Monday, Jan. 31, 1994

Out of Touch

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

Intersection is -- earnestly, self-consciously -- a movie for grown-ups. It is made by veteran adults (director Mark Rydell; writers Marshall Brickman and David Rayfiel). It takes up a "mature" (if not exactly original) theme, that of a man torn between the responsibilities of marriage and the delights of a young mistress. It comes to an ending that is both tragic and neatly ironic. And it is a movie that does not for one minute draw you into its life, make you believe in its reality.

Instead, it creates the curious impression that its actors worked against a blue screen projecting handsome views of a nameless Pacific Northwest city (actually Vancouver) and glamorous life-styles. They never seem to be in touch with their environment, their ostensible professions or, for that matter, one another.

Richard Gere, playing an architect, doesn't act as if he could read a blueprint, much less draw one up. He's also supposed to be a loving father, but the scenes with his daughter are played as if he fears a charge of child molestation. His wife is meant to be a frigid businesswoman, but you can practically hear Sharon Stone's joints pop as she attempts the stretch. The other woman (Lolita Davidovich) is said to be a witty journalist, but looks as if she might need help booting up her word processor.

It's not important, really -- just another banal triangle. Though based on a 1969 French film, Les Choses de la Vie, Intersection made at least one viewer think of Blue, the 1993 French movie that's also about infidelity and life's sad ironies. There was a felt reality in the intimacy of Blue's textures, and its elliptical style kept the eye puzzled and alert. Not for the first time one wonders why American moviemakers can't get the hang of, the fun of, the higher trivia.