Prince directed himself in this 1986 drama, in which he plays a Cote d’Azur gigolo romancing an inaccessibly rich French lass. The Marienbad pretension hangs thick and heavy over everything—Michael Ballhaus’s glossy black-and-white cinematography, the would-be elegance, the relentless dissociation of image and meaning (though for Prince, dissociation and linearity were the same thing: every impossible scene invites a literal reading). But why pick the wings off flies? Prince’s narcissism was easier to take than than that of his contemporaries Sylvester Stallone or Rob Lowe: he didn’t regard the rest of the world as an insult to his estimable self. With Kristin Scott-Thomas.