Rudolph's full-blown and unashamedly romantic evocation of the artistic life of '20s Paris - a playful, ironic, and affirmative meditation on life, love, and art - shows him at his most delightfully accessible. He relocates his resident ensemble players within the lusciously recreated cafés, galleries and salons of Montmartre and the Latin Quarter - truly 'a Paris of the mind' - where nothing can be taken at face value. Nick Hart, a poor painter-cum-Chicago Tribune caricaturist (Carradine, dazzlingly good), clashes with fellow American in Paris and rich art collector Stone (Lone, monolithic) over Rachel (Fiorentino, beautiful). His integrity is called into question when, thinking that money will enable him to reunite with Rachel, he is persuaded by predatory and fickle Nathalie de Ville (Chaplin), a wealthy collector of lovers, to forge a series of paintings. Hemingway is there, as are Gertrude Stein, Picasso, et al. It's Rudolph's most entertaining movie, elating, erotic, and full of life, colour, music, games, romance, dreams, and humour. Carradine could be Gary Cooper, and Rudolph turns fakery into an authenticated masterwork.