Scene of the Crime

THERE'S AN OLD cinematic recipe for directors of suspense films: Mix quirky but endearing characters. Add love story and dash of intrigue. Garnish with slam-bang conclusion in odd place, i.e., merry-go-round, theater, Mount Rush-more. Alfred Hitchock, the master of such concoctions, entranced audiences with well-developed characters and more than the usual quota of suspense. He involved audiences in his mysteries, by sharing the guilt of the crimes: they knew where the gun was hidden, who was the double spy.

Eyewitness flops as a suspense story, but manages to intrigue with its mix of characters, quirky, offbeat and enjoyable. Writer Steve Tesich and director Peter Yates, the Breaking Away team, transplant their cornfed eccentricities onto the mean streets of New York City. The characters in Breaking Away enchanted with their resilient innocence, their wholesomeness resting naturally in the heart of Indiana. In New York City, the wholesomeness vanishes; the friendly idiosyn-cracies become fatal flaws.

Darryll Deever (William Hurt), a young Vietnam Veteran, works as a janitor and dreams of meeting Tony Sokolow (Sigouney Weaver), a beautiful television reporter. When a man is murdered, Deever pretends to know more than he does--to attract Tony. He discovers that his innocent lies attract more than the reporter: the killers want him; the victim's cohorts want him; the police want him and Tony Sokolow only wants the story.

Like Hitchcock, writer Tesich sees potential harm in the most innocent quirks. The background of New York City embellishes that sense of menace. Deever's preoccupation with Tony Sokolow throws him headlong into the midst of an international plot involving the murdered man, (ominously named "Mr. Long") and a group of wealthy Zionists. Unlike the innocent obsessions in Breaking Away, Deever's are misconstrued, then used as bait against him. The pace of the city brings about an urgency and neurosis which transforms even the simplest of actions, like playing with a dog, with an air of danger. Peter Yate's direction, with quick cuts and short clips, adds to the undertone of sickness.

TESICH AND YATES seem to have forgotten the essential ingredient for a suspense story: suspense. A few things go bump in the night, but not enough. The intrigue eventually becomes less interesting than the story of Darryl Deever and the other well-layered characters who populate Eyewitness. In one particularly amusing scene, Darryl's girlfriend (who punctuates every other word with a "you know") confesses to Darryl that she does not love him. Suddenly enlightened, they stammer at each other: "I've never loved you." "I've never loved you, either." The international intrigue can't match the smaller, and better conceived, aspects of the plot.

Through it all, Darryl Deever remains the babe in the woods. His eccentricities may bring about murder and the usual spy-in-the-closet plotting, but Hurt imbues Deever with such innocence and reasonableness, that the audience never doubts his safety: the guy is blessed. Deever is the Capraesque everyman--pleasant, rational, potentially powerful and good.

Weaver, on the other hand, seems indifferent to her role as Tony Sokolow. The spunk and verve with which she approached her character in Alien freezes this time. Unfortunately, that seems to be a problem typical of "love interests": she never becomes more than a foil for Deever.

Eyewitness is saved by some appealing characters--Deever, his father, his girlfriend. Tony Sokolow says to Deever at one point: "You just come right out and say the corniest things." Deever responds, "I meant it." With these characters, the audience believes anything--even if the meal winds up a little half-baked.