Todd Haynes is one of the most talented young directors at work today. SUPERSTAR: THE KAREN CARPENTER STORY, told entirely with Barbie dolls (and legally restrained from public screening), has become legend. SAFE and POISON were uncompromising. DOTTIE GETS SPANKED, a 30-minute effort for a PBS series, packed tremendous insight and compassion into its all-too-brief running time. Now, working with a bigger budget, Haynes digs deep into 1970's lore with VELVET GOLDMINE (Miramax). He turns back the clock to swinging London when glam rock was big. Glitter, feather boas and heavy eyeliner were de rigueur among the rock star set. Androgeny was king (or queen?). Remember Iggy Pop? Still mourning Ziggy Stardust? Who WAS Gary Glitter? GOLDMINE is a highly scenic tour of that era and alternates between brilliant and messy. Haynes borrows a framing device from Orson Welles, as his CITIZEN SLADE takes off. In 1984, a reporter in search of the missing pop star Brian Slade questions those nearest and dearest who may give some insight into the rise and fall of the glitzy icon. Brian has mysteriously disappeared after fans deserted him following a faked on-stage shooting. In the words of Bette Midler, "Crowd turns on diva." At times you need a map through this GOLDMINE, as the plot lines grow confusing, too many characters clog the screen and it becomes hard to tell the bewigged glitter boys apart. A second viewing to clarify things has been recommended by those in the know. The cast is impressive. Jonathan Rhys-Meyers is suitably pouty-faced and showy as Slade and as his alter ego, Maxwell Demon. Ewan McGregor, sans Brit accent, is the American variation, Curt Wild, and Toni Collette (with and without accent) plays the long-suffering Mrs. Slade. Excellent camerawork by Maryse Alberti, costumes by Sandy Powell, hair and make-up by Peter King and original music by Carter Burwell add to the substantial pleasure principle of VELVET GOLDMINE. The soundtrack also features the work of Brian Eno, Venus in Furs, T-Rex, Lou Reed, Roxy Music, Pulp and the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra. If only we could work up some honest passion about the gender-bending flamboyants who remain mostly hidden behind the feathers and the Maybelline. --Jim Byerley