Five minutes into “Dixie Lanes” (1988), I could have sworn it was a movie based on a play. Movies based on plays generally suck. After a few more minutes, I realized no play that sucky would have ever been adapted to the screen. All the overacting? They came by that honestly. It’s a period piece from 1945 that involves teen angst, war heroes with skeletons in their closet and an entire town of one-dimensional characters. Hijinks (and yelling) ensue. It all turned out OK in the end. That’s because it ended, which meant I didn’t have to watch it anymore.