Stockard Channing, Donald Sutherland, Will Smith

Unfortunately, far more than six degrees separate John Guare's seal-pel-sharp urban satire of the haves and have-nots from the playwright's own awkward screen adaptation. The bloodied victim of a mugger, Smith seeks refuge in the luxurious Fifth Avenue apartment of Channing and Sutherland. Smith went to Harvard with their children—or so he tells them. In the course of an evening, he tells them a lot, including the story of his life with dad Sidney Poitier who arrives in town tomorrow to begin directing a movie version of Cats. His hosts are charmed, offering Smith lodging, money and friendship. The carefully liberal Channing and Sutherland learn quickly and painfully that their quondam guest is a poseur who has pulled his polished scam on several of their friends. But getting Smith out of their lives proves far more complicated than getting him in, and Channing—who sees the hustler as somehow expanding her horizons—is none too sure she wants to be rid of him. Six Degrees has a large theme but a small plot, and opening up the play for the screen—there are countless panoramic shots of New York—has done it no service. Nor has the decision to retain Guare's beautiful but stagy language. Six Degrees works best in the quiet moments when there are just two people onscreen—preferably Channing and the remarkable Smith. (R)