War Games

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

PRIVATE BENJAMIN

Directed by Howard Zieff

Screenplay by Nancy Meyers, Charles Shyer and Harvey Miller

Thank heaven, they kept the tennis pro offscreen. He was Judy Benjamin's first husband, and to judge by the dialogue, he was even less of a prize than any of the other men in her life. These include a second husband, who expires after making love to her on their wedding night (whether as a result of the locale, a bathroom floor, or the effort of overcoming his various hang-ups one cannot be certain); a French doctor who, unlike her other lovers, is dynamite physically, but emotionally selfish; and an Army officer who attempts to assault her when she freezes before her first jump in paratroop training.

The reason Judy Benjamin finds herself in this unlikely situation is that she has joined the Army under the delusion, fostered by a smooth-talking recruiter, that basic training will be something like "six weeks at La Costa." This, she believes, will help her recover from the grief of husband No. 2's death as well as give her the independence and gumption she has not acquired in her life as a certified Jewish American princess. It is hard to believe that a woman of 28, no matter how dippy, would think that yachting is an activity much pursued even in the new new Army, but such mild comedy as the film offers lies in watching a middle-class lady come to terms with the rigors of basic training. Even so, it cannot be said that having the tired old situations of service comedies worked by women instead of men freshens them much.

Curiously enough, Goldie Hawn, who produced the film as a vehicle for herself, does not play the title role with much conviction. One suspects that her energies were devoted more to launching a project than to acting a part. Or it may be that she is really too smart to play convincingly the neurotic ninny of the film's early reels. In any case, she appears to be less eager to be funny than she is to make a point, namely that men tend to be sexually exploitative, and crudely and rudely so. About all Private Benjamin adds to An Unmarried Woman, which made the definitively dumb statement about male piggery, is a Continental fillip. That French doctor, played rather sleepily by Armand Assante, starts out acting like a Gallic Alan Bates, sexy in a sweet and sympathetic way, but unlike Bates in the earlier film, he turns out to be no improvement on the Yanks. The revelation that bad guys are not an exclusively American product is hardly worth the time it takes to make it.

Perhaps the best thing about this film is the cast list, which includes such good people as Eileen Brennan, Barbara Barrie, Robert Webber, Albert Brooks and Harry Dean Stanton. Among the bad things is its failure to give any of them anything worthwhile to do. Brennan, one of the screen's master muggers, puts up a good fight against the odds. Everyone else very sensibly stays low in the foxholes.

-- By Richard Schickel

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