If actors won Oscars purely for their ability to produce raging rivers of tears on command, Robin Williams could start writing his acceptance speech for next year's ceremony right now. Between "What Dreams May Come" and "Patch Adams," he would have the prize locked up. Williams' routine goes something like this: First, there's a forlorn look, followed by the wrinkling of the eyes. Then his lips begin to tremble, like the ground around Yosemite moments before a geiser eruption. Finally -- boom! -- industrial-size drops of saline begin cascading down his cheeks, accompanied by cracking in his voice or a heavy wheeze. It's an act that can be used to good effect when Williams is working with a director such as Gus Van Sant ("Good Will Hunting"), who knows when to cut away from the waterworks. But "Patch"'s Tom Shadyac is not one to say no to his stars -- his previous films are the Eddie Murphy remake of "The Nutty Professor" and Jim Carrey's "Liar Liar" -- so "Patch" pauses every 20 minutes or so to allow Williams a chance to drain his tearducts. The movie opens with a warning that what we're about to see is a true story, perhaps because the filmmakers recognized Steve Oedekerk's script was so corny it might otherwise have been mistaken for something written 60 years ago and just recovered from the vault. Williams plays Hunter "Patch" Adams, who overcame clinical depression to become a physician dedicated to treating patients like people and using humor to ease pain and suffering. The real-life Adams (who looks more like Salvador Dali than Williams) is the author of the well-reviewed books "Gesundheit!" and "House Calls," and he's also considerably more fascinating than the film gives him credit for being. The screenplay is so intent on turning Adams into a modern-day saint it never offers any genuine insights into the man's background or psychological makeup, concentrating instead on his clashes with cardboard authority figures, such as a scheming dean (Bob Gunton) and institutional orderlies who are too quick to restrain and subdue. The brightest patches in "Patch" are those that have little to do with the basic story, such as a foray into a meat-packers' convention and a ridiculously elaborate prank played by Adams on a group of visiting gynecologists. Unfortunately, those moments come early in the film and are followed by such bitter pills as a grueling scene in which Adams weeps his way through a rendition of "Blue Skies" and a lengthy soliliquoy allowing Adams to berate God for being so inefficient and distant. "You rested on the seventh day," he bellows. "Maybe you should have spent that day on compassion!" "Patch Adams" will probably sway those viewers who sigh whenever they see that coffee commercial where "Peter" comes home unexpectedly and brightens everyone's Christmas, but this attempted tribute to the human spirit more often than not seems like it was written by a computer. All the cliched characters fall into place -- the frosty/friendly colleague (Monica Potter, doing her best Julia Roberts imitation), the uptight roommate (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the adorably kook (Michael Jeter; tummy, be still) -- and perform exactly as expected, while Williams does his best to moisturize everyone in his vacinity. The real Patch Adams could have told all concerned that laughter, not saccharin, is the best medicine, both for patients and for moviegoers. James Sanford
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