Stolen Kisses (1968) review

I am a gigantic fan of Truffaut - I love his writings too: so passionate and knowing and relaxed - but couldn't help but feel a little (slightly, read: slightly) disappointed by Stolen Kisses. That's not to say I didn't like it - I'd recommend it in a heartbeat, and, like Welles, Hitchcock, Fellini and the greats, everything by him is worth seeing - but it's a tad too brief, too tossed off and too eager to please. To create an apt metaphor: it's like one of the humorous brothel scenes in the film, quick, charming and quasi-empty. I understand Truffaut's statement regarding the instability of the common relationship and the rampant promiscuity and such (emphasized by the concluding scene in which an old man professes his dying and eternal love to Claude Jade and she scoffs like this statement was out of Blake or William S. and need-not-apply to this era), but when comparing the film (and the treatment of its theme) to his masterworks category where it is usually grouped (Jules et Jim, Shoot the Piano Player, The 400 Blows, Two English Girls - particularly the concept of love in Jules and Jim) it gets absolutely trounced. Fun and intelligent, obviously, but doesn't carry the moral, philosophical or social weight it should.