THREE of France's more attractive and unbash-young female stars are put to a minor ignominy in the French film, "Women Are Weak" ("Faibles Femmes"), an intended comedy in color. They are made tochase madly and shamelessly after a character, played by Alain Delon, who is supposed to be thoroughly fascinating, but, for our francs, is not. 　　This young man, whom some genius press agents of the time had helpfully tagged "the French James Dean," has long, silky hair, high cheekbones and a loose-jointed, soigné air. In close-ups (of which there are many), he smiles come-hitherly and generally is condescending towards the lovelies, who simply flip for him. He rides a motorcycle and affects the hauteur of a "cat." Under Michel Boisrond's intense direction, he is intensely the focus of the show. 　　But the point is too labored and obvious. The impression soon sets in that this is primarily an effort to promote a new glamour boy. And the fact that the rest of the picture, the story and dialogue, lacks subtlety and wit—is, indeed, downright foolish in its pretense of male attractiveness—finishes it. 　　There are other annoying aspects. It is apparent that producer Paul Graetz and M. Boisrond, the director, have endeavored to pump some cheap eroticism into it. There is a swimming-pool scene, full of young folk as near nudist as the law allows, which contains some rather seamy shenanigans between the hero and a newly married girl. And there is another scene in which the hero is pounced upon by the three dames and given such a rough-housing as might worry the circumspect. 　　Fortunately, the girls are fetching. Mylene Demonget is perhaps the most wholesome-looking and impressive. She is the beautiful blonde who was last seen here in "Witches of Salem." She's got the reach and everything on M. Delon. Pascale Petit is what her name says—a skinny little thing with a gamin air. She plays the girl, newly married, who still is a moth for her former flame. Jacqueline Sassard is the spiritual one, a plainly precocious convent girl who is led into mischief and expulsion by the hero's ineffable charm. 　　Obviously, all three of these young ladies are stronger than M. Delon. It is tiresome to see them wasting their strength on the likes of this film. 　　There are English subtitles, but they are no brighter than the script.

THREE of France's more attractive and unbash-young female stars are put to a minor ignominy in the French film, "Women Are Weak" ("Faibles Femmes"), an intended comedy in color. They are made tochase madly and shamelessly after a character, played by Alain Delon, who is supposed to be thoroughly fascinating, but, for our francs, is not. 　　This young man, whom some genius press agents of the time had helpfully tagged "the French James Dean," has long, silky hair, high cheekbones and a loose-jointed, soigné air. In close-ups (of which there are many), he smiles come-hitherly and generally is condescending towards the lovelies, who simply flip for him. He rides a motorcycle and affects the hauteur of a "cat." Under Michel Boisrond's intense direction, he is intensely the focus of the show. 　　But the point is too labored and obvious. The impression soon sets in that this is primarily an effort to promote a new glamour boy. And the fact that the rest of the picture, the story and dialogue, lacks subtlety and wit—is, indeed, downright foolish in its pretense of male attractiveness—finishes it. 　　There are other annoying aspects. It is apparent that producer Paul Graetz and M. Boisrond, the director, have endeavored to pump some cheap eroticism into it. There is a swimming-pool scene, full of young folk as near nudist as the law allows, which contains some rather seamy shenanigans between the hero and a newly married girl. And there is another scene in which the hero is pounced upon by the three dames and given such a rough-housing as might worry the circumspect. 　　Fortunately, the girls are fetching. Mylene Demonget is perhaps the most wholesome-looking and impressive. She is the beautiful blonde who was last seen here in "Witches of Salem." She's got the reach and everything on M. Delon. Pascale Petit is what her name says—a skinny little thing with a gamin air. She plays the girl, newly married, who still is a moth for her former flame. Jacqueline Sassard is the spiritual one, a plainly precocious convent girl who is led into mischief and expulsion by the hero's ineffable charm. 　　Obviously, all three of these young ladies are stronger than M. Delon. It is tiresome to see them wasting their strength on the likes of this film. 　　There are English subtitles, but they are no brighter than the script.

At the Conservatory of Vienna the student only have eyes for their beautiful singing teacher, tenor Eric Walter.