Here's a title that says it all. Bertrand Morane (Charles Denner, upon whom the film is partly/sort of based) loves women, and he'll jeopardize life and limb just to get a look at a woman's shins. This semi-classic François Truffaut film is little more than a series of "relationships" of Bertrand's, as seen in flashback from his funeral and through the lyricism of his autobiography. The funny thing isn't just how desperate Bertrand is -- he's also rather homely and seemingly irresistable. The ending is classic: From his death bed, he reaches for the nurse, only to fall to his ultimate demise. It's a quirky film about, well, not quite love, and not quite relationships, but what passed for them in 1970s France.

Aka L'Homme qui aimait les femmes.