The Abc Monday Night Movie One of Her Own

 ((Mon. (16), 9-11 p.m., ABC))

By ADAM SANDLER

Filmed in North Carolina by Grossbart/Barnett Prods. in association with ABC Television. Executive producers, Joan Barnett, Jack Grossbart, Sydell Albert; producers, Don Goldman, Linda Kent; writer, Valerie West; director, Armand Mastroianni.
 
Cast: Lori Loughlin, Greg Evigan, Valerie Landsburg, Jeff Yagher, Jason Schombing, Reginald VelJohnson, Martin Sheen, Robert Treveiler, Rick Warner, Elaine Malke, Rhonda Griffis, Tammy Arnold, Terry Loughlin, Michael Genevie, Barry Bell, Patricia Gray, Robert Railford, Stephen Ayers, Liby Campbell, Dottie Grisson-Hardin, J. Michael Hunter, Kelly Misell.
 

Scripter Valerie West has taken the police code of silence and extrapolated that assumption into the area of co-worker rape and assorted misconduct. While a premise with promise, getting there is laborious and covers well-trod ground, using cliches and insipid banter to convey its points.

When female rookie police officer Toni Stroud (Lori Loughlin) is raped by fellow officer Charlie Lloyd (Greg Evigan), she is unable to tell her superiors for fear of departmental reprisals. Her discovery that Lloyd has committed similar offenses against civilians moves her to come forward, but not without paying a price.

Naturally, the department won't stand by her, despite her excellent performance ratings, and she is fired. Down but not out, she takes her case public.

Evigan makes up in character for whatever's lacking in the script. He uses his formerly heartthrob twinkle to turn his cop-on-the-skids into a devilish, misogynistic knucklehead. Incapable of sensing disdain and loathing aimed his way, Evigan's Lloyd is a torturous presence.

Conversely, Loughlin ("Full House") brings little to the party. Her Stroud is a laughable sort, wearing the expected rainbow of emotions on her sleeve, leaving little to subtlety or skill.

Director Armand Mastroianni picks his shots carefully, using his players wisely in every scene. But the show's demise is accelerated by uninteresting characters -- save for Evigan's -- and a weak, predictable story.

The brief courtroom work by Martin Sheen as an assistant DA who prosecutes Lloyd for the rape is vintage Sheen. His righteous indignation and hang-'em-high vibe keeps the show from sinking into total oblivion, but he comes into the picture too late to save it.

An expected verdict closes the show, and a courthouse-steps encounter between Stroud and a victim who failed to come forward but is grateful for the conviction is a predictable ending to this unsatisfying meller.

Camera, Tom Priestley, production design, Norm Baron; editors, Robert Florio, Tim Boettcher; sound, Steve Smith; music, George S. Clinton.