The upcoming Ramones documentary, We're Outta Here (Nov. 25), leaves no question as to the importance of the group in, literally, remaking rock 'n' roll, not only through their own music and live performance, but by influencing thousands of musicians, including stars such as Eddie Vedder (who appears in the movie, which is being released on video cassette).

"It brought back a lot of memories," said Joey Ramone. "It brought back a lot of good memories. Seeing that early stuff and Mark's home footage... Watching all those intimate moments, those personal scenes... It kind of made me feel good about everything."

The defining moment in We're Outta Here comes near the very end of the hour and-a-half joy ride through the legendary New York punk godfathers' career. It's a simple image, practically black and white, with no voice-over or music to take away from the moment. The four members of the band don't even enter the frame.

In that moment, director Kevin Kerslake (Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins) trains his shaky camera on four leather jackets, hung side-by-side, in a poorly-lit backstage area. The explicit message, that the Ramones are, literally, hanging it up, is not nearly as powerful as the implicit message, that the Ramones were, and will always be, icons.

Whether it's a close-up of singer Joey Ramones' firmly-planted feet, guitarist Johnny's lightning-fast hands, or drummer Marky's skittering high-hat eight-notes, Kerslake captures both the essence of the band during their final live performance on Aug. 6, 1996 at L.A.'s Palace Theater, and their importance to rock history, through interviews with peers and archival footage of the group in their early days, such as a classic 1975 TV appearance in which the group performs "Loudmouth" (RealVideo excerpt).

As is fitting for the band widely credited with inventing punk rock in the early '70s, the Ramones are given a grand send-off in the film from the many artists who've been influenced by their work. Director Jim Jarmusch (Stranger Than Paradise, Dead Man, Year of the Horse) credits the band with inspiring his film style and former Richard Hell and the Voidoids leader Richard Hell calls them the "secret, real Chuck Berry of the '70s," adding with a touch of joking irony, "they made smash hit after smash hit, it's just that nobody bought them."

Also along for the ride during the band's final show are Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder, who duets with Joey Ramone on the Dave Clark Five's "Any Way You Want It," Soundgarden's Chris Cornell and Ben Shepherd , original bassist Dee Dee Ramone, Lemmy from Motorhead and Rancid's Tim Armstrong and Lars Frederiksen. "That show followed our Lollapalooza thing and everyone just sort of stayed around and partook," said Joey Ramone of Rancid and Soundgarden, who shared the bill with their heroes on 1996's Lollapalooza.

Also included in the film are testimonials and anecdotes from ex-Talking Heads' Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz, former Dead Kennedys' leader Jello Biafra (who tells a hilarious story about discovering the band when he came across their first album in a $1 clearance record rack), long-departed original drummer/manager Tommy Ramone, Smashing Pumpkins' guitarist James Iha, Rock and Roll High School director Alan Arkush, White Zombie leader Rob Zombie and the Stray Cats' Slim Jim.

Some of the most revealing moments are the archival footage from the band's first CBGB's show in 1974, an early appearance on England's Old Grey Whistle Test and a surreal guest spot on the Sha Na Na show, in which the leather-clad band perform "Rock and Roll High School" while the Sha Na Na spangles-and-drag-dressed greaser crew shimmy and shake all around.

And while Hell and the band members repeatedly lament the Ramones' difficulty in selling records and breaking through in the U.S., Marky Ramone's home video footage of the band's rabid Argentinean fans softens the blow a bit. "There's some real heavy stuff from Argentina," said Joey Ramone about the clips in which hundreds of Beatlemania-style crazed fans are practically shaking the group's van apart as they try to leave their hotel. "You watch that and it scares the shit out of you. The kids were so passionate there, which I guess is one thing about the Ramones' fans, they were all pretty much underdogs and outcasts. They could relate to us because we're the same."

Kerslake's oddly-angled shots of the live show, many of which seem to have been the result of mis-aimed cameras, start to make sense by the end. Joey's unwavering, 22-year stance. Johnny, dead serious, flailing away at his Mosrite guitar. CJ delivering the utterly minimal bass lines. Marky pounding out the double time beats.

Those leather jackets.

[Mon., Nov. 10, 1997, 9 a.m. PST]