'ALL women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That is his,'' quipped Oscar Wilde. One wonders how he would define his own case. We have come a long way since his day in recognising the importance of father/son relationships. The loving tensions of this complex bond have been reflected in a string of movies. The most recent offering has been Sleepless in Seattle, although the treatment of the father and son relationship was slight, sentimental and glossy. But it is a good-looking movie and is tugging at heartstrings at the box office. The most rewarding, though, is A River Runs Through It, Robert Redford's richly rewarding drama of two very different brothers, and Robert De Niro's This Boy's Life. Then there are two new releases, the first of which is simply called Mac (laser). ''There are only two ways of doing things - the right way and my way. And they are both the same thing.'' These are the words Mac (writer/director John Turturro) remembers his father saying, and the same words he screams at his brothers as an adult. Turturro made Mac as a tribute to his father - a first generation Italian immigrant in New York. He was a carpenter. Turturro hates the way the movies tend to portray Italians as petty criminals in the Mafia and its sub-culture. Mac follows the lives of three Italian-American brothers who grow up in Queens in the 1950s. Against the odds, they form a successful construction business. Mac's vision and sheer determination pull it off, but not before he alienates the brothers who cannot survive his relentless and violent adherence to absolute standards. Turturro swings brilliantly from moods of raucous joy with work mates to impatient fury, to moments of tender trust with his new wife (endearingly played by his real-life wife Katherine Borowitz). There is also a quirky, if peripheral, cameo from EllenBarkin. Mac is a finely made and touching film. Turturro won the Best Actor at Cannes with Barton Fink and Mac last year won him the Camera D'Or for Best First Film. The invitation ''Can your dad come out and play'' haunts young Jack in Jack the Bear (laser) when he moves into a new neighbourhood with his little brother and recently widowed father (Danny DeVito). Jack's bumbling alcoholic father hosts a TV show introducing monster movies. This was a part made for DeVito as he leers out at the audience with corny axe-in-the-head type gimmicks. At home, he continues the monster games - at Halloween his house looks like the ultimate House of Horrors and it is dad who goes out in the wild costume and Jack who cringes at home. The kids of the neighbourhood all come calling for Jack's dad hoping he will come out to play the monster. Dad slips into the part all too embarrassingly. Jack has trouble reconciling dad's fun-loving screen image with the befuddled man in the messy house who is too hungover to take little brother to school on his first day. Jack's dad warns him that monsters only exist in ourselves. This observation explodes into reality when the boys create a monster story around their strange, limping neighbour - known as the ''zombie''. This monster turns out to be for real - a manic neo-Nazi with a warped vision. DeVito is shambling, rather seedy, clownish and big hearted. His troubles don't all vanish when the monster is vanquished. The family's problems are strongly felt and the boy's pained love of his father beautifully orchestrated. DeVito's performance draws us right into the heart of the father and son relationship - troubles and all. Lasers and videos supplied by KPS and Movieland.