
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SATURDAY, October 22, 1994                   TAG: 9411160080
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 12   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: MIKE MAYO CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

`RADIOLAND MURDERS' HAS THE WRONG FREQUENCY

"Radioland Murders" is a complete disaster; the kind of movie that people walk out on. At one Friday matinee, only about half the audience made it all the way to the closing credits.

Who could blame them? This is a big-budget comedy that leaves a large cast stranded without a single giggle. Waves of pointless action are hurled across the screen at a hysterical pace. From the opening moments, it's all so frantic that there is no reason to care about the characters or to laugh at their situation.

The setting is Chicago, 1939. From its studio in a skyscraper, WBN is about to begin its first night of broadcasting without any finished scripts or clear direction. The station's owner (Ned Beatty) has invited a bunch of potential affiliates while his main writer (Brian Benben) and top executive (Mary Stuart Masterton) are in the middle of a divorce. Seems that she caught him with the station's torch singer (Anita Morris).

Meanwhile, the writers (Bobcat Goldwaithe, Harvey Korman, Peter MacNicol, Robert Klein and Ann DeSalvo) are about to go on strike; the announcer (Corbin Bernsen) is being slick; the band leader (Michael McKean) tries out different sounds; the sponsor (Brion James) isn't laughing; the sound-effects man (Christopher Lloyd) is picking up the slack; the director (Jeffrey Tambor) is fooling around with the aforementioned torch singer; the station manager (Larry Miller) is jealous; and when they start being murdered, the police detective (Michael Lerner) is called in.

It's all less fun than it sounds, even when George Burns and Rosemary Clooney show up.

Most of the comedy is meant to come from sight gags - people slipping on slick floors, dangling from high places, etc. - that are punctuated by snippets of big band parodies from Spike Jones to Glenn Miller. Since the story never moves out of the building, there is no real feeling for period details. The result is more irritating than funny.

That's odd because British director Mel Smith handled similar material so well in "The Tall Guy," one of the funniest sleepers in the video store. Despite his successes in other areas, producer George Lucas, who also came up with the story, has never been known for comedy. If he and his four writers meant this one to have the appeal of "American Graffiti," they made a serious mistake.

So much frantic action is piled onto such a flimsy frame that "Radioland Murders" is meaningless. A major disappointment.

Radioland Murders:

turkey

A Universal release playing at the Valley View Mall 6. 112 min. Rated PG for fleeting nudity, subject matter.

by CNB