Eric Rohmer's movies are, it seems almost without exception, slow- burners that reward those with the patience to sit through them, preferably more than once in some cases, and think about whats being said as much as whats being shown. This, his first feature in colour requires considerable thought on the part of the viewer, serving up nothing in the way of dramatic excitement and featuring three loathsome main characters who's morals are very in keeping with the era of late- 60s self satisfaction and hedonistic excess. Not that the hedonism is very wild. Jimi Hendrix does not blast from the simple record player that sits near a chair and provides the only music in the film. No one smokes anything illegal or pops any pills, talks of Indian mystics or goes in for meditation. But there is the very liberated (nowadays we'd say reckless) attitude to casual sex, although we don't see very much; the relaxed tangle of naked legs half glimpsed through one doorway, a brief an unrevealing shot of the main protagonist, the disturbingly young looking Haydee, quietly enjoying the intimate attention of another one-night-stand. Otherwise it's all hints and the more effective for that. Haydee is the very image of a swinging-sixties bed hopper. Young, slender, independent, cool and seemingly amoral she wrecks the plans of Adrian, an art dealer with time on his hands, when he finds her resident in a borrowed holiday villa at which he intends to devote himself to doing nothing at all for a few weeks while his girlfriend is in London. Haydee's noisy night-time frolics disturb his sleep and offend his self- declared sense of morality and the added presence in the house of his lazy, grumpy painter-friend Daniel sets up a spiralling tension between them all. But this is pure Rohmer and that tension manifests itself not in fist-fights, broken furniture, tearful confessions and blood-letting, but insults, low-key/nigh-brow arguments, teasing, sniping and political manoeuvring. In fact the more one thinks about the film, and it's one of those movies that does hang around long after the credits, the more one realises it's actually rather more like real-life, certainly as most of us endure it from time to time, than the over-dramatic offerings we are used to from mainstream movie-makers. Haydee maybe cute, Adrien describes himself as handsome and the setting is idyllic but you really wouldn't like to be on holiday with these unsympathetic characters. Observing their antics from without is one thing but to be part of it would be a nightmare! Oddly with it's morality so perfectly fixed in it's own time, this seems far more like a film from the 1970s. Something in it's look and after-the-party sense of deflation and disenchantment fits in with that later decade. Seeing it without knowing the release date you might well guess at 1972 or even later. If Godard's BANDE A PARTE is set in a Swinging-Sixties that hasn't yet arrived, Rohmer's film portrays one that has already left the building, although it's after-effects continue to create a problem. It all sounds somewhat depressing on paper and to some extent it is! It's not an easy film but if you give it time and maybe second look, you might well find there is more to this outwardly simple tale than you thought.

LA COLECTIONNEUSE is Eric Rohmer's first color feature, and along with cinematographer and frequent collaborator Nestor Almendros, he uses a bright palette to maximum advantage in a story that like its time frame, is bursting in warm, vibrant hues that pretty much parallels the equally lightweight plot. Straying habitually close to the same story that makes up what the "Moral Tales" are about, this one concerns a frisky female, Haydee (Haydee Politoff), who captures the attention and equal repulsion of two other young men: Daniel (Daniel Pommereulle), an artist with a penchant for making art that literally cuts its viewers "who aren't sharp", and Adrien (Patrick Bauchau), a young art dealer who is soon to make a lucrative purchase from an American artist.

Haydee is first seen in a frank, objectified way: walking on the beach of Saint Tropez, alone, as the camera lingers on her face (reminiscent of Charlize Theron), her torso, her legs. It's, in a way, Rohmer's mode of possibly depersonalizing his heroine since she remains a murky character with little definition -- one moment submissive, another moment quite take-charge, but always obscure. It's also a way of introducing her carefree way to the viewer; had she been introduced as a buttoned-down, prim female, it would have been clear her role would be that of a woman of stiff mores. But, as we see throughout the movie, Haydee is living in the middle of the swinging Sixties and she could care less about those things. Nor if her partying disturbs the sleep of Adrien or Daniel.

Their share at the summer house in Saint Tropez is anything but placid. The two men are appalled at her behavior and decide not to have sex with Haydee "for her own good." Adrien even decides to dub her "The Collector" -- a moniker that makes up the title of the movie and points at a spiteful machismo because where men can be womanizers and be called studs, women who take on this attitude are sanctioned. He stays at a distance from Haydee as she becomes involved with Daniel. Their liaison, however, becomes rocky and both soon part ways, leaving Haydee and Adrien with an open door to come one step closer. In a shocking move, Adrien offers her to a prospective client in order to secure a Song vase. Surprisingly, she accepts, not without an incident involving the aforementioned vase, which in turn leads Haydee right into Adrien's arms.

Rohmer's movie is not without its "Rohmerisms" where characters introduce themselves with lengthy discussions as to the nature of life, love, attractions, and repulsions. In fact, every character minus Haydee does so, which makes her the more elusive and difficult to describe. Is she just floating along with what the men think they want? Or is she really clueless, a woman who has a simple view on life and who doesn't find any guilt in her actions? Interestingly enough, her "philosophy" is rather close to that of Adrien's girlfriend (every male character in his "Six Moral Tales" arc has a steady) who sees love as universal, indifferent to beauty or ugliness. That Haydee acts upon Adrien's girlfriend's statement says a lot more about who the girlfriend might be, but sheds an accessible light on Haydee.

And anyways, she comes off better than any of the two men, as do the other females of Rohmer's sextet -- Maud, Laura, or Chloe. (It's also interesting that all of the "other women" are mainly brunette and aggressive or assertive in temper, whereas the "ideal" one is frequently blond or passive in character.) Even when objectified, there is a mysterious likability within her that is missing in his two male leads. Adrien is a little hypocritical of his own observant nature and while he openly derides Haydee he also wants her. Daniel is a dark guy in this story and in all of the "Six Moral Tales" collection, not just because of his pain-inducing art, but a veneer of violence just underneath his arrogant demeanor. Maybe, in this story -- as well as all of his others -- Rohmer seems to be the Ultimate Observer, painting a picture in regards to immature men, their attraction to a worldly female, and their decision to remain in a complacent union with another one that can only be there as a Barbie doll.