While the actress shivered in the biting breeze, the director and cinematographer discussed a shot. Headlines that scream. Erin Landy has the artsy kind of hip look one sees in Greenwich Village, New York. With long brown hair, big silver hoops earrings, and a black leather motorcycle jacket, she looks like a big city native. Empty liquor bottles of assorted shapes and sizes are lined up like soldiers on the narrow windowsill. A New York Mets pennant and a fraternity pledge paddle adhere neatly to the wood-paneled wall. A TV, a tapedeck, a cordless telephone. Lots of brown. It's a typical mosque of masculinity, minus the smell of damp socks. The Rev. William Roberts' church has no pews or stained glass windows, but there is more love, religious fervor and participation in the Frizzel Room of Eisenhower Chapel on Tuesday evenings than can be found in most "traditional" churches. A Coca-Cola can stands apart in a small clearing on an otherwise cluttered drafting table. The cylinder has been perforated with a multitude of tiny holes, as if it has been used for a target on a rifle range. If this gray gothic house were on a steep hill it might be the Norman Bates hotel. But that's how many of the houses on West College Avenue look. Don't go in the basements.