In 1924, French director René Clair made his most indelible mark on film history with Entr'acte, a surrealist rule-breaker (predating Un Chien Andalou by four years) graced with a disarmingly playful comic touch. Though he abandoned his experimental roots soon after, the deceptively lightweight Les Grandes Manoeuvres found Clair still eager to take chances three decades later. The story is set on the cusp of World War I, but the maneuvers in question don't take place on the battlefield. In a colorful garrison town, a notorious Don Juan (Gérard Philipe) wagers his fellow cavalrymen that he can seduce a reserved divorcée (Michele Morgan) before leaving for the summer on military duty. When he unwittingly falls in love with his prey, his reputation as a ruthless womanizer threatens to spoil their relationship. Like his seductive hero, Clair's effortless style—with its whooshing camera movements, elegant atmospherics, and lively bedroom farce—makes quick work of the viewer, but only as a set-up for the kill. The almost imperceptible difference between love and gamesmanship in Les Grandes Manoeuvres, a problem only aggravated by a network of spies and gossipers, is treated with just the right mix of irony, wit, and compassion. In Clair's world, aside from providing gentlemen with snappy uniforms, the impending war is a trivial nuisance next to matters of the heart.