Cockles and Muscles grows on you with repeated viewings, I find. It is all about a family who go on holiday to a big house near Marseille. There is a son and daughter who are about 18 and 20, the mother has a lover, and the father a secret past. Then the son's friend comes to stay, who is gay, the mother suspects the son is and that they are boyfriends, and the stage is set for a farce that takes off like a helium balloon. There are continuous night-time trysts, cruising in the bushes, masturbation in the shower and out of it, and much all-round confusion, some of which can be blamed on too many oysters, but surely not all. The film maintains a warm tone throughout and Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi is particularly entrancing and laid-back. She is ideal for the part, and contrasts brilliantly with her uptight husband as played by Gilbert Melki, and the nude lover (Jacques Bonnaffé) emerging from behind the shrubbery. The youngsters are cute, the two musical numbers go with plenty of fizz, and there is some irony in the fact that the mother notices what a nice bottom the daughter's biker boyfriend has, something which we barely see and which cannot be uppermost in his mind, and that the next summer she has a new boyfriend who has this same salient feature which we do see as he dances. This gives a nice sense of continuity even if one might argue that it is on the wrong people. But this is only one of the film's profounder insights ... It also has some wonderful sun-drenched landscapes caught at different times of the day.