This tale of a photographer's amorous misadventures demonstrates cinematic vanity projects still exist in 21st century France. Shot in 'artistic' B&W, the film opens with poetically rumpled Francois shooting some publicity stills of a young married actress, Carole, whose film-maker husband is away in Hollywood. Despite Carole's lack of charisma, Francois falls under her spell, and they embark on an obsessive love affair. Director Garrel shows this with long shots of the couple asleep, smoking cigarettes or staring moodily into the distance. Consequently it seems somewhat capricious when Carole suddenly suffers a breakdown, sets fire to her apartment, and is consigned to an asylum where she writhes around theatrically in a straitjacket.
After her release, Carole breaks up with Francois, telling him she's going to reconcile with her husband, and then drowns her sorrows with a bottle of gin in an over-acting masterclass. Francois seeks solace with a new love interest, but memories of Carole drive him on to a melodramatic destiny. The narrative makes even less sense on screen than it does on paper, and it's easy to see why the Cannes Festival audience greeted the film's producers with whistles of derision for wasting their time.
