Sex Tabby

A Very Private Affair is a very sad affair. Brigitte Bardot, the once cuddly sex kitten, has grown into a sullen tabby, and though New Wave Director Louis Malle is lavish with cinematic catnip (she pouts, flounces and appears in all sorts of bottomless costumes), nothing seems to bring back the young BB.

Malle's merciless closeups, more eloquently than the script, make the picture's point: it's hard for a mere woman to be a movie goddess. Affair's scenario is creepily Bardographical. It tells the story of a simple girl who doesn't enjoy being a movie idol. She signs autographs as if on her own death warrant, views mobs of admirers from the back seat of her white Citroen like some tumbrel-borne Marie Antoinette, hysterically adopts a lover-of-the-week policy. Finally, after fainting in the midst of a rabble of fans who are chanting her name outside a movie house, she speeds back home to Geneva, determined to give it all up. There she plops into the none-too-reluctant arms of Marcello Mastroianni, takes up residence in his apartment, tries suicide in his bathroom, follows him to Spoleto. Director Malle's somewhat awkward purpose in getting her to Italy is to expose her to the flashbulb-popping paparazzi, who destroy her with cameras. The scenery is beautiful, but audiences unaccustomed to BB in a bitter-dregs role may yearn for the bubbly vintage Bardot that used to be one of France's most delicious exports.

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