The shallow end of the screenplay

>> Michelle Pfeiffer suffers through The Deep End of the Ocean

by MATTHEW HAYS

Conventional wisdom has it that crappy books usually make great movies--think Touch of Evil, Jaws or The Bridges of Madison County. But then again, conventional wisdom is so often wrong, as appears to be the case with The Deep End of the Ocean, director Ulu Grosbard's adaptation of Jacquelyn Mitchard's bestselling novel of the same name.

Michelle Pfeiffer stars as a busy mother of three who, early in the film, attends her 15th anniversary high-school reunion. In the lobby of the hosting hotel, Pfeiffer is somewhat overwhelmed by the bustling crowd. She leaves her two sons--aged three and six--together, telling the elder to hold his younger brother's hand while she lines up to check into the hotel. Cut to a few minutes later, and the youngun' is missing.

A stirring scenario, for sure--one that will grip any parent or grandparent--or anyone, for that matter, who has ever cared for fragile young children. And Grosbard, the accomplished director behind such films as The Subject Was Roses and True Confessions, milks the set-up well. As minutes turn into hours, Pfeiffer's anxiety and dread grow worse.

Pfeiffer, her husband (Treat Williams) and their two remaining children attempt to move on with their lives. But nine years later, their long lost son is returned to them by a freak accident. Still attached to the only father he can remember, the now-12-year-old Ben (played effectively by Ryan Merriman) struggles to fit into the biological family to which he is supposed to belong.

The Deep End of the Ocean's principal problem--and there are many to choose from--is its wafer-thin characterizations. Whoopi Goldberg plays the cop who, rather mysteriously, shows up at various moments throughout the film, offering advice about as complex as that offered by many of those pseudo-experts we constantly see on daytime TV chat shows. We know Goldberg's a lesbian, because she tells us, just like we know Pfeiffer is a hot-shot photographer, because she tells us. Characters this one-dimensional, aided by Elmer Bernstein's treacly score, leave the film stranded in made-for-TV movie-of-the-week territory.

The greatest irony of The Deep End of the Ocean undoubtedly lies in its title. Capped off with a faulty feel-good conclusion, this film emerges as about as deep as the shallow end of a kiddie's wading pool.

The Deep End of the Ocean opens Friday, March 12