The two finest nude scenes in the Ledoyen canon are the highlights of this otherwise nearly unbearably well-meaning and preachy French musical concerning a slatternly young beauty and her many boyfriends, one of whom is stricken with AIDS and who, despite not showing any outward symptoms other than occasionally being out of breath (a common enough occurrence when chasing the delicately flouncing Virginie through Paris) is doomed by the film's earnestness to sport a MAY EXPIRE BEFORE FINAL CREDITS tattoo across his none-too-pretty Gallic forehead (my girlfriend was quite disappointed with Demy's looks, but I must reserve comment as my eyes were consistently directed elsewhere).
Review of Jeanne and the Perfect Guy
