Relationships + Music + TopFive Lists + The 90s = My #1 Favorite Movie of All Time

Rating: 8/10 (20 March 2013)

The fact that this is my favorite movie (at least since 2007) and I still gave it a 8 out of 10 speaks mainly to my acknowledgment that the movie lacks some critical elements that make a "Classic Movie." However, for the sheer scope and ubiquity of the subject matter tackled in High Fidelity, I rank it #1 in my All-time favorite movies category.
First off, it approaches relationships from the perspective of any emotionally confused, disenfranchised, 20something male, making it a rare gem for that viewing demographic. The opening sequence launches directly into this motif, as Rob's girlfriend (Laura) is packing her things to leave as he primes us for the main theme of the movie: tracing his relationships with women to the present day in an attempt to uncover a solution to his broken love life. His revelations throughout the narrative reflect the selfishness inherent in his age, and by the time he comes to an emotional nirvana at the end, you almost want him to suffer a lonely life (but not in a sequel). Alas, this story is happier than reality would allow him to be.
The musical flavor of the narrative is central in the same way that the computer theme was central in the Tron movies. Music saturates this movie. Rob (John Cusack) is a music lover running a record store in the heart of Chicago, which gave us modern Jazz and House. Although technically a 90s genre film, the script (which comes from the eponymous British novel) references music from all eras of musicology, and one scene in particular, in which Rob and his store crew (Jack Black and Todd Louiso) are referred to as "music snobs," resonates beyond the film's own yearbook to a future that includes the "indie kid" and "hipster" generation.
Finally, two aspects of this movie appealed to me in particular, and launched the movie into my #1 spot: the art of the Top Five list and the cult of the 90s. I love Top Five lists, and if you ever have a hard time small-talking someone, just ask them to name their Top Five of anything. Most people will say they like too much stuff to rank any of it, but that's malarkey because once you say your Top Five they'll argue with at least one of your choices, meaning they do have the capacity for ranking things. This movie starts with a Top Five list, which is basically how Rob outlines the order in which he will investigate his previous love interests: the Top Five Worst Breakups in His Life. As for the importance of the 90s setting, let me just clarify by saying that the 1990s are in my Top Five favorite decades list. Musically, it may be #1.
The shortcomings that dropped it a couple of spots (I never give movies a 10) are nitpicky, but evident enough to limit the movie's rewatchability. One such shortcoming is the seemingly free-wheeling script given to Jack Black. Some of the things he says and does appear, well, too Jack Blackish for the movie I want to watch, and he wears thin early on as an obnoxious, abrasive, and fatuous character who wouldn't have many friends in real life (not that he does in the movie...). Katherine Zeta's lines are similarly contrived, as are a few other roles. Another pitfall is the pointless plot detour at the end of the movie when Rob is deciding about his long-term life with Laura and encounters an informed local music journalist. Sparks fly, and just as we think the movie could get 20 minutes longer, it doesn't.
Although there are enough problems with this movie to bring it down a notch or two, it does include my favorite movie elements all in one feature presentation: it's funny, it approaches love from the guy's perspective, it's musically themed, it includes Top Five lists, it's set in the 90s, and it takes place somewhere other than New York or California.
I highly recommend seeing (and owning) this movie if you like at least two of those elements.