A mindless comedy that's about as funny as a life sentence in solitary confinement, THE LONELY GUY stars perennial-buffoon Martin as a New York greeting-card writer who comes home from work one day to find his nymphomaniac girlfriend (Douglass) in bed with a beefcake dancer (Delmonte).

Dejected, Martin wanders around town until, on a park bench, he meets Grodin, a whining oaf who talks to ferns. Grodin tells Martin that he is a "lonely guy." Determined to find a girl by becoming a jogger, Martin meets Ivey, a likable girl who has been married toa half a dozen lonely guys. She

gives him her phone number; but moron that he is, he smears the writing. Then a frantic search begins. THE LONELY GUY is a dumb idea from start to finish, better suited for the pages of the juvenile-humor publication Mad Magazine than for the "R-rated" audience it is supposedly aimed at. The

romance between Martin and Ivey is occassionally charming, and Grodin's brand of sad-sack humor is potentially funny, but the film drags on endlessly, overplaying jokes ad infinitum.