Funny, The Laughs In `True Crime' Aren't Always Intentional

MOVIE REVIEW

X "True Crime," with Alicia Silverstone, Kevin Dillon, Bill Nunn. Written and directed by Pat Verducci. Everett Mall, Lewis & Clark, Newmark, SeaTac Mall. "R" - Restricted because of language, mild violence, sexual situation. --------------------------------------

Like most movies that don't know how funny they are, "True Crime" is at its best when at its worst.

And, since first-time writer-director Pat Verducci is constantly striking the pose of cinematic sincerity, the proceedings often become downright hilarious, however unintentionally. Whenever it tries to get serious, "True Crime" reveals its flaws.

Alicia Silverstone plays Mary, a high-school senior obsessed with crime magazines and vicarious sleuthing. She's particularly interested in the case of a serial killer brutally murdering teenage girls, most recently in Mary's own town. Determined to catch the killer, she defies the local police chief (Bill Nunn), a friend of her late father, a cop killed in the line of duty.

Although she initially thinks him a suspect, Mary soon gets involved - romantically and professionally - with a roguish young rookie named Tony (Kevin Dillon). She gets in over her head in a situation where nothing is what it seems, and where the mutual attraction/repulsion factor, to men and to danger, kicks into high gear.

Dillon is superficial, mannered and just plain bad. As for Silverstone, the role of Mary might have afforded her an opportunity to further explore the talents she hinted at in "The Crush." To play a religious high-school senior (from a Catholic school, no less) who is confronted with the danger of new sexuality might have proved an interesting challenge for a gifted young actress.

It has before. Nicolas Roeg's "Walkabout" and Neil Jordan's "The Company of Wolves" compellingly treated the traumas of budding female sexuality in the face of danger. But "Crime," written and directed by a woman, is so laughable for most of its length that the jarring intensity of the sex scene seems not only out of place but entirely inappropriate, and very hard to watch. Silverstone only winds up looking ridiculous and far too young to be credible.

The scenario's absurdity extends to all aspects of the filmmaking, from the high camp dialogue to the low-grade synthesizer score. If the film had any hope of gaining an audience, lines like "Every time you meet a guy you start talking about the five kinds of head wounds" might be destined for ironic immortality.

As it stands, though, "Crime" presents a world of cliche and manufactured tension, where naming a Catholic character Mary qualifies as symbolism, and where plot twists are synonymous with audience deception. The laughs fly fast and furious. If only it were a comedy.