Love Junkie

The burning issue in this comedy of (mostly gay) manners by the author of My Search for Warren Harding seems to be ``Can a 41-year-old housewife find happiness with a gorgeous 29-year-old porn star who sells his dirty underwear?'' The more pertinent question for readers, unfortunately, may be ``Who cares?'' Mildly amusing at first, the plot soon becomes an uncomfortable melange of raunchy remarks and bad sitcom humor. After endless would-be-racy dialogue--most of which barely qualifies as single entendre --Mimi Smithers, a denizen of Bronxville, N.Y., with a lagging libido, offers her house and her money for the making of a dirty movie. Plunket's gag lines are either retreads (``I'm sure he was her husband--they weren't saying a word to each other'') or sophomoric (``Her name was Nanette--or as I called her, No No Nanette''). Even Mimi's tangents have tangents; some are droll, but most are either too ``in'' or tied to her endless name-dropping. Since her coy first-person narrative is annoyingly inconsistent in voice and attitudes, empathizing over her escapades becomes increasingly difficult. But then, it's difficult to work up sympathy for anyone who has her dog put to sleep because its barking impedes a movie filming. (Apr.)