Boring bullshit. In 1959 this would've been sexually liberating - Brigitte Bardot, wow wow wow what a hottie! But let's be honest, all we have here is a pathetic love triangle headed by an actress who is, at best, an A-level porn star. I like Bardot, but asking her to portray emotional depth is asking me to tear out my diodes in frustration.

"Her ass is like a song." On the eve of the Nouvelle Vague, Roger Vadim constructed this ode to Bardot's derriere that became a worldwide hit and made a star of Bardot. Seen today, it's a boring, misogynistic would-be sex farce, made tolerable by the agreeable location and, of course, the body of Bardot (not her acting).

It may have been scandalous when it was first released, but it's tame by today's standards. The final scene - Bardot's character being led home by her husband, presumably to a life of wifely servitude - is virtually a conservative's wet-dream (she'd already got a couple of slaps for good measure a bit earlier). Still, Bardot does have amazing screen presence (nice mambo...), and Vadim's widescreen cinematography is pretty decent. St Tropez looks almost as good Bardot's nudie sunbathing.

Brigitte Bardot was pretty gorgeous back in the day. This movie is a lot like her: pretty but terrible.

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