MOVIES / COMMENTARY : Charting the Dog Days . . . <i> Woof</i> : So far the season has no new tricks: It’s full of sequels and audience-tested stars and concepts . . . but there are some surprises

Hobbes: And how are the movie sequels this summer?

Calvin: Great! Man, there’s nothing I hate more than paying five bucks and having to deal with some new plot.

If there ever was a time when the movie business took Calvin’s credo to heart, this has been it. Now at its official halfway mark, the summer of 1992 has been so replete with sequels, continuations, afterthoughts and what have you that they ought to take down the Hollywood sign and replace it with something that spells out deja vu in large, ornate letters.

Besides the films like “Lethal Weapon 3” and “Alien 3” that proudly display the numerical evidence of their derivativeness in their titles, there is “Patriot Games,” the follow-up to “The Hunt for Red October”; “Batman Returns,” wherein the caped crusader defies logic and rashly comes back for more, and, later this month, “Honey, I Blew Up the Kid” (singular) succeeding the original “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” (plural).

Not only that, almost every film out there, from “Sister Act” and “Housesitter” to “Far and Away,” “Boomerang” and “A League of Their Own” is such an amalgam of so many familiar elements that it wasn’t surprising to hear a friend shrewdly comment, “Watching these films is like going to fixed fights.” We know who’s going to win, and it certainly isn’t us.

Not only are these films repetitive, but even the scenario of a summer full of repetitive films replays itself year after year, an image repeated into infinity in a fun-house mirror. While original films are not exactly a studio trademark at any time, the summer season, when school is out and those wonderfully dependable young people can be counted on to troop in lock step to a theater near you, is when even Hollywood’s timid idea of a risk is to be strictly avoided.

Summer is the perennial money season, when studios look to get well from their rest-of-the-year splurge of putting too much money in all the wrong hands for all the wrong reasons. When director Richard Donner can make amends for crash-landing “Radio Flyer” by making the customers happy with “Lethal Weapon 3.” For sequels, with audience-tested stars and concepts, are the surest way the studios know of risking as little as possible by courting the highest possible return.

Yet even the best researched plans of moguls at times go astray, and it is always fascinating to see which ventures performed as expected and which ones landed with rather dullish thuds. And because no one in the business wants to be associated with anything small, even a small failure, bigness will be the yardstick by which everything will be measured. For instance:

Biggest Media Event: “Batman Returns,” of course. Helped by oodles of promotional money and a warehouse full of product tie-ins, Warner Bros. succeeded in making this the film you had to see whether you wanted to or not, a film that would make money whether anyone really liked it or not. A triumph of sorts, without a doubt.

Biggest Surprise: “Sister Act.” No one, not most critics, not even star Whoopi Goldberg, was very positive about this singing nuns comedy, and in truth it would be possible to write a weighty theoretical treatise on its flaws. In practice, however, whether it has any right to be or not, this is the out and out funniest picture in quite some time, and audiences have not been shy in responding.

Biggest Letdown: “Alien 3.” Handed the choicest franchise in the sci-fi business, a concept that helped make the careers of Ridley Scott and James Cameron, video director David Fincher got too arty for his own and the audience’s good, forgetting that people go to films like this to be jolted, nothing more and definitely nothing less.

Biggest Explosions: “Lethal Weapon 3” could probably go one-on-one with the Serbian air force in terms of mayhem inflicted on helpless civilians. Though the original concept of Mel Gibson as killing machine has almost dropped from sight, he and Danny Glover still manage to get a visible kick out of being buddies, and that as much as the leveling of structures has made audiences respond.

Biggest Star Failure: A tie between “Housesitter” and “Far and Away.” Actually, blaming the lack of excitement surrounding these films on Steve Martin, Goldie Hawn and Tom Cruise respectively is the equivalent of killing the messenger who brought the bad news. Both of these films disappointed because, having secured major stars, the powers that be either didn’t know what a good script was or felt that worrying about whether they had one or not was wasted effort. Wrong, wrong, a thousand times wrong.

Biggest Safe Bet: “Patriot Games.” Sometimes taking no chances and making no mistakes is the better part of box-office valor. With action stalwart Harrison Ford in the lead, capable Australian director Philip Noyce behind the camera, and a cranky Tom Clancy reluctantly lending his support, this film did it strictly by the numbers and, if it didn’t expand its core audience, didn’t alienate it either.

Biggest Ego Massage: “Boomerang.” Actually, watching this tailor-made but ill-fitting star vehicle makes one feel sad for Eddie Murphy more than anything else. Here he is, all of 31 years old, enormously talented, seriously wealthy, yet uncertain about what to do with his career and clearly bereft of anyone around him either willing or able to give him sound advice. It really is a shame.

Biggest Hankie: That’s what you’ll need when you venture into “A League of Their Own.” Director Penny Marshall, dismissive, rather like Mr. Murphy, of the comedy that made her famous, keeps wanting to up the sentimentality quotient. The two of them should make a video date to watch Preston Sturges’ “Sullivan’s Travels,” the best defense filmed comedy ever had, and go back to the drawing board.

Biggest Reasons to Hope Against Hope and Look Forward to the Rest of the Summer: Let’s see, now. There’s Clint Eastwood doing what Clint does best in “Unforgiven.” Ditto for director Brian De Palma in “Raising Cain.” “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” has a promising title, as does “Death Becomes Her.” “Prelude to a Kiss” promises some sweet romance, and the return of writer-director Andrew Bergman in “Honeymoon in Vegas” is invariably a reason to laugh.

Could films that sound so good possibly let us down?

Don’t answer that.