"VELVET GOLDMINE," the new film opening Friday about the '70s Glam Rock scene, is a confusing movie. On the one hand, you want to praise it for its stylishness and originality in tackling some fascinating subject matter. On the other hand, it's frustrating because it could have been so much better.

The movie is a love note to some of music's most influential personages, primarily David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Bryan Ferry and Lou Reed. Unfortunately, it would have been a better movie if it were a straight documentary on the era, using concert footage and remembrances from the principal players - not to mention the original music.

Instead, what writer / director Todd Haynes ( "Safe," "Poison" ) has created is a bastardized amalgam that blurs the characters, their individual stories, their cross-influences and relationships and all manner of everything else, including tossing in Oscar Wilde as the original Glam Rocker.

For someone coming fresh to the stories, this might be fine. But for anyone with a working knowledge of the Bowie / Reed / Iggy story, the mix and match approach is a trifle maddening.

The movie stars Jonathan Rhys-Meyers as Brian Slade, a bi-sexual musician who fakes his own murder at a concert at the height of his sequined stardom, only to suffer public backlash when the truth is revealed. A young man in the audience at the time, Arthur Stuart (Christian Bale), grows up to work for a magazine and is assigned, 10 years after the publicity stunt gone awry, to tell the Slade story.

The tale is told through flashbacks, with Ewan McGregor playing Curt Wild, the Iggy character, and various other outrageously outfitted platform-heeled types frolicking in the anything-goes, is-he-a-man-or-a-woman excitement of the times. As one of the characters says in expressing his disdain for the hippie peace and love movement, "The real revolution is sexual."

In this realm, "Velvet Goldmine" is refreshingly adventurous. There are lots of guys-with-guys scenes and gay screen kisses, pretty much an honest depiction of the times, when gender roles were being blurred and experimentation was not only encouraged, but practically demanded.

However, and it saddens me no end to say this, where the movie really falls down is in the music. With R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe serving as executive producer, the filmmakers were able to assemble an impressive group of musicians to form some of the movie's mythical bands, including Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore and real-life Stooge Ron Asheton. In addition, Radiohead's Thom Yorke takes a couple of vocal turns.

The idea is solid, but the problem comes not so much with the use of cover versions of some great songs, but the inclusion in the soundtrack of some of the original versions of great songs. When you hear Lou Reed sing "Satellite of Love" or Roxy Music wail on "Virginia Plain," or especially anything by T-Rex, then all of the covers pale by comparison, no matter how great the musicians involved are. They should have either used all originals or all covers, because the mix cheats the covers. And if you have a music movie where the music doesn't hold up, it makes for a bit of a sorry movie.

One of the fun parts is seeing McGregor, of "Trainspotting" fame, handle all his own vocals in his wild rock star sequences. He holds his own pretty well, proving that rock stars want to be movie stars and movie stars want to be rock stars. Maybe they should just rotate every year.

"Velvet Goldmine" is also way too long, lasting well over two hours. Considering how much could have easily been cut, it makes for a long ride. It's great they made this movie, it's too bad they didn't do a better job.

Movie Review "Velvet Goldmine'

* CAST Ewan McGregor, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Christian Bale

* DIRECTOR Todd Haynes

* WRITER Haynes

* RATED R

* THEATER Embarcadero

* EVALUATION **