A parched academic attempt at sexy wit. Andrew Ames, 45, professor of English, is married to Anne, five years older than he and aging fast. So a little popsie named Alice Buioso in one of his lit classes is more to Andrew's tastes, especially after he gets an eyeful of Alice in the altogether in her student-production role of Helen in Marlowe's Dr. Faustus (""a play with too much clowning around, unlike Tamburlaine. . . Anyone with the smallest acquaintance with Elizabethan pronunciation. . . knows it was pronounced 'Fawstus' ""). Alice pities our prof, who promptly rents a motel room, but then she backs out. One more try, but this time Professor Ames' physiological response is a bit too eager. End of affair. And this thin, tired plot is delivered in a style that tries to be raffishly erudite and only manages to be clumsy and stiff: ""I, Andrew Ames, A.A., Adulterer Anonymous, was in a fever of expectation (Come to think of it 'Ames' is the subjunctive of Latin amo, meaning 'You may love')."" Wretched.