’m just so nervous.” As Montgomery (Paul McCrane) recites a heartfelt sequence of lines as one of numerous auditions – ranging from acting to musical instruments to singing to ballet – he flubs the last couple of sentences. This, of course, is expected during this series of trying trials at New York City’s High School for Performing Arts, where thousands of talented (and untalented) students vie for a spot. On this last day for applicants, many of the hopefuls don’t seem to fit in well, much to the chagrin of the instructors who are required to give everyone a chance. Hilariously, parents occasionally accompany their kids, enthusiastically supporting youths with no hopes of securing a place (the odds are definitely against the masses in these narrow fields).

“Why don’t you try the drama department?” The auditions process is quite the comic ordeal under the direction of Alan Parker, whose attentive lens captures an almost documentary-like feel as it watches an eclectic gathering of prospects perform, many of whom have no shot at their lofty dreams. As the picture transitions to freshman year, the accepted students begin to get singled out, with several of the select members receiving specific storylines that follow anticipated arcs for these types of pictures. The humorous realism of the opening soon gives way to carefully orchestrated drama – and not just in the acting classes.

“Be yourself.” Despite the focus on the performing arts (while also efficiently recording a snapshot of a time and a place, such as with a late-night screening of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”), “Fame” is still about high school teenagers, who must contend with fitting in, peer pressures, romances, cliques, fears (and psychological issues or family turmoil), the stresses of schoolwork itself, and adolescent shenanigans (one moment even finds a couple of guys peering into a girls locker room). And it’s oftentimes quite fun in the process, highlighted early on by a scene at lunch where an assortment of capable musicians and dancers and singers spontaneously put on a show, somehow harmoniously combining a divergent multitude of skills into a joyous jubilee. It’s too much commotion for shy Doris (Maureen Teefy), who struggles with the exuberance and flamboyance of her classmates, though she longs for the attention of one of the cute, older boys (who follows the formula of striking potential that still isn’t enough in such a competitive world).

As it charts engaging personas, learning to harness their abilities while contending with hormones and high expectations, aspirations wax and wane; even the shift into sophomore year tends to separate out the more sincere participants from those who can’t cut it in an increasingly demanding setting (junior and senior years pose even greater challenges and academic fine-tuning). Though there are personal stories weaving through this detailed observation (containing standard ups and downs in friendships and dating and rivalries), the ensemble design and chronological nature make this much more of an analyzation of an artistic path; the players themselves are less memorable than the scenes, many of which are rambunctiously exciting or compelling in the proficiency of individual performances. Smooth transitions, often accompanied by music and singing from pupils within the film, are complementarily superb, setting the alternating tones of seriousness and lightheartedness to match the students and their colorful journeys.

“Dancers don’t get sick.” A handful of scenes go on a little too long, as if Parker insists upon giving the many talents as much screentime as possible (making the most of candid interactions and powerful numbers), regardless of their impact on the storytelling and pacing; but for the most part, there’s a consistent enthusiasm and verve. It’s generally inspirational and uplifting, particularly when characters find temporary successes. By the senior year, “Fame’s” vision narrows considerably, until it only inspects the students whose presences have had the most potency – such as as the rebellious Leroy (Gene Anthony Ray), the optimistic yet naive Coco (Irene Cara), and the jokey yet antagonistic Ralph (Barry Miller). Striving for fame certainly takes its toll, especially on young people who can’t possibly prepare themselves for the weight of failure, let alone the mental costs and pressures of genuine accomplishments. But this is a prelude to actual stardom; by the end, it’s once again a lively, momentous demonstration of craft.

– Mike Massie