After Jamon Jamon and Golden Balls, Bigas Luna, that bizarre Spanish hybrid of Pedro Almodovar and Benny Hill, completes his flesh wobbling trilogy of comedies with this typically atypical coming-of-age story. And all those who had their fancies tickled by his previous forays into the social science of the breast, buttock and bollock, will find this consummate, if slightly obsessed, filmmaker, once again on fine form.
Having been put out by the arrival of his baby brother, who now gets first claim on his mother's breast, nine-year-old Tete (Biel Duran) asks the moon to find him a woman to give him the necessary sustenance. Soon afterwards he claps eyes on the pouting cleavage of cabaret performer Estrellita (May) and falls in love. But he faces competition from her husband Maurice (Darmon), the vaudeville motorcycling fart king of France, and love sick teen Miguel (Poveda). When the fartmeister's performances leave him too tired to satisfy her, he is quickly booted into touch in favour of a humpathon with young Miguel. Meanwhile, Tete patiently waits for his chance to get hold of her prize assets.
Despite its tendency to push the joke too far (a dream sequence with close-ups of breasts expressing milk borders on the tasteless), Luna directs with a refreshing innocence and delivers a delightful love letter to womankind complete with the full quota of giggles. It may be as kitsch as flock wallpaper, but, alongside its equally saucy brothers, proves that sexual comedies can be so much more than smutty sideshows for the raincoat brigade. In fact, this is Luna's breast one yet.