And so I find myself liking John McKay's Crush , from his own screenplay, possibly more than I should. The big problem for most critics with this movie is Andie MacDowell. She has been making critics angry ever since her performance as Ann in Steven Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape (1989), in which all the sympathy went to Laura San Giacomo's Cynthia, who is sleeping with Ann's husband even though they are sisters. In Mike Newell's Four Weddings and a Funeral , Ms. MacDowell not only took the Hugh Grant character away from Kristin Scott Thomas and Anna Chancellor, she also casually and amusedly enumerated all her previous affairs in the process. Ms. MacDowell projects a sheltered existence while at the same time flashing the kind of beauty that screams entitlement. She has never played a loser in the game of love; indeed, she'd probably break up her best friend's wedding without working up a sweat. Critics seem unwilling to forgive her for this romantic armor. So naturally I have taken up her cause as the female Rob Lowe, who needed The West Wing to prove that he was not a gorgeous joke.

In Crush , Ms. MacDowell, Imelda Staunton and Ms. Chancellor play a convivial trio of 40-ish career women willingly buried in the low-key, small-scale and hilly-nilly English Cotswolds, where everyone knows everyone else's business. Ms. MacDowell is Kate, a school headmistress; Ms. Staunton is Janine, a policewoman; and Ms. Chancellor is Molly, an overqualified physician. They love to debauch themselves on wine and chocolates as they gossip about their neighbors and reveal their own disastrous encounters with men, having wasted their 20's and 30's on an assortment of one-night stands and failed marriages.

Then, suddenly, Cupid's arrow strikes Kate as she trades amorous glances with a 25-year-old former student named Jed (Kenny Doughty). A leisurely camera movement across foliage reveals Kate and Jed in flagrante delicto in the first of many trysts. When Janine and Molly learn that Kate's infatuation is growing into a full-fledged love affair, Janine takes it in stride, but Molly goes ballistic and manages maliciously-though in the end inadvertently-to precipitate a disastrous end to the affair.

Somehow, the three women manage to reunite after a temporary rupture, and this is what the critics seem to hate most of all about the film. Yet when I think about Crush in terms of conceptual consistency, there could have been no other ending. This is a film primarily about three women and how they sustain each other through the coming crisis of old age, which is staring at them from their respective mirrors. This is a crisis in which Jed-lovable and hunky as he turns out to be-can not long participate. Dave Kehr of The New York Times cited Douglas Sirk's All That Heaven Allows (1955), with Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson, as a parallel for the Kate-Jed romance. I would suggest instead Vincent Sherman and John Van Druten's Old Acquaintance (1943), the last scene of which shows the hitherto-bickering Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins preparing to spend the rest of their lives together.

Oh God, how I love the old chick flicks! And some of the new ones, like Crush , aren't that bad either.

There's also Charles Herman-Wurmfeld's Kissing Jessica Stein , from a screenplay by the film's two leads, Jennifer Westfeldt and Heather Juergensen, which has been generally dismissed and demeaned as a lightweight lesbian romance-but a closer look at its comic contours reveals the dimensions of a classic screwball comedy from pre–World War II Hollywood, but without the conformist strictures of the old Production Code.

The old Hollywood heroines, after all, would never have even considered kissing another woman on the lips. Jessica (Ms. Westfeldt) and Helen (Ms. Juergensen) are made of sterner stuff, though both remain technically bisexual, and the "happy ending" for Jessica comes in the form of a previously rejected boyfriend, Josh (Scott Cohen).

What makes the film break the relatively new gay-film formula is the wit and charm of the two actresses, who have written themselves some sparkling lines, such as designating James Woods and Mick Jagger as "sexy-ugly" and having Helen describe Jessica to a friend as a "Jewish Sandra Dee." Truth to tell, if you find Ms. Westfeldt's Jessica too ditzy for your taste, you won't find the goings-on very interesting. I happened to see the movie after the negative reviews came out, and I was surprised to find myself likening Ms. Westfeldt to a cross between Jean Arthur and Diane Keaton, and Ms. Juergensen to a sultrier brunette in the "other woman" tradition. Also true to form, Helen is always pressuring a reluctant Jessica to "go all the way" after their first kiss.

This is the way that gay subject matter has been domesticated, at least in the restricted zones of art-house cinema and cable-television programs like Sex and the City and Six Feet Under . In a kind of throw-away joke near the end of Crush , Ms. Chancellor's Molly publicly and audaciously kisses another woman on the lips, who promptly kisses her back.

In the movies, all comedy is hard-and romantic comedy is even harder. By ending the demonization of lesbianism, today's pushing-the-envelope filmmakers have added a new wild card to the deck. But it will take more than mere broad-mindedness to create vibrant comedy.

Argentina's Native Son

Juan José Campanella's Son of the Bride was last year's Argentine Academy Award nominee for Best Foreign Language Film. It evolves as the quintessential male-midlife-crisis movie as it follows 42-year-old Rafael Belvedere (Ricardo Darín) while he operates the highly successful but time-consuming restaurant his father Nino (Héctor Alterio) founded. Despite his success, Rafael continues to live in the shadow of his unimpressed father. Rafael seldom visits his mother (Norma Aleandro), who was similarly unappreciative-even before she succumbed to Alzheimer's. Even Rafael's ex-wife finds reason to resent him, because he has neglected their daughter. Finally, Rafael's beautiful girlfriend Naty (Natalie Verbeke) is unable to break through his shell of self-involvement to obtain a long-term commitment.

Then, suddenly, a minor heart attack forces Rafael to slow down and smell the roses. He sells the restaurant and is reunited with a childhood friend, Juan Carlos (Eduardo Blanco), who has survived a much greater personal tragedy, and who thereafter functions as a clownish poltergeist.

When Rafael's hitherto anti-clerical father decides to remarry his ailing wife in a church, as she had always dreamed of doing, Rafael clears away the formidable obstacles to such a sanctification, and in so doing mends his own personal relationships.

This is a sweet film, one not without a certain emotional intelligence and fleeting bursts of wit and humor. The only problem is an overloaded plot that makes the breakdowns in Rafael's relationships seem beyond repair in a 24-hour-a-day existence. Yet the cast alone makes all the difference in retaining the film's credibility.

Sister Act

Lieven Debrauwer's Pauline and Paulette , from a screenplay by Mr. Debrauwer and Jacques Boon, is a Belgian gem on the twilight existence of four sisters of a certain age drawn together reluctantly by the need to care for one of their number: the mentally retarded Pauline (Dora van der Groen), who lives with Martha in a small town near Brussels, but adores Paulette (Ann Petersen) who operates a fabric shop in town and plays the plump lead in an operetta, her life's dream.

When Martha suffers a fatal heart attack, the problem of caring for Pauline is thrust upon the equally reluctant Paulette and the Brussels-based younger sister, Cecile (Rosemarie Bergmans). Martha's will stipulates that Pauline must be cared for by one of her two surviving sisters, or the considerable money from the sale of Martha's house will go directly for Pauline's care in an institution.

This is the kind of movie that is mired for a long time in the embarrassments of mental retardation. Yet Paulette and Cecile are not monsters-they try their best to cope in turn with Pauline's streaks of stubborn self-absorption. But then a miracle occurs in an epiphany of sisterly love, and the film ends with an emotionally shattering tableau of two sisters sharing a view of the Belgian coast and the birds flying around it. The acting is superb, and the mise en scène is enlivened by obsessive colors and floral arrangements.

Dorothy McGuire: Underrated Till The End

Dorothy McGuire (1918-2001) was the most underrated actress in Hollywood in the 40's and 50's, and the injustice continued into this year's Oscars, which omitted her from the "in memoriam" montage. Here are my 10 favorite McGuire performances:

1. The Spiral Staircase (1946)

2. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945)

3. The Enchanted Cottage (1945)

4. Claudia (1943)

5. Friendly Persuasion (1956)

6. The Dark at the Top of the Stairs (1960)

7. Mister 880 (1950)

8. Gentleman's Agreement (1947)

9. Invitation (1952)

10. Till the End of Time (1946)

New feminist trend? We've noticed lately that Manhattan women, who used to be-let's face it-rather lupine and self-absorbed , have been teaming up and cleaning up ! Take a) power hostesses Cynthia Rowley (clothing designer) and Ilene Rosenzweig (writer); b) nannies-turned-joint-authoresses Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus ; and c) Heather Juergensen and Jennifer Westfeldt , who co-wrote and co-star in the motion picture Kissing Jessica Stein , which opens today sans fancy premiere because the skinflints at Fox wouldn't fork up. The plot: Tired of the dating grind, a straight female New York journalist, played by Ms. Westfeldt, answers a personal ad from another damsel, played by Ms. Juergensen … va-va-va-voom! Ms. Westfeldt, the blond one , is from Connecticut ; Ms. Juergensen is a bonny brunette from Flatbush . They are "around 30" and in committed heterosexual relationships. "My boyfriend recently asked me if I had any proposal fantasies," said Heather. "He did ?" squealed Jennifer. How did H&J meet? "It was a theater workshop in the Catskills," said Jennifer in breathy girlspeak, "a kind of camp, a lab. It was very, very by-the-seat-of-your-pants-it was a wonderful spontaneous environment-and we were bunkmates!" How does the collaboration work? Jennifer: "We kind of bounce off each other ; we like to embrace life and we're both curious, and if we notice something that we're both intrigued by, it's like, 'Wow, hmmm-look at that!'" Heather: "We really came at this with such naïveté that really served us well, because if we hadn't been that way, we would've been so discouraged. I think the wide-eyed 'why not?' energy is helpful with filmmaking, because it's so impossible ." What's next? Jennifer: "We are actresses first. The dream would be that the Steven Soderberghs and Cameron Crowes and Ang Lees of this world would just want to cast us-that would be the ultimate crazy dream -but in lieu of that, we'll just keep writing our own rules!" You go , sister girlfriend(s)!

[777-FILM.]

Thursday 14th

Called to the carpet: If the shelter mags are to be believed, New Yorkers are responding to the terrorist incursion of Sept. 11 thusly: They're gardening more, they're eating great big piles of mashed potatoes, and they don't like feeling the cold floor beneath their feet. Today, the Stark Carpet Corporation begins a warehouse sale: up to 80 percent off hand-knotted rugs, needlepoints, sisals, broadlooms, Orientals, Tibetan rugs, Berbers, Kilims, Dhurries, stair runners-personally, our Precious likes the feel of a nice white shag under his pedicured paws …. Later, if you're in the mood for one of those "parties in a store," where you go for the free plonk, never win the raffle, and have the unsettling feeling all night that you are part of a marketing strategy cooked up in some midtown boardroom: furniture manufacturer Mitchell Gold opens a "store-within-a store" at Stark rival ABC Carpet & Home.

[Sale, Metropolitan Pavilion, 125 West 18th Street, 10 a.m., 752-9000; Party, 888 Broadway, 6 p.m., by invitation only, 914-767-0964]

Friday 15th

The sweet stench of success: O.K., so last night was also the posh opening night of Sweet Smell of Success on Broadway with John Lithgow , but we still don't understand why anyone would monkey around with the movie, and we especially don't see why they would put that chap from Third Rock in it, but this is revival city, honey! (See Oklahoma, The Crucible, Our Town , 42nd Street , I Love You, The Producers, etc.) Fortunately, the 1957 movie version of Sweet Smell , starring swish Tony Curtis , is beginning a two-week run tonight at the good old reliable Film Forum.

[ Sweet Smell of Success , play, Martin Beck Theatre, 302 West 45th Street, 8 p.m., 239-6200; movie, Film Forum, 209 West Houston Street, 727-8110.]

Saturday 16th

Be their Gest? Plucky little songbird Liza Minnelli weds manager-producer-studmuffin David Gest tonight in front of a guest list that could keep The National Enquirer busy for years: Michael Jackson, Mia Farrow, Liz Taylor …. Bring the happy couple a $475 punch ladle from Tiffany's, then thwack her on the rump with it for good luck as she saunters down the aisle. Meanwhile, a mere half-mile south, the Empire State Pride Agenda hosts its "Night of 100 Parties" for lesbian and gay civil rights. Hey, they may not have Whitney Houston, but they do have D.J. David Knapp from Atlanta, back by popular demand! We're betting Mr. Gest pops by for a post-nuptial cordial.

[Minnelli-Gest nuptials, Marble Collegiate Church, 1 West 29th Street, we can't say exactly when; Empire State Pride Agenda's "Night of 100 Parties" fund-raiser, Altman Building, 135 West 18th Street, 8 p.m., 627-0305.]

Sunday 17th

Byrne, baby, Byrne! So today is St. Patrick's Day, and you were so caught up in the Minnelli-Gest affair yesterday that you totally spaced on the parade, which was held a day early this year because the holiday falls on a Sunday-but buck up , bronco, because New York's Irish Arts Center and darkly handsome actor Gabriel Byrne are co-presenting The Kings of the Kilburn Road , a black comedy set in modern-day London. The plot: Six Irish blokes reunite in a pub for a wake. "This is about a rough, tough area in London which is so tragically close to Ireland, but so tragically removed," said I.A.C. artistic director Pauline Turley in a charming semi-brogue. "The characters are all played by 50-year-old Irish men. We brought the entire cast over from Ireland; we have them in a hotel. Gabriel's such an intellectual, such a passionate, wonderful person-he has really been our guardian angel. When we gave our dinner dance, he was physically on the phone saying, 'You have to support this great institution.' He wrote a letter, he gave us his whole Rolodex, he auctioned himself off." So he'll be there tonight? "Unfortunately, he's in Australia filming right now." Somebody tell Nicole Kidman!

[553 West 51st Street, 7 p.m., 206-1515.]

Monday 18th

As we bear down on the Oscars next week, the Broadway people seem to be putting on even more "razzmatazz" than usual, don't they? Tonight, increasingly ashen actor Matthew Broderick hosts a tribute to Julie Harris , veteran actress not to be confused with Julie Andrews . Meanwhile, in midtown, a pride of divas-Zoe Caldwell, Lea DeLaria, Sandy ("I can fly!") Duncan, Rue McClanahan, Bebe Neuwirth, the un-diva-ish Cynthia Nixon, Bernadette Peters, the Rockettes, Chita Rivera, etc. -put on a big show: kicking and performing and singing and dancing. It's called Nothing Like a Dame , and it benefits the Phyllis Newman Women's Health Initiative of the Actors' Fund of America. So far, this appears to be an Eve Ensler–free zone . (And no, Nathan Lane is not among these divas-like any true diva, he's going to be at the Julie Harris thing.)

[Julie Harris tribute, Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center at 65th and Broadway, 7 p.m., 413-5101; Nothing Like a Dame , St. James Theater, 246 West 44th Street, 8 p.m., 840-0770.]

Tuesday 19th

Grapes group grope! Three ways to be "lightweight literary" tonight: 1) don something burlap and hit the big P.E.N. American Center centennial tribute to John Steinbeck , with playwright Arthur Miller ( bonus points if you can spot his Raphaelite-tressed daughter Rebecca ), oral historian Studs Terkel and priapic Paris Review editor George Plimpton (he just never quits, does he?); 2) Alan Furst putters in from Sag Harbor to read from his new thriller, Kingdom of Shadows ("This will be a big event . Lots of free Absolut vodka on hand," faxed a publicist); 3) authoress and blond babe Andes Hruby reads from her saucy new novel, The Trouble with Catherine , then relaxes at an exclusive, invitation-only book party at a bar around the corner. Bonus dirty excerpt (and more proof that those Penthouse "Forum" letters had a profound impact on 21st-century literature:) "I could feel him wanting me, pulling me tighter and starting to lust after me with his confidence. I surrendered, but as I slipped my tongue across his teeth I could feel my throat tighten …. He began cursing at me and then demanding to know if I was going to be his good little girl or just his fuck toy."

[John Steinbeck tribute, Alice Tully Hall, Broadway at 65th Street, 8 p.m., 721-6500; Alan Furst, Lenox Hill Bookstore, Lexington Avenue at 73rd Street, 6:30 p.m., 472-7170; Andes Hruby reading, 600 Fifth Avenue at 48th Street, 6 p.m.; party, Jack Rose, 771 Eighth Avenue at 47th Street, 7:30 p.m., by invitation only, 366-2223.]

Wednesday 20th

Call us cranks, but we feel rather venal about the vernal equinox , which occurs today at 2:16 p.m. The United Nations will ring a Peace Bell, school kids will try to balance eggs, and a sudden profusion of ladies in "fashionable" yet almost universally unflattering peasant blouses will promenade the avenues. It's also Earth Day, which means that a certain strain of Manhattan man is going to decide it's O.K. to expose his pasty legs in shorts and Birkenstocks , and bring a Frisbee to "toss around with the guys" at lunch time-and there's always one "sporty," tawny girl they invite along to join them, but it's never the Eight-Day Week, even though we can secretly run a sub-seven-minute mile!