Vinyl is what thirty-something Rob sells, though this doesn't mean any attachment to dance music or clubbing, subjects on which Rob and his fiercely opinionated colleagues are strangely silent. He and his colleagues are strangers to the MP3 player not for them the illicit delights of, and even CDs are a bit too fancy and modern. Neither wicked nor virile enough for out-and-out misogyny, the guys retreat into an avoidant world of music snobbery, attacking each others' anally retentive "top five" music lists of all-time highs and lows. Dick and Barry seem never to have had one. Rob has recently been dumped by his girlfriend, Laura. It's where he and his two sad-case employees, Dick and Barry, hang out all the livelong day. John Cusack is Rob, the owner of Championship Vinyl, which is that most old- fashioned of things, a "record shop" or rather record store. It is a respectful yet perceptibly upbeat account of this compelling and mawkish novel of male self-pity and self-forgiveness: retaining much of the original text but transferring the action from the gloomy Holloway Road (easily London's most Soviet boulevard) to a bright and sunlit Chicago.
H igh Fidelity without the whingeing? It's like Hamlet without the Prince! That is going to be the reaction of many Nick Hornby readers - fans and non-fans alike - to Stephen Frears' screen version of Hornby's modern classic.
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