Despite its nudging, rambling title and Dustin Hoffman's mildly hippie appearance, "Who Is Harry Kellerman..." is a rather old-fashioned quest for one man seeking the Meaning of Life, which screenwriter Herb Gardner sees as being undermined by the inevitability of death. There are no pretenses here towards embracing a pseudo-hip scenario, and the lack of modish overtones keeps the film relevant and fresh. Hoffman plays an East Coast songwriter, currently being hailed by Time magazine as a prophet, who sees nothing meaningful in his existence, harkening back on his ordinary boyhood in order to make peace with the present. Accentuated by bursts of rock music, and defined by little bits of mordant truth, the film blessedly isn't a silly phantasmagoria, although some may see all this as a con--written by somebody who is out of step with the times (Gardner wrote the coy "A Thousand Clowns" after all). Yet, the movie manages a melancholic, sobering, almost disenfranchised tone, with director Ulu Grosbard mostly interested in revealing something tangible through his characters. Hoffman's Georgie Soloway can't enjoy living without relating it to dying, and so has suicidal flights-of-fancy, paranoiac personal dramas, and surreal sessions with a Viennese analyst. It's a good role for the star, while Oscar-nominated Barbara Harris is wonderful in the small part of a struggling actress who's still in love with 1957. It takes a while to get into the movie's groove, but there are worthwhile thoughts here, helped immeasurably by Victor Kemper's non-fussy cinematography and Grosbard's deep connection with the material. **1/2 from ****