As a lullaby to Baby Boomers reflecting on childhood just at the moment of becoming parents themselves, American Graffiti gripped audiences of 1973 with a story about four friends. Tagged with the question, "Where were you in '62?" it begins on the night of the last day of summer in an unnamed Southern California town. Some two hours later, it ends the following morning after a series of life changing adventures that affect the four leads before offering a brief scrawl that reveals their eventual paths beyond the scope of the film.

With black and white photos super-imposed over the final shot of an airplane climbing into the clouds, an apt symbol for the future if ever there was one, the resonance of 1962 gives American Graffiti its final, melancholic tone. Screenwriters George Lucas, Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck forecast drag racing, good-hearted John (Paul Le Mat) begin killed by a drunk driver in 1964. Awkward outsider Terry (Charles Martin Smith) was similarly lost as an MIA Vietnam soldier in 1965 while confident, hometown-bound Steve (Ron Howard) ends up an insurance agent in Modesto, CA. Only self-doubting Curt (Richard Dreyfuss) is envisioned with creative possibility in having become a Canada-based writer, the only one of the four to achieve an idealized expression of success from the generation born in the wake of World War II.

Undue weight can be placed on these four summaries briefly flashed on-screen before the ending credits yet it's their influence that forms the final impression of American Graffiti as being filled with sadness. In this fashion the weightiness of nostalgia is fully developed with its lean towards both the plastic reminders of bygone times along with the invocation of a lost spirit of innocence. Suffused everywhere in the film is this duality of pleasant memories, youthful vigor and simplicity that are all three counter-balanced by the coming of troubled times, maturity's caution and the unthinkable complexity beyond any person's early experience.

Using images to represent this duality the nearly 300 pre-1962-era cars seen throughout the film, and that were supplied by over a thousand car buffs, were a literal symbol of the style, slang and preoccupations of the times. The very presence of these cars with their antique quality, not to mention the popular music echoing from them to give the movie a pulse beneath its story about four young men, the entire picture is consumed by its moment in time. That this moment was a pivot for so much heartache, cultural damage and burgeoning adulthood is significant when given its resonance for Baby Boomers remembering how it might have been to end childhood if only for the presence of a movie crew.

More significantly Lucas's sophomore feature film gave light to an idea about remembering times past that was wholly in synch with the moment. Using a highly mobile camera and sound equipment, easily understood characters and an intentionally stripped down context to reflect on the breakpoint of children meeting adult responsibility, he tapped directly into the zeitgeist of the early 1970s. Of course this had to do with the fall-out left behind by the passed 1960s, the coming of Watergate and most certainly with the rather total echo of Vietnam on the proceedings. But it is also demonstrates a fascination with these events by deliberately ignoring them through a setting in 1962 before any of them were influences acting on day-to-day circumstances within the movie's action.

Thus 1962 becomes a pure moment in the film's vision of time and experience. It is the origin of happiness and doubt for Curt, Steve, John and Terry who each become men through the accidental experiences of their final evening before Curt and Steve are set to leave for college and despite their own carefully maintained image of themselves, a la John and Terry.

Budgeted for $750,000 and shot in 29 days through the combined efforts of Lucas's newly formed Lucasfilm Ltd., producer Francis Ford Coppola's mini-studio The Coppola Company and the reach of distributor Universal Pictures, the film was a runaway hit. Grossing some $115 million with $55 million returned in rentals returned to the producers it spawned an eventual sequel and helped launch a '70s focus on the '50s and '60s. There was later the birth of TV's Happy Days and the basis of many important show business careers first associated with this movie including writer/director George Lucas, actor-turned-director Ron Howard, actor Richard Dreyfuss, actor Harrison Ford and writer/director/producer-turned-mogul Francis Ford Coppola.

Opening with Curt and Steve agreeing to spend their last night in town raising a little hell before heading off to college, each is concerned about what life holds for them, but for different reasons. Curt is unsure if he's ready to leave home while Steve intends to distance himself from his high school girlfriend Laurie (Cindy Williams) only to discover she's more important to him than any other aspiration he holds for himself.

Giving Terry the keys to his car for safekeeping while he's away, Steve also gives his buck-toothed friend a secret pass with which he meets fast-living Debbie (Candy Clark). Their unconventional romance blossoms as John cruises the streets looking for chicks and being forced to take underage Carol (Mackenzie Phillips) out on the town, all the while trying to avoid being forced to defend his fastest man title against his latest upstart named Bob (Harrison Ford).

Punctuating these story strands is the pervasive overnight radio prattle of a popular, but improbably mythologized, DJ (Wolfman Jack) and a veritable library of top-40 hits from the early '60s. Together these sounds fill-in the gaps of storytelling and score the relentlessness of teenagers cruising small town streets looking for action and good times.

Curt spies a beautiful blonde in a T-Bird (Suzanne Somers) and falls in step with a street gang, both experiences confirming the importance of escaping the broken dreams and stalled lives of staying at home. Steve explains how he wants to have an open relationship with Laurie but ends losing her only to be reunited after she uses Bob to upset him. John shows he's a nice guy despite the greaser image he affects within his expected small town role and ends up successfully defending his speedster reputation. And Terry ends up giving Debbie a good time despite his lies and bumbling to emerge a more confident person with new hopes for his post-high school life.

Never mind the fact of how American Graffiti seems somewhat corny in light of so many films and TV shows that have used its formula and tone to different ends, it remains a satisfying film for casual viewers and cinephiles alike. For those in the latter category it's fun to look through the supporting characters to spy the likes of Kathleen Quinlan and Manuel Padilla Jr. just as it's possible to see the Lucas and Coppola friendship made manifest with Coppola's movie Dementia 13 displayed on the movie marquee in one of the film's many cruising sequences.

Altogether I'm not sure if American Graffiti is the kind of movie that should be, or ever will be, named movie of the year even while stating that I'm a fan of its nostalgic trip. My reasons for inserting some distance between my critical impression and the film's cultural importance comes from recognizing that it is a poignant portrait of four friends in 1962 but it's also somewhat limited by this self-same structure and purpose. Critics during its original release seemed to waffle on this same point as well in nominating the film for top Academy Award honors and giving it one of the top Golden Globe awards.

Though Curt, Steve, John and Terry are convincing players in a wonderfully layered ensemble film, they are also stock characters. One is a reluctant dreamer (Curt), one is a straight-shooting small town realist (Steve), one is a mislabeled bad guy (John) and one is a geek (Terry). Plus they're all four white kids living through a decidedly suburban fantasy of doubts and possibilities that the early 1970s were throwing into question with the penetration of Civil Rights actions, ERA lobbyists and media investigations into the margins of society.

A nostalgic tone, brilliant popular soundtrack and winning performances displace these inconsistencies with 1973, and so too does the movie's setting 11 years previous to the date of its release. With these points of limitation, however, I still watch American Graffiti and believe it's a more touching and important film than eventual Oscar-winner The Sting that purposefully avoids using any of the human resonance and personal warmth of Lucas's comparatively little film. In the end Lucas ends up the real winner in any discussion of his loosely autobiographical coming of age film.

Star Wars followed soon after and the rest is, as they say, history.