Daily News from New York, New York • 158

FRIDAY EXTRA April 10. 1987 DAILY NEWS JUL By KATHLEEN CARROLL Daily News Movie Critic ism MAKING MR. RIGHT. John Malkovich, Ann Magnuson. Directed by Susan Seidelman.

At Loews Paramount. Tower East and 23d St. West Triplex. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes. Rated PG-13.

Tf El GOOD MAN, ACCORDING to a to a recent Harvard demographic study, is hard to find. So you can understand i CHARLIE SHEEN E.IGIOIV By CHRIS CHASE THREE FOR THE ROAD. Charlie Sheen, Alan Ruck, Herri Green. Directed by B.W.L Norton. At area theaters.

Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes. Rated PG. 4 1 CAN'T TELL YOU how dopey this movie is. No, wait, let me tell you how dopey GOD'S GIFT TO WOMAN Android John Malkovich Ann Magnuson why Frankie Stone, the pert heroine of Susan Seidelman's adorably spaced-out comedy, "Making Mr. Right," seems a little on edge as she whizzes around town in her red convertible.

Her career as a Miami Beach image consultant is going swimmingly well, but it's so all-consuming that the only men she meets are her clients. Her current flame is a slick-looking candidate (Ben Masters) for Congress. His TV commercials tout him as "the best of the so-called best" But Frankie has just spotted him kissing the winner of the Miss Havana beauty pageant, so she figures it's time to continue her search for a sensitive, caring man. For now, however, she has to deal with Dr. Jeff Peters, a socially inept robotic engineer who's designed the perfect android to perform such dangerous tasks as exploring outer space.

His "amazing piece of equipment," Ulysses, not only has all the essential body parts, but he looks exactly like Dr. Peters. True, his head goes into a complete spin whenever he has a close encounter with an attractive woman, but that, Frankie reasons, she will correct when she teaches him the social graces. Well, you can imagine what happens next, when Frankie develops a mysterious with the bridesmaids in complimentary hues of lavender tulle. Ann Magnuson is perky as the chic-looking Frankie who betrays her insecurity each time she rapplies her lipstick, John Malkovich is more than comically adept, as both the re-, pressed Dr.

Peters and the innocent Ulysses. And Laurie Metcalf practically steals all the laughs as the man-hungry lab technician who has a disastrous date with the android. "Making Mr. Right" has its clumsy moments, make no mistake, but there is something endearing about this sweet-natured, gently wacky social satire. attraction for this mechanized innocent, who has none of the macho attitudes of the average American male and who, best of all, loves to shop.

"Making Mr. Right" lacks the polish and pizazz of Seidelman's first major hit, "Desperately Seeking Susan." Still, this desperate search for Mr. Right is appealingly giddy and even wistful at times. The jokes are mostly low-key and off-handed, and Seidelman makes the most of her turf, reveling in Miami's vibrant Art Deco architecture. The movie's funniest sequence, the wedding of Fran-kie's purple-haired sister to a local busboy, is the epitome of Miami tacky SUCCESS' WILL SPOIL MICHAEL FOX this movie is.

Very dopey. I can hear the powers that be asking themselves, what do kids like? They like beer, loud music, making out and car chases, right? So let's give it to them. In this movie, the music is loud enough to hurt your head, and it's still preferable to the dialogue. We've got a senator (Raymond J. Barry) who's so mad at his rebellious daughter Robin (Kerri Green) who likes to eat with her feet that he's banishing her to a psychiatric institute for troubled girls.

He's afraid bad publicity about her will hurt his career. So how does he get Robin to the reform school? He dispatches her, drugged, into the custody of a young congressional aide whom he has never met before. Smart, huh? He's got all kinds of power and money, and he's got what he perceives to be this time-bomb of a daughter, and he puts her into the hands of an absolute stranger. The aide, Paul (Charlie Sheen) accepts the mission, along with the lend of the senator's Mercedes-he stops on his way out of town to pick up his friend T.S. (Alan Ruck)-and off the trio go.

Oh, what fun they have. Robin runs away, they chase her. They handcuff her. She gets free and handcuffs Paul. She steals the Mercedes.

Then Paul and T.S. steal a Porsche you think this is a low-rent movie? and none of it is funny. I don't know. The lead actors are young; they'll probably be able to live down "Three for the Road." Chris Chaa I a fraquant contributor. office tower, accompanied by loud rock music, and some mushy footage of him smooching with his "extra-tall leading lady, Helen Slater, on the Staten Island ferry.

THE SECRET OF MY SUCCESS. Michael Fox, Helen Slater. Directed by Herbert Ross. At Movieland, Gemini, Loews Or-pheum Twin, 34th St Showplace, 84th St. Six.

Running time: 1 hour, 49 minutes. Rated PG-13. LATER, WHO Appears to be playing a cut-rate version of Mary Cunningham, SLEEPING HIS WAY UP: Boy wonder Michael J. Fox rarrs-i ICHAEL J. FOX, I Kja 1 I wh0 at age 25' 1 90 VI looks barely old LuU enough to qualify for his driver's license, plays a typically brash kid in the mail room in "The Secret of My Success." In fact the eager-beaver Brantley Foster is really just a clone of the rambunctious hero in "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying," and he's soon hob-nobbing with "the suits" in his mad rush to become a top executive in a major New York conglomerate.

He makes it to the top after meeting his boss' neglected, the M.B.A. accused of cozy-ing up to the boss, merely looks ill at ease as she tries not to tower over this shrimp. At times the music completely drowns out the dialogue, which shows you how much value was placed on the script You don't need a Wall Street analyst to figure out that this wishy-washy yuppie comedy is a bad investment Kathleen Carroll movie makers trying to cash in on Michael J. Fox without really trying. It's as if they all took an extended lunch break during the actual shooting and then made a last-ditch effort to salvage this listless comedy by turning it into a music video.

So all you have are montage sequences of Fox racing around a downtown the earmarks of a bunch of sex-hungry wife (played with some verve by Margaret Whitton), who chases him around her pool house before bedding him down. Fox, mind you, is such a perennial juvenile that his love scenes are just plain embarrassing. So much for what is laughingly called the plot of this movie, which has all.