I AM SAM

Blockbuster scripts are increasingly churned out by writing teams with scant regard to real life.

Hariette Surovell, Filmtwentyfourseven's New York City correspondent, has had enough...

To achieve the suspension of disbelief, a film must be accurate in its depictions of reality.

In Sidewalks of New York, Heather Graham plays a recent Yale University graduate who works as a real-estate agent. Why is this brilliant, young, ambitious Ivy-Leaguer selling lofts? Simply because it is convenient to Ed Burns' "plot".

In Kate and Leopold I was content to accept that Liev Schrieber brought Hugh Jackman from another century by jumping through a hole in the atmosphere. What I couldn't tumble for was Jackman seamlessly adapting to his new environment in two days.

Meg Ryan plays Jackman's love-interest Kate McKay. Yet the gorgeous "babelicious" blonde plays a pants-wearing "tomboy" who has no sense of her own sexuality and attractiveness to men.

An executive in advertising (Because in contemporary films, the "A" professions predominate, ie. advertising, architecture and art galleries), Kate has nonetheless not left the island of Manhattan in TEN YEARS. Never taken a business trip?

Kate also makes the kinds of commercials (Jackman stars in one) which have not been seen since men used Burma Shave.

As maladroit at cooking as she is at flirting, Kate explains that her own culinarily-impaired mother fed her "Erin Brokovich" fare - frozen fish-sticks, canned ravioli. Unconvincingly, she then reminisces about how a Mom who could barely boil water baked the subtle, elegant "scone" in a bizarre tribute to Princess Di.

Sam raises a baby daughter with the help of good-hearted fellow retardates (the appellation used by Dr. Anna Strauss in the 1968 classic, Charly) - they may lack I.Q. points, but they unerringly determine countless ethical and even pragmatic decisions. These surrogate retardads also go bowling and watch videos (Charly?).

The gratuitous all-Beatles soundtrack unsubtlely reminds us that "all you need is love" - but the predictably vicious authorities wish to place daughter Sam in a home where her parents can run an espresso machine without creating an explosion.

Then in one of the phoniest plot turns ever, Michelle Pfeiffer takes on Penn's case Pro Bonosimply to impress her colleagues.

At the custody trial, Penn's posse interrupts the judge by singing (what else) a Beatles song. Is the audience really expected to accept the fact that they are not summarily banished to the nearest bowling-alley?