasculating instrument of all time -- keyboards.

Further testament to School of Rock's credibility is that no one in the well-attended screening dared leave during the lengthy closing credits in which the miniature maestros of mayhem jam out on an extended cover of AC/DC's "It's a Long Way to the Top." Considering that the yellow-brick road of pop history is paved by such marketing genius as Debbie Gibson's mall tour of the 1980s, the School of Rock band just may be coming soon to a Chucky Cheese near you.

Lastly, School of Rock earns extra credit for a solid soundtrack that spans classic rock's late '60s - mid '70s golden years, from the pulse-pounding power chords of Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC to the primordial punk of the Velvet Underground, Modern Lovers and Ramones.

As graded by the curve of a Gibson SG, School of Rock can't help but pass with Flying V colors. Jack Black and his pre-teen rhythm machine teach a crash cymbal course to the youth of today that music didn't begin with Christina Aquilera or P. Diddy. Furthermore, the film works as a refresher course for the thirty-somethings in the audience who think they are now too ancient to rock. If your heart burns with the fire of a Jimi Hendrix solo, it could be indigestion, but more likely it's high-voltage proof that you're only as old as your guitar strings. So to paraphrase '60s icon/acid-guru Timothy Leary, "plug in, turn on and crank up!" Just check your tuning after every stage dive and be home in time for dinner.