The importance of Ritchie Valens in the history of rock 'n' roll is undeniable. Beyond his musical influence, however, the Mexican-American from Pacoima, Calif., is a symbol for the integration of Latin culture into American society.

La Bamba, which opens Friday at area theaters, is a film that chronicles the career of Ricardo Valenzuela, the teen-ager who rose to fame in the late 1950s as rock star Ritchie Valens. His career ended in a plane crash, only eight months after it had begun.

The hit that Valens is known for, La Bamba, is a song that embodies the scope of his influence. His rock 'n' roll adaptation of a traditional Mexican folk song integrated a broad range of musical styles -- everything from Mexican huapango and Afro-Cuban rhythms to strains of Bo Diddley.

The film's writer/director, Luis Valdez, agrees that Valens' influence on rock 'n' roll was important. "He opened the scope of what this popular art form was going to be," he says.

To Daniel Valdez, Luis' brother and associate producer of La Bamba, Valens (who is played by Lou Diamond Phillips) not only changed rock 'n' roll, but he also was an important role model.

"He was an Hispanic who was not going to take the typical direction of what his life was destined to be. He was going to go out and grab the star," Daniel says.

Esai Morales, who co-stars in La Bamba as Valens' hot-headed half-brother, Bob, also looks beyond the rock 'n' roll success story, and credits Valens with helping to integrate Latin culture into mainstream America.

It is integration that the 24-year-old Puerto Rican actor feels the United States has overlooked in the past.

"America has had a cultural double standard in trying to keep its image to the world as progressive and advanced," Morales says. "There are all kinds of progressive and advanced beings and individuals that come from the mixture of so much wonderful blood."

Like Valens, the Valdezes are Mexican-Americans who have beaten the odds to achieve their goals.

Luis, an award-winning playwright and the first Mexican-American playwright/ director to be presented on Broadway, recently directed I Don't Have to Show You No Stinking Badges (which played at the Burt Reynolds Jupiter Theatre last year), a comedic play about stereotypes of Mexican-Americans in popular culture.

Hispanics, like blacks, suffer from labels in the media, he says. Whether it's an episode of Sanchez of Bel-Aire, the coke-sniffing Tony Montana in Scarface, or a "Shark" from West Side Story, the hackneyed images flourish.

"The people out there know Latins only through those images and consequently, it impacts on us. It impacts on every level," the 47-year-old Luis says.

The importance of true Hispanic representation in the media runs deep for the Valdezes as well. When asked just how important portraying Latins as human beings is, Luis could only respond with another question:

"How important is it to be alive?"

Valens' story runs counter to the stereotypes.

He was discovered in 1958, two months after his 17th birthday, by Los Angeles producer Bob Keane. The youngster shot out of obscurity with three hits -- La Bamba, Donna and Come On, Let's Go. His career ended on Feb. 3, 1959, when the plane in which he, Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper, were flying, crashed in a cornfield near Clear Lake, Iowa.

Even though he had recorded 22 songs (eight of which he wrote) in his eight months of fame, there has been little documentation on Valens' life. As Daniel says, there is plenty of information in rock history on Holly and The Big Bopper, but little on Valens.

"That wouldn't be so bad, if he hadn't achieved so much," says 38-year-old Daniel, whose own interest in music lead him to begin pursuing the Valens story almost 20 years ago.

In La Bamba, Daniel and Luis wanted moviegoers to get the true picture of Valens' life.

"This is not a nostalgia piece," Luis says. "We didn't want to look back at the '50s through rose-colored glasses. We wanted to bring Ritchie Valens -- in his own way -- back to life within a certain context."

That context is important to the filmmakers because the success story is typically American.

As Morales notes, Valens was a Mexican-American who didn't speak Spanish. The actor points out the influence Hispanics have had in the western United States. In the names alone -- Nevada, Colorado, Santa Fe, San Antonio, Los Angeles, San Francisco -- the reach of Hispanic culture is obvious.

"He's a dreamer and he succeeds," Luis says. "This guy didn't go down in that airplane because his career was failing. He went down in that airplane because he was shooting for the stars. In a sense you can say he was willing to risk his life."

"Risk his life" because Valens was terrified of flying. He was haunted by an event from his childhood -- a jet and an Army transport plane collided over his elementary school and pieces of the plane fell onto the basketball court, killing his best friend.

The crash scene from La Bamba was filmed at the school where it happened, but Luis substituted a Beechcraft Bonanza for the jet -- Valens died in a Beechcraft Bonanza.

The tragedy with which the film ends made writing and directing La Bamba a challenge. "Most people don't go to movies to get turned off," Luis says. "(So) we decided early on that this was going to be a story about survival, the survival of Ritchie's music and the survival of Ritchie's family."

"The industry ramifications of a movie like this being successful are going to be watched," Morales says. "(La Bamba is) going to pave the way, hopefully, for better representation of Hispanics in the media."

Morales has dealt with misrepresentation, most notably in his role as Paco, the Hispanic hate-vehicle that tormented Sean Penn and Ally Sheedy in Bad Boys.

"(Paco was) basically a one-dimensional character I was trying to squeeze two and three levels into," he says.

The role of Bob in La Bamba has more than one dimension, though. "It had the full arc of a true human being," Morales says. "I have to admit, it's my ultimate showcase, to this point."

To prepare for the part, Morales met Bob (whose last name also is Morales) and according to the actor, "We had a few beers and talked for hours and hours."

Although Valens' mother, Connie, and the rest of the Valenzuela family contributed essential details to the re-creation of the rocker's story, Bob was, in many ways, the guide for the filmmakers.