Bright Side Beams on the Big Screen

When a movie about teen-agers passing a calculus test is a popular success, it is time to check out the alignment of the planets, reports of UFO sightings and the possibility of a secret ingredient in the popcorn.

But “Stand and Deliver” received reviews that were remarkable not only for their enthusiasm but for their gratitude that such a film was made. And it appears to be finding audiences.

Well, so it should or we are all crazy. Edward James Olmos as real-life teacher Jaime Escalante is the Rocky of differential equations, as the critics have said. The story, by Ramon Menendez and Tom Musca, is funny, suspenseful, inspiring and true, and four out of four isn’t bad.

The uplift is fantastic, but the more so because it is rooted not in fantasy but in the facts of what Escalante achieved and continues to achieve, motivating barrio young people to outdo themselves, to pass the national advance placement calculus exam as a ticket to college and to scholarship help.

What you ask yourself is whether “Stand and Deliver,” which was directed by Menendez, is a one-shot freak, an exception to the conventional and cynical wisdom that generally seems to prevail in the film trade.

But then “Dominick and Eugene” arrives, another sensitively directed, beautifully acted, cockle-warming human story, this one about twin brothers, one of whom is retarded as the result of an early childhood trauma.

Danny Porfirio’s original story was evidently inspired by--rather than based upon--some real-life happenings. But as scripted by Alvin Sargent and Corey Blechman, the film has both the cruelty and the sweetness of truth. The real world of Pittsburgh, as of East Los Angeles, is shown to contain elements of nastiness and despair. But set against them, and prevailing, are love and a will to survive.

The climax of “Dominick and Eugene” is melodramatic and cinematic, almost too big for the intimacy of the story. Director Robert M. Young, whose credits include “Short Eyes” and “The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez,” is a storyteller, but he is one who knows that stories originate in character; the ending finally works for being true to character.

Like Olmos’ Jaime Escalante, Tom Hulce’s Nicky is a performance that will go on anybody’s short list of the year’s best and most sensitive work.

Both films are consciously intended as uplifting experiences and are aimed at intelligent audiences but at no particular age group. “Stand and Deliver” is as likely to appeal to parents and teachers as to other calculus-sufferers. The brotherly love that gives fire to “Dominick and Eugene” is universally appealing.

The tyranny of the teens-only pictures that held the movie houses captive for years is apparently crumbling, although this should probably be said in a whisper. But there do indeed seem to be a lot of mature and positive human values floating about.

The Robert Redford-Moctesuma Esparza film “The Milagro Beanfield War” daringly defies the flat-footed literalness of the motion picture and tries to convey the role of mysticism in the life of this remote Latino village.

The dead return to chat awhile and give guidance. The saints respond to urgent requests, even if the voices are unfamiliar. Spirit and flesh do not often mix comfortably in the works of the dream factory (“Heaven Can Wait” was a notable exception). But Redford’s direction has given “Milagro” a kind of folk-tale charm, the more beguiling because it is so obviously good-hearted.

The bad guys are wonderfully bad, the good guys are endearingly good. The right side wins; nobody gets hurt too badly and below the folk-tale charm--not stressed but not denied--are the rocky truths of borderline poverty and despoliations in the name of progress. It is not a vacant fantasy.

Alan Alda has been cuffed about the ears by the critics for trying too hard in “A New Life” not to be a nice guy anymore. The larger trouble is that the film’s particular turf--the work-obsessed husband, the ignored wife, the farcical adjustments to the single state--has been tilled too often in just about the same way.

The irony is that Alda writes sensitively and well about women and the real conflict in the story--the new lady (Veronica Hamel) and her wish for a child before the biological clock stops versus his fear of the responsibilities of a late parenthood--is interesting and relevant.

After too much rhetoric, the conflict is dealt with thoughtfully. Positive, life-affirming values receive yet another endorsement; Mr. Nice Guy reemerges and not a second too soon.