Readers of a certain vintage – and others who may ponder the mindset of such folk – might care to take a celluloid drift down memory lane on the intoxicating wings of certain ...  er ... vapours.

Let me clarify. Back at the end of the fabled '60s a film emerged which attracted a cult following and brought extended business to Sydney's Mandarin Cinema in Elizabeth Street and selected venues.

It is said you could become high just walking past the cinema as the louche queue shuffled towards the vestibule for late night screenings.

The Harder They Come is a gem – a  simple but  immensely important movie that more or less introduced reggae/rocksteady/ska music to a generation.

The film's soundtrack – performed by its leading actor, Jimmy Cliff –  remains  a classic.

The Johnny B. Goode scenario is based on an actual character and events which played out in the 1940s. Country boy Ivanhoe Martin  comes to Kingston after the death of his dear old granny harbouring dreams of making it in the music scene.

After rebuilding a derelict bicycle he works as a courier for a not-entirely savoury record producer. A knife fight with the bike's original owner leads to a court imposed flogging. Ivan chronicles his sense of injustice in a song The Harder They Come, which his boss records.

It's a hit. The boss makes a packet yet pays Ivan a piddling $20. Disenchanted, he turns to couriering drugs for his mate, Jose (Carl Bradshaw), but is again dudded after asking for better pay and conditions. Jose dobs him in to the cops, precipitating gunfire. Ivan becomes an outlaw, a wanted man and – in essence – the man who shot the sheriff.

I don't know which of the alternative endings is being screened or whether it has subtitles to clarify some of the broader patois.

Either way it matters little. This is more than nostalgia.

It remains a significant film of its time and is recommended enthusiastically.