Daily News from New York, New York • 336

ty KATHLEEN CARKOll 1l TIM AFTER TIMS. Malcolm Mc.OM ifiSS intcneies meyer. ieew wow 1 Kunmna lime: I new, miiwieo. nam i-w. a inns last- th i.nnHnn nolice are about to close in Lr.

th nntnrinni Hilar ark" th RiDDer. They have trailed him right to the very doorstep of an elegant townhouse belonging to h.u. wens, me uisung.uu.ueu young writer, and, now they have pounced on a black medicine bag containing a most incriminating piece of 7jr Jr -v evidence a knife fresniy stauiea wiin Diooa. The bag belongs to Dr. John Stevenson who, as Wells' dinner guest, beat him at a game of chess only a few minutes before, after coldly declaring that Wells' would never defeat nun "uniu you learn uiuia.

the" police begin the check out the house. Wells is startled to discover that Stevenson has completely famous protagonists right in the middle of modern-day San Francisco and it is there that the real fun, along with some real terror, begins. Wells, played by Malcolm McDowell- an actor who has been neglected far too long arrives in his time-machine only to find that it is part of a museum exhibit honoring his very own career and containing bits and pieces of memorabilia from his past Walking out into the streets, dressed as a very model of a Victorian gentleman in his tweed suit," bis spats and his wire-rimmed spectacles, Welles immediately suffers from future shock. He finds people ordering something called "a Big Mac," along with "fries" which he tries and rather likes. He is stunned by the number of "motorcars" and the speed at which the San Francsico cabbies drive them.

But the real jolt comes when he discovers that the foreign exchange officer of local branch of a London bank is not a man, but a very determined young career woman (Mary Steenburgen) who eagerly, if nervously, invites him for lunch and then, to his even greater astonishment, takes him to her apartment where she proceeds to seduce him. So begins one of the funniest and most endearing screen romances of all time. It is in trying to blend a bright, breezy romantic comedy with a grimly serious suspense drama that Meyer falters. The parts of the movie that are strictly comedy work beautifully, but, by the same token, they tend to deflect Meyers from his real purpose which is to show a society so steeped in violence that a brutal killer like Jack the Ripper no longer feels like a freak, but a rank amateur. As it is, the startlingly graphic scenes showing Stevenson's acts of savagery have no real impact But no one would quarrel with Meyers choice of actors, certainly not with Steenburgen who has such a charmingly eccentric screen personality she is totally irresistible.

McDowell, whose "little boy lost" look quite understand brings out Steenburgen's maternal in disappeared. Remembering Stevenson's challenging words. Wells tries to imagine jusi wuai a mao wim diabolical mind would do under these circumstances. There is, Welles realizes with a sinking heart, only one possibility. Just as he had tearea, nis taiesi mvenuon, unww, jewel-encrusted machine, with "a cruising speed of two lyears per moment," that is capable of whisking its passengers into past or future centuries, is missing.

Suddenly, Iignts oegm 10 nasn, as weus euipij machine returns to its rightful position on the floor of his basement laboratory. Wells knows he has no choice. In order to protect mat Utopian society ne a cuukukw uriii viet in the future, he must board the time machine Steenburgen and McDowell: a scare through time and andrack down "that bloody maniac" in whatever century or place he may have landed- This novel plot idea is the basic inspiration for "Time After Time." a delectably witty movie that is so briskly space writers, not to mention an experienced sociologist David Warner, on the other hand, plays Stevenson with a cold arrogance that sends shivers down the spine. By all means, make time for "Time After Time." entertaining that it's difficult nono lau.ior u. ns uic movie screenwriter, not to menuon uirecior, uui stinct, is almost too trusting ana naive mr a mou wu was indisputably the greatest of all science fiction Nicholas Meyer has cleverly cnosen to piop nw iw r-yy'- WKSliZSrtXCK I mm that he is a confirmed heroin addict with tell-tale scars all over his arm that she has somehow failed to notice.

Her idea of a cure is to offer him more heroin (apparently to spare him the ordeal of withdrawal symptoms) and her body. When even incest fails, she finally tells him that his real father was not her late husband (who, as played by the marvelous Fred Gwynne, is the one decent sane character in the entire film), but an Italian nursery-school teacher who refused to marry her because he was in love with his mother. In an ending that could have been written by a nursery-school teacher, the son is supposedly cured on the spot after an emotional showdown with his father, a climatic scene that is further hyped by his mother's (with Martina Arroyo's magnificent voice substituting for Clayburgh's timid soprano) fortissimo singing of an aria from "Un Ballo in Maschera." It is only Vittorio Storaro's glowing shots of such famous Italian landmarks as the countryhouse where Verdi composed many of his operas that make "Luna" worth enduring. Bertolucci's use of a fabulous Rome apartment as the central backdrop for this turgid melodrama only makes one realize that at his worst Bertolucci, like the late Luchino Visconti, is a more impressive set decorator than filmmaker. Kathleen Carroll (ft i UNA.

Jill Clavborah. Matthew Barry Directed by Bernardo Bertelucci. At Alice Tullv Hall and, beeinnina SJSdiy? the sm St. Playhouse and LoewiNe York Twin. Kunnina time: 1 hours.

minutes. Rated R. In my New York Film Festival forecast today. I said something about not expecting many people to walk out of tonight's gala festival opening at Alice Tully Hall. Now that I have seen Bernardo Bertoluc-ci's "Luna," the festival's opening selection, I take it all back.

This intolerably long, dreadfully inane film is likely to drive the entire festival audience out into the streets. The program notes for the festival describe "Luna" as a "triumphant turning point" in Bertolucci's career, ostensibly because it is his first major film entirely in English. It would be more accurate to say that it marks the low point of Bertolucci's creative energies. It may include performance segments from two major operas, and its main character may be an American opera star spending the summer season with the Rome Opera company (who, for all her claims to stardom, appears to have only one devoted fan a homosexual who manages to miss her debut), but "Luna" is nothing but an overinflated soap opera. Its heroine, played with grave determination by Jill Clayburgh, has come to Rome with her 15-year-old son (Matthew Brady) only to discover, to her horror.

Mazursky. Sutherland and Adams: this $4 million laughs a mam WOMAN AND A BANK. Donald Sutlwrtand. nok" Aim Taul Marartkv. Dtncted by Noel Black, "ruiwi Aior Plata, Clna art.

Sunitfna lima: 1 how. 4 minutes. Rated PG. More queasy than spooky I aA. By ERNEST LEOGRANDE ri P3 T3 PJ CO PI to -4 CO There are, of course, certain complications.

Reese is in the process of stealing the construction blueprints for the bank when his picture is taken by a snappy-looking photographer (Brooke Adams) who wants to use it for the gigantic billboard that is soon to be plastered across the front of the bank. In the meantime, Norman, who is played by director Paul Mazursky, is busy enjoying his first real affair with a dippy, sex-crazed blonde (Leigh Hamilton) who, in one delightfully daffy scene, demonstrates the different screen kissing techniques employed by Robert Redford and Jack Nicholson. Then, too. they are both so nervous about the impending heist that they develop purely psychosomatic colds and have to resort to Valium just to maintain their calm while they're working in the bank's elevator shaft at night Sutherland and Adams are appealingly -funny as the movie's romantic duo who are hounded by Adams' jealous ex-lover. But it is Mazursky who completely steals the show with his deadpan reactions to everything but the actual loot the sight of which causes him to collapse in total shock and disbelief KATHLEEN CARROLL spooky.

People drown, choke to death and burn up while other people slink in and out of doors with enigmatic looks on their faces. Margaret Tyzack plays Mountolive nurse, the most sinister woman-in-charge since Mrs. Danvers. Ross and Elliott take forever to make the connection between her white uniform and the household's white cat but then they're not pictured as being particularly bright The movie spends its first two thirds building atmosphere, but attention doesn't thrive well on atmosphere alone. There is a small plus here and there, like the couple's flight in a RollsRoyce, which stubbornly keeps bringing them back to the mansion no matter what road they take, and Marianne Broome doing some fetching underwater swimming in the mansion's pool, a sequence that looks as if it had been choreographed for a resort attraction.

Norman is a mild-mannered computer expert for a brand new Vancouver bank who has concocted, just for the fun of it a foolproof, absolutely non-violent plan for robbing his employer of $4 million, using his knowledge of the bank's sophisticated electronic security system. His pal Reese, a civil engineer, thinks they should put the plan to work. But Norman is convinced that even though Reese has promised that it will be "a victimless crime," he is bound to be "the victim." For Norman, who is suffering from a case of the mid-life blues, has been running into a spell of bad luck. His wife, Doris, has told, him she "wants more space," and now that he has moved into a motel with Reese, she refuses to let him see the children. Still, on the other hand, that means that Norman really -has nothing to lose and so the plan is put into action in "A Man.

A Woman and A Bank." a mostly sluggish Canadian-made caper movie that has some refreshingly quirky moments. THE LEGACY. Katharine by Richard Marquand. At Eastside Cinema, Gramercy. Running time: I hour, minutes.

Rated R. "The Legacy" is the sort of supernatural movie in which blood from a cut throat drips through the ceiling faster than a water leak. Katharine Ross and Sam Elliott come to England from Los Angeles on a mysterious architectural design assignment but the designs are on them. A coven of internationally wealthy and powerful people have assembled at a secluded mansion to await the passing of their leader, Jason Mountolive (John Standing), who owes his soul to the devil and now, getting ready to cash in his chips, is about to pass on the leadership to one of them. The movie's effect is more queasy than.