Don't believe all the fawning, obsequious other reviews praising this movie as one of Truffaut's best...It isn't.
Here's the premise of the film: a homely Frenchman with hangdog features lusts after every attractive woman he meets in his life (oh, and they all have to have great legs--that's his main obsession) and without the benefit of any particular charm or suaveness, manages to bed them all. I suppose because he happens to be bluntly honest, both to himself (as he narrates his story to the audience) and to the objects of his affection, THAT is supposed to be the secret to his amorous successes.
Yep, this handsomely-challenged Pepe LePew of a Ladies Man is such a lady-killer that in order not to disturb the fantasy of this piece, when his physician informs him he's contracted gonorrhea and should make an attempt to contact all his most recent lovers, he dismisses the task because there's been too many and he can't remember any of their names. What a Romeo! How noble and conscientious! Too bad Truffaut didn't live long enough to remake this in the age of AIDS, his main character could have turned out to be a real prince then...a true Lady-Killer, indeed.
It's not without total believability that such a troll (notice I didn't use the term "Frog"--hey, I can be politically correct when I put my mind to it) could maybe score with a few model type babes at some point in his lifetime (since, after all, you do see foxes all the times with guys so ugly you have to do a double-take and ask yourself, "what the hell does she see in him?! But almost immediately the actual answer quickly pops into your head--oh, he must have money).
I can see how some viewers might have fell for the charms of this frog of a picture (ok, I'm weak). It's a complete fantasy, and like all fantasies, there are those for whom the fantasy charms and captivates, and those who think the whole schlemiel is ridiculous and contrived. I was one of the latter.
Here's the premise of the film: a homely Frenchman with hangdog features lusts after every attractive woman he meets in his life (oh, and they all have to have great legs--that's his main obsession) and without the benefit of any particular charm or suaveness, manages to bed them all. I suppose because he happens to be bluntly honest, both to himself (as he narrates his story to the audience) and to the objects of his affection, THAT is supposed to be the secret to his amorous successes.
Yep, this handsomely-challenged Pepe LePew of a Ladies Man is such a lady-killer that in order not to disturb the fantasy of this piece, when his physician informs him he's contracted gonorrhea and should make an attempt to contact all his most recent lovers, he dismisses the task because there's been too many and he can't remember any of their names. What a Romeo! How noble and conscientious! Too bad Truffaut didn't live long enough to remake this in the age of AIDS, his main character could have turned out to be a real prince then...a true Lady-Killer, indeed.
It's not without total believability that such a troll (notice I didn't use the term "Frog"--hey, I can be politically correct when I put my mind to it) could maybe score with a few model type babes at some point in his lifetime (since, after all, you do see foxes all the times with guys so ugly you have to do a double-take and ask yourself, "what the hell does she see in him?! But almost immediately the actual answer quickly pops into your head--oh, he must have money).
I can see how some viewers might have fell for the charms of this frog of a picture (ok, I'm weak). It's a complete fantasy, and like all fantasies, there are those for whom the fantasy charms and captivates, and those who think the whole schlemiel is ridiculous and contrived. I was one of the latter.