The Aviator's Wife is one of Rohmer's most delightful films, and also one of his most wayward. It opens at dawn as Francois finishes his night shift at the Post Office, and takes you to the gare de l'Est at different times, which somehow are very present in the whole feel of the film, as are the streets and the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont. Rohmer was to similarly stake out truths at daybreak in Full Moon In Paris three years later, with a similar sense of floating in the main character, although the heroine there couldn't be more different from Philippe Marlaud's character. We experience some of his disorientation; most of the time, he is acting on a whim, without clear intention. You imagine this is not typical of him. The dialogues between him and the two very different girls he talks to in the course of the day are illuminating of character in a way that makes them compelling in a low-key way, as always with Rohmer. Marie Riviere becomes almost unbearable, I thought, but somehow by the end she elicits a certain sympathy, and you are surprised to feel this, at least I was! No doubt the precise balance of sympathies is meant to be open; for me, Marlaud was a delight, and of course one must not forget Anne-Laure Meury who has great gamine charm, and a wonderfully lively intelligence, even if she is a bit immature, but at fifteen, who can blame her for that? My only regret - and it is a slight one, because I love this film - is that Rohmer shows his heroine not with more sympathy, but with a more intimate gaze than the hero, hence we see her frolicking in a state of decided undress for about half an hour. It makes sense, because we are in her flat, but I for one would have liked some of the scenes to be shot in Francois' flat and for him to get out of bed to answer the door without putting his trousers on. It is the naturalness of this aspect that is so disarming, as always in his films; in fact he is much less inclined to a sexualised presentation of women than Truffaut, but equally he never has any gay characters, where Truffaut does ... At all events this is one of the great French films, I think, and its sexual politics are, in all seriousness, beyond reproach.