TWO NEW FILMS FRUSTRATINGLY OFF MARK : Movie Version of ‘Memoirs’ Buries Charm and Honesty of Neil Simon’s Stage Play

Buried inside the movie of Neil Simon’s semi-autobiographical play “Brighton Beach Memoirs” (selected theaters) is a tender, sharp-eyed reminiscence of Brooklyn adolescence: of family squabbles, brotherly bonds, the crises of raging puberty. It’s something recognizably Simon’s, but more touching than usual.

Unfortunately, in the movie it mostly stays buried--or at least lacquered. “Brighton Beach Memoirs” may be one of Simon’s best plays, but the film’s heart seems to be beating in a plastic wrapper. There’s a kind of glace over everything, a sugary show-biz coat that dulls your taste buds. Everything is bigger, brighter and broader than it should be--though remnants of that simpler, more honest story often peek through.

Both play and film introduce us to Eugene Jerome (Jonathan Silverman), 15-year-old would-be Yankee pitcher and full-time smarty-pants. Eugene comes from a charming but troubled and contentious lower-middle-class Jewish family. He will, we guess, grow up into Gene Jerome, wildly successful playwright, with parallel-continuum credits that include “Come Swing With Me,” “Shoes Off in Central,””The Peculiar Pair,” “Regency Suite,” “The Farewell Floozy” and, of course, his crowning achievement, “I Remember Brooklyn.”

Can we spot seeds of greatness in young Eugene? Not from his pitching form. Not from his lamentable activities as a Peeping Tom and dinner-table voyeur. But there’s one clue: One-liners drop from this youngster’s lips like drool from a drunk’s. Just walking down 4th Street to Greenblatt’s Delicatessen provokes an orgy of zingers.

The story is set in Brighton Beach, in the years just preceding World War II. What Eugene observes, and comments on, is his own rite of passage, his coming of age as son, brother, onanist and jokester. That’s the appeal of the play. Though what we see is often disturbing or poignant, Eugene’s gags are a filter--and the tight family traditions of the past a comfort. All of this had a purpose. (It produced Eugene!) Simon adroitly evokes the bickering back-and-forth of large households, and he catches wonderfully the mentor-pupil relationship of the Jerome brothers, Eugene and Stanley (Brian Drillinger).

Even so, director Gene Saks doesn’t exploit the intimacy of the movies enough. Most of the performances here look unspontaneous, too worked over--as if the actors had set them in brass and were waiting for the laughs.

Blythe Danner, usually a wasted resource, is a strangely misused one here. Can we really accept this feisty colleen as Eugene’s yiddische mama ? (It’s like a reversal of Norman Mailer’s fantasy of being black Irish.) As the brothers, Silverman and Drillinger always connect; Drillinger is better, but Silverman, who has the best lines, makes a bigger impression. But the only two really superb acting jobs are by Judith Ivey, as Eugene’s sweetly self-centered Aunt Blanche, and Steven Hill as Stanley’s bilious boss, Stroheim.

Saks won a Tony for his direction of “Brighton Beach” on Broadway, so perhaps he simply didn’t rethink the material enough. (Maybe Simon didn’t either.) Both of them should have realized what kind of movie potential the story had, and how little they’ve done with camera, setting or ensemble to achieve it.

The ‘30s Brooklyn settings are meticulously re-created, and glowingly shot by John Bailey, but the breath of life never passes through them; the movie lacks a pulse. In a way, “Brighton Beach Memoirs” (PG-13) is Simon’s “Annie Hall” (it’s hard to believe he didn’t have a bit of a Woodypus Complex when he started it up). But, however beautifully realized it may have been as a play, the movie memoir stays somehow bright and beached. Unlike Allen’s meshuggeneh mementos, this one snickers more than it soars.

‘BRIGHTON BEACH MEMOIRS’

A Universal release of a Rastar production. Producer Ray Stark. Director Gene Saks. Script Neil Simon. Executive producer David Chasman. Camera John Bailey. Music Michael Small. Editor Carol Littleton. Production design Stuart Wurtzel. With Blythe Danner, Bob Dishy, Jonathan Silverman, Brian Drillinger, Stacey Glick, Judith Ivey, Lisa Waltz.

Running time: 1 hour, 48 minutes.

MPAA rating: PG-13 (parents are strongly cautioned; some material may be inappropriate for children under 13).