Luis Buñuel's racial (and obliquely pedophiliac) drama, set in South Carolina but shot in Mexico, is undeniably lurid. But the stubborn individuality of the thing -- the individuality of the characters as well as of their director -- gives it much in common with art, nothing at all in common …
Louis Malle attempts to do the impossible or at least the imprudent: to adapt Raymond Queneau's anarchic comic novel to the screen. Malle's loose visual equivalents to the book's verbal stunts inevitably fall short, but they are not nothing. His compulsive playfulness, while seldom terribly amusing, and often a bit …