Anyone looking for a true sense of his importance in the history of rock-and-roll will be let down by Great Balls of Fire. But though the film may skimp on the truth, it is loaded with terrific music and outrageous fun.

A loud, careering thunderbolt of a bipoic, that leaves behind an imprint of the myth, if not enough of the man.

The acting is superb. Quaid, who practiced piano 12 hours a day (Lewis dubbed the vocals), has Lewis's megalomaniacal theatricality and perverse ignorance down perfectly, and his white-trash accent as well. Winona Ryder turns in a stunning performance as Myra, not only looking but feeling 13. And X frontman John Doe is quietly pathetic as Myra's father and Lewis's long-suffering sideman (along with guitarist Jimmie Vaughn and drummer Mojo Nixon).

Great Balls of Fire gives us a Jerry Lee Lewis who has been sanitized, popularized and lobotomized. Even then, the story ends in 1959 - before most of the events for which "The Killer" became notorious.

Lewis’s vintage rock is still cause for cheering. Too bad the movie that contains these Killer sounds never rises above a whimper.