With a plot laden with mistaken identities, voyeurism, marijuana-laced brownies and even a cameo by Vanessa Redgrave playing herself, "Merci" tries too hard to be madcap.

An elegant Merchant Ivory production, it is too slight and perhaps too precious. But it will be a witty pleasure for admirers of its grande dames: Dianne Wiest, Jane Birkin and Bulle Ogier.

Strains to be the ne plus ultra of arch, hyper-sophisticated fun, but the laughs are few.

Litvack offers a cameo by Vanessa Redgrave as proof that there's a prestige picture within all this frivolous melodrama. Non, merci.

Litvack is lazy with his jokes, characterizations, motives, and plotting.

This is less a coming-out tale than a showcase for late-middle-aged hysterical divas in flowing caftans to yell, scream and ride roughshod over the young homosexuals who are nominally the movie's center.

Brainless and pointless.

Andrew Litvack, whose inability to direct is outweighed only by his inability to write anything remotely witty, enlightening, or engaging. Calling this a farce would be, well, a farce.

Ghastly.