Assuming this isn’t straight up in praise of pedophilia (a suspect assumption), I still struggle to see much value in the music which to my ears sounds like a formulaic recipe of “seductive” French whispering on top of repetitive riffs that go nowhere. As for the creepy concept, I’d prefer the sleeze to be a bit more satirical and spicy. If anything, Gainsbourg is good at getting in and out. The 28 minute run time is the best thing about this. And to be fair, the conclusion with the concept of the “cargo cult” was pretty cool—just like the primitive people of Oceania worshipping the inconceivable material goods of the west, Gainsbourg’s character (himself) is obsessed with his impossible lover, a god-send, a…child. John Frum will never come again.