quettes and eager beaux flirt and huff,rntease and screech. Pope has Belinda losernher treasured curl, the paradoxical emblemrnof her desirabilit}” and her irginit’,rnwhile leaning over the silver coffee pot torninhale its fumes, hi the film, Brosnanrnflirts with Rnsso in an elegant restaurant,rnbegging her permission to ask “a ver’ personalrnquestion.” “Would you,” he insinuates,rn”like another hit of my espresso?”rnShe rises from the table, laughing at him.rn”You don’t really think I’m going to sleeprnwith the man I am investigating,” shernmocks and flounces off to the ladiesrnroom.rnBoth vorlds are exquisitely manneredrnbut emotionally cold, almost inhumanlyrnso. Style counts more than substance,rnmanners more than morals. Who betterrnto pla- Pope’s updated romantic antagonistsrnthan Russo and Brosnan? Each isrnnarcissistic glamour incarnate, all glossrnand no texture, looking so finished as tornbe incapable of further development, hirntheir ine’itable and ridiculous sex scene,rnthey ignore Crown’s bed, rolling aroundrnon his statue-cluttered marble floor asrnthough they were lapidary figiues morerncomfortable with the immutable perfectionrnof stone than with the ungainly givernof a mattress. These people are morernmannequin than hiunan, and this worksrnfor the film. We are meant to see Russornand Brosnan as heartless, intensely selfregardingrncreatures vho are properly atrnhome in the museums and salons of thernManhattan art world. To adapt Pope justrna bit, this is the “moving toyshop of thernheart,” a perfectly artificial stage onrnwhich the trivial and the momentousrnhave become indistinguishable becausernnothing counts—nothing beyond self-interest,rnthat is.rnAnd there’s the crux. Do these pampered,rnempt}’ people liave what it takes tornbecome human? Will they both learnrnthe lesson fully? Will she be able to distinguishrnvalue from its advertisement?rnWill he know intimacv and enjo} it? It’srnnot for me to say.rnWliile this clever entertainment is notrnin the same league with Hitchcockrn(much less Pope), McTiernan and Brosnanrnhave aimed high. If they haven’t hitrntheir target, they’ve come close enoughrnto make a ery enjoyable, even memorablernfilm.rnFor another lesson in the differencernbetween value and its advertisement, wernhave The Blair Witch Project. This ideoshotrnhome movie was pre-sold through arnskillfulK’ constructed internet site, featuringrnan account of witchcraft and murderrnin the woods surrounding Burkittsville,rnMar) land. The film is supposed to be arndocumentar- investigahon conducted byrnthree young people in their 20’s whornbackpaeked into these woods and neerrnreturned. All that’s left is the uneditedrnfilm they made over the course of seeralrndays and nights.rnI went to this movie with moderate!}’rnhigh expectahons. I was looking forwardrnto a horror film that employed suggestionrnand wit, rather than slime and explosions,rnto engage its audience. Well, there’s witrnbehind The Blair Witch Project, but I suspectrnit’s being exercised at our expense.rnThis thought occurred to me duringrnthe second in a series of blank screen sequencesrnlasting two or three minutesrnapiece and feeling more like ten. Therernw as absolutely nothing to watch and littlernmore to hear beyond some supposedlyrnfrightened breathing and the rustle of forestrnundergrowth. We were to understandrnthat the principals — Heather, Mike, andrnJosh —had been awakened in their tentrnb’ something going bump in the nightrnand were doing their frightened best torntape it without the help of camera lights.rnI confess I was shaken . . . with laughter.rnWhat a hoot, I thought. These kids are asrnbold as the tailors who made the emperor’srnnew clothes.rnMy friend Barbara, saw the film withrnher 19-year-old daughter and reports thatrnthe oung lad}’, along with ever}- otherrns’oung person in the theater, was rigidrnwith fear. “I don’t get it,” Barbara said.rn”They’re used to watching people garroted,rnimpaled, blown up, and otherwise inconveniencedrnin other movies. rhe’ justrnsit there laughing their socks off Nowrnthis picture comes along and shows threernkids wandering around some roadsidernwoods within hailing distance of a TacornBell, and my daughter goes catatonic.rnYou’re the film reviewer. Wdiat gives?”rnBlessed if I know, but let me improvise.rnI prefer to believe ifs a good sign.rnMaybe young audiences have overdosedrnon high-tech extravaganzas in whichrnmost of the budget is spent on the specialrneffects that Hollywood views as box-officerninsurance, leaving precious little for literaternscripts, convincing acting, and coherentrnediting. Mavbe the long for storiesrnthat will make them care whether therncharacters retain all their body parts atrnthe fade-out. And maybe this hunger isrnso strong, thex’ve projected their hopesrnonto The Blair Witch Project’s cinemarnrasa.rnWho kno-ws? But there’s no doubtrnthey’re talking in Hollywood’s boardrooms.rn”Look it’s simple. We’re runningrna business, see? Return on investment.rnYou keep your overhead down, your profitsrnup. So why are we dumping millionsrnon Industrial Light and Magic whenrnthese film school nerds are pulling inrngadzillions with a penny-ante videornshoot?”rnBlair Witch U is alreadv in the works.rnOf course, its budget will no doubt zoomrnfrom the original’s $30,000 to the neighborhoodrnof, say, $70 million. Hey, whaddayarngoing to do? Special effects. Gottarnha’e ’em. Insurance, see?rnIf you’ve not done so already, havernyour children take you to see The Iron Giant.rnIf there are no little ones around,rntake yourself This un-Disney cartoonrnfeature, based on poet Ted Hughes’ children’srnbook, is a delight.rnDirector Brad Bird opens his story inrn1957. A mysterious missile whizzesrnthrough the orbit of the recenth’rnlaunched Sputnik and crashes in ruralrnMaine. A 50-foot robot emerges from thernwreckage, having lost his memory butrnnot his appehte for metal, which he gratifiesrnby chomping up every car, tractor,rnand girder in sight of his headlight eyes.rnWhen he makes the mistake of tr}’ing torneat an electrical power station, a boyrnnamed Hogarth cuts the juice, savingrnhim from electrocution and winning hisrnrust-proof gratitude.rnTlie stor}’ has a predictable arc, but everythingrnis done so lovingly that yournwon’t mind. A nasty federal agent wantsrnto destroy the giant, no questions asked.rnHogarth defends his alien friend at gravernrisk to himself and his mother. Thernarmy’s called in for a showdown and . . .rnbut enough said. There’s some sappy anti-rnCold War reasoning here, as you mightrnexpect. In the background. Bird hasrnblack-and-white televisions playing filmsrnreminiscent of 50’s fiivorites such as ThernDay the Earth Stood Still and It CamernFrom Outer Space, sci-fi allegories whichrnwarned America that its Cold War paranoiarnwas more dangerous than any perceivedrnexternal threat. But the stor}’ hasrntoo much charm to hold its fuzzy politiesrnagainst it. Besides, its denouementrnmakes a spectacular ease for the StrategicrnDefense Initiative. And what was goodrnenough for the Gipper is good enoughrnforme.rnGeorge McCartney teaches English at St.rn]ohns University.rn48/CHRONICLESrnrnrn