Gary Lockwood cuts an amusingly masculine presence on the screen: dressed in T-shirts and blue jeans, chain-smoking and driving a revamped jalopy--his hair combed down over his forehead like a teenage car mechanic--he's a walking centerfold out of Tiger Beat. Lockwood plays an unemployed denizen of Los Angeles who follows peculiarly glamorous Anouk Aimée one afternoon down the city street and into a model shop (where men can photograph girls--look but don't touch). She's a French immigrant who'll be returning home soon (something to do with her papers), and he's been drafted and about to have his car repossessed. Certainly a one-night-stand is all these two lovelies can afford, but the things they talk about, the connection they make, may last a lot longer. Director Jacques Demy seems to have fallen in love with late-'60s L.A., and much of the movie is spent just following Lockwood around from place to place. It isn't right to say the picture meanders (it hasn't got the agenda to meander from!), though it does feel mighty thin. Films based upon character and conversation are apt to tire some viewers' patience, but those in the mood for a low-keyed, would-be love story could certainly do worse. Lockwood is boyish but solemn, perhaps a loner, and of very few words; still, he connects with viewers on an intrinsic level (you trust him) and his final scene on the telephone is a winner. **1/2 from ****