Drab loves dweeb in 'Nick and Norah'

Michael Cera has to be the movies' most unlikely chick magnet since Bela Lugosi.

Cera may not have a chin, or visible shoulders, or a change of clothes - this guy has worn the same zippered hoodie in three straight movies - but on screen, he's fighting them off with a stick.

He's the only actor I can think of who's been date-raped twice ("Juno," "Superbad"), and, incredibly, it almost happens again in "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" - the story of a sensitive guy who chooses between the hot, shallow girl and the plain, soulful girl, who in this case also happens to be pretty, so it's not like the guy can lose.

It all sorts itself out in the course of one crazy night in New York, as bass player Nick (Cera) and his high-school garage band bar-hop through Manhattan hoping to get a glimpse of a trendy indie band (clues to the impromptu show are disseminated on local radio).

Music links scenes and characters - Cera mixes lovesick CDs for the girl (Alexis Dziena) who dumped him. She dumps the CDs as well, but they're picked up by Norah (Kat Dennings), who feels like she connects to the mixmaster.

The characters swirl around each other during the narrative's midnight-in-the-city odyssey, as melody and fate conspire to bring soul mates together.

This can work, if the details resonate, and Cera and Dennings generate some sparks working under the erratic direction of Peter Sollett. Dennings is sweet, and Cera's dweeb routine still works in the context of comedy, although I think it's time he bought a set free weights.

"Nick And Norah" will have its greatest appeal for audiences still young enough to believe that mix-tapes are the food of love. ("High Fidelity" had a more realistic view.) I, frankly, am too old for this. I did the all-night, bar-hopping, diner-at-dawn thing and, now, just watching it gives me a hangover.

I'll be with the fogies, watching "Appaloosa." *

Produced by Kerry Kohansky, Chris Weitz, Paul Weitz and Andrew Miano, directed by Peter Sollett, written by Lorene Scafaria, music by Mark Mothersbaugh, distributed by Sony Pictures.