Darryl Amato

Somebody was inspired by Stephen King. That somebody would be Josh Ruben who wrote, directed, co-produced and stars in "Scare Me." During a stormy night that causes a power outage, two horror writers decide to tell each other scary stories. The challenge becomes a competition. He (Ruben) has rented a cabin in the woods to hopefully work on his writings. She (Aya Cash) is a successful novelist. In the telling, some of the descriptions "seem" to come alive! The mood set by the lighting (or lack thereof) and the animated gestures and facial expressions of the two characters create the thrills, all on a PG-13 level. Keep watching after the primary closing credits because there is a startling denouement.

A day-in-the-life of car wash attendants may not sound like promising entertainment, yet this assemblage of comic workers and customers sing, dance and joke in a "M*A*S*H"-style of overlapping dialogue and elaborate pranks. This motley crew also have their various relationship problems resulting in serious overtones and social observations. It's an expertly edited chain of wacky events. It's not a musical, but the car wash radio sound system blasts funky rhythms almost continuously. Rolls Royce's title track is in the background regularly, as is their seductive "I Wanna Get Next to You." The Pointer Sisters perform "You Gotta Believe."

"Renaissance Man" boasts Danny Devito's most likable role in a most likable movie. It you enjoy the familial, emotional approach of director Penny Marshall, you've got it here. Bill Rago (DeVito) reluctantly accepts an English teaching position on an Army training base. Given his 70s anti-war sentiment and indifferent attitude about teaching (he has no degree, just work experience as an ad man), you know the laugh set-ups and character conflicts before they happen. They are fun and funny just the same. Rago's motley class comes through eventually. We get "Dead Poets Society" in fatigues. Gregory Hines has the thankless job of playing the no-frills drill instructor, a by-the-book Army bully. He detests Rago's emphasis on literary appreciation. Mark Whalberg in 1994 was the rapper formally known as Marky Mark. He is surprisingly impressive as one of the resistant Privates. Mark composed the rap you will hear.

Hanna-Barbera's Flintstones were always just an animated version of "The Honeymooners." Fred and Barney are the cartoon foils of Jackie Gleason and Art Carney. Both sets of guys had their marital foibles, manual labor duties, and were members of men's organizations. A live-action rendering with John Goodman as Fred and Rick Moranis as his sidekick Barney is just a situation comedy reverting back to its roots. Goodman and Moranis even imitate the comic styling of Gleason and Carney. Rosie O'Donnell has that Betty Rubble giggle. Elizabeth Perkins seems too young as Fred's wife. The real stars of this movie are the Jim Henson puppets, the scenic design and the set decorations. Bedrock comes alive in all its colorful stone-aged suburban structures, including RocDonald's fast food. The Slate Company in the rock quarry is splendidly built. The little castle homes are outlandishly fabulous, complete with lively Dino the dinosaur pet and a burping garbage disposal. You can count on the original Flintstones theme at beginning and end for that all-important nostalgic appeal. Plot? What plot? It's enough to fill a hour-hour cartoon episode, yet this extravaganza is an hour and a half. The bulk of it is sight gags and sounds. A sequel would be in line, going beyond the sets and moving into situations. Letting the children Peebles and Bam-Bam grow into teens might have been good fodder for the next installment. Hey, how about securing Ann-Margret to play Ann-Margrock. Sadly, that did not transpire. A prequel, 'Viva Rock Vegas' showed up in 2000 starring a different cast. Ann-Margret sang the theme song!

"Hair" the 1979 movie is a resurgence of the anti-war, anti-establishment spirit of "Hair" the 1967 play. More than that the musical is streamlined to place on emphasis on a cosmic narrative on friendship and love. The cinematography opens in an expansive Oklahoma landscape that seems to defy the corners of the screen. A clean-cut cowboy-farmer is on a bus trip to New York City where he will enlist in the army. Before that happens he will be befriended by a band of Central Park hippies. The songs are retained. Melba Moore cants "Aquarius" as the camera whirlwinds around her. Cheryl Barnes asks "How can people be so heartless." Others in the troupe belt out the title tune and "I Got Life," "Good Morning Starshine,"Let the Sun Shine In." Twyla Tharp's choreography twirls.

If "Looking for Mr. Goodbar" moved any faster it would be over before it began! The scenes, some flashbacks, others present time, still others daydreams, are relentlessly reeled across the viewer's hopefully unblinking eyes. Diane Keaton wields all her acting qualities like they have never been vindicated before. With Diana Ross singing "I don't need no cure" on the soundtrack, Keaton becomes Terry, the daytime special ed teacher who recklessly cruises singles' bars at night. The theme could leave you numb, but it remains a fascinating case study. Terry encounters guys as emotionally torrid and torn as herself. Richard Gere is a bad Vietnam vet. Tom Berenger is a bad pickup. Alan Feinstein is an older, married college professor who leaves Terry emotionally disfigured early on. The climax is horrific and abrupt, leaving us with a bitter aftertaste. But that's the style of filmmaker Richard Brooks, who gave us "In Cold Blood," "Elmer Gantry" and "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."

More than a story of lost innocence (most of the characters have already lost their innocence), this is a eulogy for a small Texas town in the 1950s. Peter Bogdanovich directed "The Last Picture Show" in refreshing black and white, fashioning a masterwork out of a bleak, sad anecdote of entangled relations. Timothy Bottoms as Sonny is tired of his steady girl who won't go beyond removing her bra. Cloris Leachman puts on a stone face in front of a sensitive heart as the high school coach's bored, neglected wife. She's clinging to an affair with young Sonny. Sonny's buddy Duane (Jeff Bridges) is dating the prettiest, richest girl in town - Jacy (Cybill Shepard). Veteran western character actor Ben Johnson plays Sam the Lion, a stalwart of the community, owner of the town's cafe, pool hall and movie house. The local cinema closing (due to the birth of television) is a metaphor for the slow, painful death of the entire village. Some specific brilliant scenes: - Sonny's talks with Sam. - The scrawny waitress (Eileen Breenan) dishing out loving kindness with the hamburgers. - Jacy's mother's confession of love for Sam.

From tryouts to freshman year through graduation, students at the New York City High School of Performing Arts struggle through music, drama, dance and English courses. In their personal lives, some cope with poverty, ignorance, violence, insecurity or sexuality. Played by a cast of newcomers, the characters are often compressed into "types." There's the black youth who can dance but cannot read. A shy Jewish girl is pushed on stage by a domineering mother. A sensitive actor is gay but not very happy. A Puerto Rican wants to be a stand-up comic, in the vein of his hero the late Freddie Prinze. A ballerina can't work up a sweat in her class. In drama, each student draws on a real painful past experience. The English teacher stresses academic subjects are just as important as vocational aspirations. "Fame" thrusts its way into our favor through sheer vitality and winning editing. The story falters when it leaves the school building. Coco (Irene Cara) is an astute singer/composer who is inexplicably gullible when a rangy man promises stardom. She willingly enters the man's dingy apartment. Ms. Cara is luminous and could visually and vocally pass as a teenage Donna Summer. Her "Hot Lunch Jam" and the title song are gleeful. Paul McCrane's solos on "Dogs in the Yard" and "Is It Okay If I Call You Mine" are calm, conciliatory ballads.

Jill Clayburgh is the woman of the title. She is as personable as a screen character can get, Comparable to what Ellen Burstyn did with "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore." The couple that jogs, makes morning love, and eats lunch together does not necessarily stay together. Upon her husband's confessed love for another woman, Jill as Erica walks away in a half-coma, hurt, confused, empty-hearted. All this is expressed in her face and body movements. She goes through a lengthy anguish and visits to a psychiatrist. The therapist scenes are almost always director Paul Mazursky's method. Remember this is the guy who made "Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice." Going through a period of adjustment with her teen daughter, Erica achieves a redemption of self-worth and emotional independence. And then, bam, a new man comes along. Even though artist Alan Bates is so romantic and good for her, is she ready to be a part of a couple again? The sooner you see "An Unmarried Woman," the sooner you will know and feel enriched.