DRIVEN-IN SATURDAY

In the 25 or so years The Dauphin has been slaving over a hot SmithCorona, hammering out this quasicritical column, many film genres have come under scrutiny but rarely have we touched upon the subject of ghosts. This is not surprising. When one's tastes run toward the gory, the sleazy, the trashy and anything involving a combination of latex and power drills, one isn't likely to devote much attention to something as wispy and potentially whimsical as cinematic ectoplasms.