1960s college radicals in the present day: yuppies, aging hipsters, a television star, and a lonely wife. Director/co-writer Lawrence Kasdan was probably the kind of college radical who protested in his living room, in front of the TV set. He sets up the most obvious of gags, complete with character cut-outs, and yet he does manage a laugh or two--but it's purely on the good will brought about by the actors. The writing does not exist on any plane of reality, the changes in tone are jarring, the dialogue is frequently juvenile and/or embarrassing. Just as William Hurt is about to explain his sexual dysfunction to Mary Kay Place, we get a 'funny' jump cut to another room where the other characters react to Place's high-pitched scream, but--ha, ha--she's just reacting to a bat which has flown into the room. That's a good one. Or how about when Meg Tilly tells the story of her deceased boyfriend who didn't eat meat because he was afraid he'd be reincarnated as a steak. This is the kind of nudge-wink material Kasdan can't seem to get passed. Some of the players--Jeff Goldblum, Glenn Close and Kevin Kline, in particular--do rise above the occasion. Meg Tilly is much like a friendly, stoned bunny rabbit, but hers is an insulting role. William Hurt is made to be sullen and combative, and yet this character would not have shown up for the party. Mary Kay Place has another insulting role (she's just there to get pregnant!), and I have no idea what JoBeth Williams or Tom Berenger were trying for. A few moments do hit the bull's-eye, and the nostalgia inherent in the theme (coupled with an oldies soundtrack) was enough to win over audiences. **1/2 from ****