Noticing only the melodramatic possibilities of Lautrec's life and taking no hint from the steady, unsentimental gaze of the paintings, Planchon's movie embraces the values of the average Hollywood telefeature. Everyone is madly Belle Epoque, rushing from the CanCan to the centrefold-strewn brothel to another picnic on the banks of the Marne. Nothing remotely unexpected happens. As HTL, Royer is hopelessly miscast, to put it kindly. It's symptomatic that the Leg Situation is resolved by photographing him almost entirely from the waist up.