Alexandra Jacobs
November 14, 1997 AT 05:00 AM EST

Quick, screen-industry someone, batten down the rights to this (cleverly door-shaped) book! Over years of letting some people in and bolting others out, locksmith author Kostman has played hero to enough New York crazies — Eddie Cantor’s cousin, age 92; a roomful of blithe, unconcerned naked men; one of his own forgetful high school teachers — to staff a dozen Woody Allen movies. These understated episodes are by turns hilariously erotic and terribly sad. The best show wistful chinks of Kostman’s own life. He’s got the proverbial steel-trap mind, and if at times he might be suspected of embroidery, he should be promptly issued literary license. A-

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