They do look like young gods at first. ''Such beautiful boys,'' as one neighbor says, strong and brave on the high school football field, glowing with confidence afterward; handsome, popular, golden. But half an hour into the ABC film ''Our Guys: Outrage in Glen Ridge,'' when these teen-agers walk into a room as a group, their red-and-yellow football jackets might as well be gang colors or the uniform of an enemy army. Privilege has bred a dangerous arrogance, even if the neighbors refuse to see it.
''Our Guys'' is the story of the 1989 gang rape in Glen Ridge, N.J., of a mentally retarded 17-year-old girl. It is also the story of a value system that reveres and protects good looks and success, at any age, while disregarding the rights of the weak or different. The portrait is of a community that sees gang rape, if committed by white boys with nice suits and college plans, as a youthful prank. ''Our Guys'' is a quiet, intelligent, complicated, thought-provoking film that deserves to be seen.
Heather Matarazzo, the teen-age actress who made her film debut as an unhappy seventh grader in ''Welcome to the Dollhouse,'' gives an outstanding performance as Leslie Faber. (The character name is a pseudonym given to the victim by Bernard Lefkowitz, a journalism professor at Columbia, in his book about the case.) Ally Sheedy, a little hardened since her Brat Pack days, is good (if somewhat self-satisfied) as Kelly Brooks, the police detective who presses the case when others just want it to go away.
Eric Stoltz plays Robert Laurino, the prosecutor, with his usual excellence. In a uniformly good cast, Kett Turton stands out in a small role as John Tierney, a decent student who takes action. Paul Brown's script and Guy Ferland's direction make virtually every character and action believable and understandable.
When Glen Ridge's adults first react to the suggestion that a group of high school football players have committed rape, they reveal something about their priorities, too. ''These are the good kids; they can get any girl they want,'' says Lieut. Frank Bennett (Eric Keenleyside), Kelly's boss, whose son may have been involved. ''We're having a tough enough season as it is.'' And predictably enough, the boys offer the ''she wanted it'' defense, to which the prosecutor replies, ''Since when does consensual sex involve a bat and a broom?''
Leslie has such a desperate, childlike need to please and to fit in that she changes her story constantly, even in court. And her understanding of the situation may not be complete. When she first sees a television news report about the case, she turns to her parents, crying ''How could you lie and say I was retarded?'' and runs to her room. Soon her classmates are wearing yellow ribbons to show support for the boys. And the community has turned against Leslie. (''She's the one ruining this town with a vicious rumor.'')
''Our Guys'' could have gone further. Some of the boys' ruder habits, like masturbating in the classroom, described in Mr. Lefkowitz's book, aren't referred to here. The worst practice described is their habit of watching, hidden in a closet, while one of their group has sex with an unwitting girl. (''It's completely 'Porky's,' '' says John. ''They live for it.'') And the rape scene itself, depicted at the end of the film, has been so toned down for network acceptability that what's left of the horror is anticlimactic.
After four years free on bail, two of the young men went to prison. A third was sentenced to probation and community service. Charges against the police lieutenant's son were dropped.