Okay, here's the deal. Ordinarily, I'm not much of a fan of "crossover" stars. I don't think much of country music stars that want to be rock-n-roll stars. I've never been too taken with science fiction writers who decide they want to write a "legitimate" novel. And, usually, I dread the very notion of TV stars jumping to the big screen.

Oh, sure, some of them manage quite fine, thank you. Woody Harrelson's face gets projected on movie screens quite regularly, Bruce Willis is a bonafide star, and Tom Hanks is the reigning King of Hollywood.

But all too often we get the famed celebrity scramble. A few weeks in the Nielsen Top 10 and our favorite small screener goes sprinting toward the offices of Premiere and sharing a Caesar salad with Joel Silver.

We see 'em splash into a big flick, and, all too often, watch 'em fizzle out. Their shiny armor takes a dent or two and we see them limp back to TV, looking a bit smaller and less wonderful. Bill Cosby, can we adjust your vertical hold for you, sir? Welcome back, Michael J. Fox. You look so much taller on channel two.

For every Jim Carrey, you have a (urp!) David Spade. I could trade you a Cybill Shepherd for a Johnny Depp, and a Marilu Henner for a Danny DeVito. Anyone remember the title of Farrah Fawcett's last hit movie? Or the last time you saw Jimmy Smits' name on the Oscar ballot? Need something more to judge this theory on? Well, the verdict is in on Roseanne -- guilty on one count of She-Devil.

Anyway, with this in mind, I pass along a note to the cast of the atomically popular show "Friends":

The rest of you can just stop. Just keep on doing your show and pretending that the writers aren't the real stars. There is only one of you who'll make the transition and be successful. And, Matthew Perry, you're the one. Don't screw it up.

Perry's first major two-step at the Big Prom is called Fools Rush In. He plays a young executive in a firm that builds nightclubs all over the world. He's a fast talker, a mover, a shaker.... Sheez, who am I kidding? He's playing Chandler Bing with a cooler job.

As the plot goes, Matthew's character Alex has a one-night fling with the absolutely smokin' hot Salma Hayek, and, lo and behold, the bird meets the bee and she becomes encumbered with child. A few heart-tugs later, and the two marry.

The rest of the movie deals with the culture clash between Wonder Bread and Tortilla, and whether or not true love can bridge the gap.

Folks, this movie does what it sets out to do. It serves up the elements of a good romantic comedy. Perry's slick wit and Hayek's ironic underplay blend well, and they work smoothly as a team, both for laughs and romance. Sweet Salma's dashes of comedy helped save Desperado from being a smothering shoot-'em-up, so we all knew she could do it.

The surprise is finding out that there is more to Matthew Perry than just his must-see tee-vee persona. Yes, this is Chandler Bing, but it's kind of a Chandler-Lite. The smart alecky, witty guy is still there, but this one also has a gentleness that makes him more believable and more memorable.

Granted, the script is not a threat to When Harry Met Sally. It stutter-steps periodically, and suffers from a severe case of chronic predictability. Its bid for respectabilty comes from director Andy Tennant's willingness to let his stars work the material for those extra bits of somethin'. When Matthew's on, he's on target, like a good laser scalpel. Salma is also a very steady presence, not only radiating a powerful sexiness from that holy-moley, all-day body, but also tapping into a sensual softness that's straight from the heart.

This is not a great film, and, Lord knows, it ain't perfect. But it's one ideal vehicle to bring two up-and-comers into the limelight. Let perfection come later, as they grow into their skills. You rush either of these people into the big-budget nova, and they're gonna fade like a milk carton in the sun. (Paging David Caruso. David Caruso. Stephen Bochko returning your call.)