Fictional `Silent Cries' Resurrects Horror Of War

"Silent Cries," "NBC Monday Night Movie," 9 p.m., Channel 5. --------------------------------------------------------------- Anyone who remembers the suspenseful drama and humanity of "A Town Like Alice," one of "Masterpiece Theatre's finer offerings, will find much to admire in NBC's "Silent Cries." That harrowing drama chronicled the burdens and crises shared by a diverse group of women captured by the Japanese and held prisoner through most of World War II.

Although fictional, "Silent Cries," which is based on a novel ("Guests of the Emperor") by Janice Young Brooks, hews closely to the memoirs written by women who survived the tortures of such camps.

Thus, much of what transpires in "Silent Cries," will not come as a surprise: the sadistic Japanese officer in charge, his more humane superior, the diversity of the women thrown together by fate, from those who are stoic and learn to cope, indeed grow stronger through adversity, to those who simply fell apart, to those whose heroic actions sometimes brought death.

But what makes the script work (by Vicki Patik and Walter Halsey Davis, who won an Emmy for their memorable script about a woman afflicted with Alzheimer's, "Do You Remember Love?") is a collection of fine performances, under the direction of Anthony Page.

Heading the cast is Gena Rowlands, who plays an American author of books critical of Japanese expansion and whose presence in the prison camp could lead to retaliation for all concerned by their Japanese captors. A flighty British mother and her somewhat rebellious daughter are portrayed by Gail Strickland and Annabeth Gish whom we first meet in Singapore early in 1942 when the British colonials tended not to take the Japanese entrance into World War II seriously.

Another interesting duo is played by Judy Parfitt and Cherie Lunghi - the former finds herself in a prison camp with the woman who stole her husband, a bitter pill made even more so by the fact the character played by Lunghi is pregnant. Chloe Webb and Phyllis Logan also star, with Clyde Kusatsu portraying Saigo, the sadistic officer in charge of the women, while Sab Shimono portrays the more humane commandant who is Saigo's superior.

One of the pleasures of the multi-part "A Town Like Alice" was that there was sufficient time to fully explore the personalities of the women. There's a great deal going on in "Silent Cries" - indeed there seems to be a new crisis about every two minutes - but this emphasis upon action is sometimes achieved at the expense of character.

Brooks created an interesting collection of women to place in jeopardy, but by having to condense her novel into under two hours, too many of them become little more than familiar stereotypes. Having a good cast to portray them turns out to be the film's saving grace.

`Welkome' back --------------------------------------------------------------- "From the Heart: Lawrence Welk and the American Dream," 7 p.m. Sunday, Channel 9. --------------------------------------------------------------- Considering that public TV has been replaying Lawrence Welk's old ABC shows continuously the past few years, who better to mount and show a tribute to the popular polkameister?

This is a slickly-packaged music special from PBS that combines a biographical look at Welk's career, offers a good deal of the sort of music Welk's fans loved, most of it performed by alumni from the Welk show, and manages to do a lot of flag-waving about the American dream, as epitomized by Welk, as well.

It's all painless and should delight Welk fans, even though this is one of those PBS specials with built-in pledge breaks - it seems as if the program stops after every three numbers to urge viewers to contribute.

Barbara Mandrell is the effervescent host - she once did a guest stint on Welk's show - but the real treat for Welk fans, in addition to the photos from Welk's career and clips of musical highlights from past shows, will be to see what former Welk stars look like today.

Who needs it? --------------------------------------------------------------- "Jane Pratt," Mondays through Fridays, 5 p.m., Lifetime. --------------------------------------------------------------- The fact that the LAST thing America needs more of are talk shows did not deter Lifetime from premiering "Jane Pratt" last week, a five-times-a-week talk show hosted by Pratt, touted as the editor of Sassy magazine.

She is less than sassy on TV, although she doesn't seem out of place in a world populated by Oprah, Phil, Sally, Montel, Jenny, Geraldo, Joan, Vicki, Jerry, Sonya, Larry, Rush, Charlie and another Jane - Jane Whitney, who works out of Boston and is a Phil Donahue clone.

Once children grew up dreaming of becoming rock stars; then it was wanting to do stand-up comedy. Now the career goal seems to be having your own talk show, under the mistaken belief that anyone can do it. Right now it sees anyone CAN do it.

Jane's new show is just like all the others: Find the most outrageous topic possible, bring in a variety of people who (or may not) in some remote way be connected to that topic, fill the audience with assorted weirdos who appear to have nothing better to do than ask stupid questions and/or make inane observations, place someone in charge whose chief qualification seems to be the ability to dart about with a microphone, and presto! Voila! A Talk Show!

Talk shows, in general, started to get new respect last fall when they became the favorite venue of political candidates who often found the questions from the audience and phoned-in by viewers to be more to their liking than questions from journalists. And, indeed, the more informal atmosphere of talk shows often gave us a better indication of what a candidate was really like than a more formal press conference of "photo op."

For a while, talk shows were worth tuning in - you didn't know who might turns up as a guest. Now, alas, talk shows in general seem to have returned to their old ways - which is another way of saying they prefer to talk about sex.

Even the top-of-the-line hosts seem to be slipping. Phil has never seemed sillier than when he was ineffectually trying to be funnier than Dame Edna on a recent show, while Oprah's sycophantic hysteria over her vacuous Michael Jackson interview was embarrassing for all concerned.

Jane Pratt is, as yet, just your average, garden-variety talk-show host, neither terribly good nor terribly awful. But if I were her, I wouldn't give up my day job.