The opening bits are so sticky-sweet that you can hardly wait for the thumbscrews to arrive. The sheer horror of what happens to the main characters provides the sole point of interest for this entire production, as the rest is strictly generic. Smaller films like this cry out for the sure hand of a Robert Benton or an Eric Rohmer, but they know better than to take assignments like this. On top of that, there are times when I wish that every sitcom writer would get AIDS