Happily married Frederic conducts a secret relationship with Chloe which is not an affair. By and by Chloe says she desires a child fathered by Frederic; nothing more. But this is a lie, for Chloe also admits she is in love with Frederic. Will Frederic be seduced?

Behold Love in the Afternoon (1972) by Eric Rohmer. Quiet and smart, it stars the husband and wife team of Bernard (Frederic) and Francoise Verley (Frederic’s wife) as well as Zouzou as Chloe. All three actors are credible, the women unconventionally attractive. There is nothing wrong with the buttocks they expose.

Rohmer knew how to write moral tales, no doubt about it: Love in the Afternoon is part of his Six Moral Tales series. It is both subtle and easy to understand. And successfully directed.

(In French with English subtitles)

The United States is more or less a loony bin these days, primarily due to the thinking of the Left. The 1979 Winter Kills is directed and screenwritten by William Richert, adapted from a novel by Richard Condon. Herein, too, the U.S. is more or less a loony bin, primarily due to the actions of political who-knows-what-they-are—the actions, in fact, of assassins.

But the film is as preposterous as it is convoluted. On the other hand, there is a lot of enticing footage. Pa Kegan is the immoral and insensitive Joe Kennedy of the film, and in the finest sequence here, Kegan’s son Nick (Jeff Bridges) rides a fast horse to several nice spots in order to vent his frustration over Pa. Comedy and tragedy in wild WK, however, fail to blend well. The movie bombs.

A once ugly young woman, Tamara Drewe, has always liked and fallen for men; and now beautiful, she turns their heads as well. She does so in the dull English village to which she returns, and what vexing scrapes—in Stephen Frears‘s film Tamara Drewe (2010)—the poor, straying girl gets into!

Based on a decent graphic novel, the movie is very enjoyable, even if it ends with a certain triumph for a disgustingly mischievous teenage girl (Jessica Barden). Gemma Arterton is pleasant as Tamara, but strikingly, delightfully true are most of the other actors, such as Roger Allam (Nicholas) and Bill Camp (Glen). I haven’t paid much attention to Frears’s direction over the years; here, it is excellent.

Such a Gorgeous Kid Like Me (1972) is a Francois Truffaut comedy—really, a tragicomedy—in which a woman accused of murder tells her tale to a sociologist penning a thesis. Camille Bliss, acted by Bernadette Lafont, was mistreated as a child but got her own back. Is she a mere tramp through her present behavior? Dunno, but this is a typical slapdash-for-entertainment piece from Truffaut, the best thing about it being the cast. Charles Denner, Guy Marchand, Andre Dussollier are all here.

Notwithstanding she makes too many faces, Lafont is terrific, an intelligent farceur, her screen presence necessary. She has a European look with gorgeous brown hair and perhaps the most comely bosom ever put on film.

By the way, yes, Kid contains a maddeningly silly story.

(In French with English subtitles)

I have already reviewed The King of Marvin Gardens (1972) but was unfair to the film by claiming that Bob Rafelson‘s direction is derivative of Fellini and Antonioni. I don’t believe it quite is. Rafelson is his own man, one who regrettably settled for a clearly second-rate story idea and script, written by Jacob Brackman, for his art picture.

I still say King is about the tragic unfulfillment of dreams taking place amid fading respectable culture. It’s a culture Jason Stabler (Bruce Dern) sinks his claws into, whereas his brother (Jack Nicholson) is reluctant. But then, he is a frustrated and sometimes dishonest artist of sorts—and sexually restrained to boot. From beginning to end in the film, there is empty-world shabbiness. But also there is too little drama until the last twenty minutes—and even too little poetry so the picture is not much like, say, Antonioni’s Eclipse. It’s just not wholly uninteresting.