In the fourth part of Truffaut's Antoine Doinel series we find that Antoine (Jean-Pierre Léaud) has married his Stolen Kisses girlfriend, Christine (Claude Jade), and has settled down to domestic bliss in a quiet Parisian neighborhood. Or has he?

Domicile Conjugal (Bed and Board) begins as a romantic comedy by introducing us to the neighbors. It's a lively little neighborhood where Antoine is now scraping together a living by dyeing flowers while his wife gives violin lessons, playing the "Marseilles" to cue her husband when the customer forgets to pay. We hear an opera tenor practicing next door, pacing impatiently for his wife nightly at the same time before tossing her fur stole and purse down the steps--a routine that we will see more than once. Could this be Truffaut poking fun of the humdrum of the "normal" life, or could it be foreshadowing Antoine's future?

The other neighbors have their routines as well. There's the frantic, middle-aged woman who propositions Antoine every day as he ignores her, and the elderly man upstairs who never ventures from his apartment. In fact, he claims that he will only walk the Parisian streets after the former French leader is dead and buried. Add to that mix the mysterious stranger, whom some speculate may be a psychotic killer or spy (until they discover his true identity), and then there's the group that gathers at the shop to check out and fantasize about the ladies walking by.

Pretty ordinary stuff, but charming the way Truffaut captures the vignettes, all the time focusing on Antoine and Christine. The relationships are much like we find them in Stolen Kisses, except this time Antoine is more under control and his wife actually seeks a quick kiss when downstairs in her parents' wine cellar. There's a few normal marital disagreements over things like whether they really need a phone, but it first appears that the couple is settling into the type of routine that most people endure.

Though I've become hooked following Antoine, having seen him grow up through The 400 Blows, Antoine and Colette, and Stolen Kisses, this film would probably be too bland to stand on its own. Most viewers would quickly tire of this ordinary, likeable couple without the background knowledge.

Of course, we need a change or conflict to make this film worth its 100 minutes, so Truffaut delivers in ways that are consistent with the characters. We have seen that Antoine has too much energy and is too creative to stick to one narrow niche, and it's no surprise to see him seek another job. He begins working for a major American architectural firm, mainly remote-controlling miniature boats through a scale model maze of channels and docks. It would be like hiring someone to test video games in today's world.

The other change that occurs is fatherhood. Antoine and Christine have a baby boy, and the conflicts begin to manifest themselves more obviously--Antoine is conspicuously absent during the birth, is ordered to leave his wife alone on the birth night, and the couple disagrees completely about the boy's name. Instead of bringing Antoine and Christine closer, it seems that the addition brings out the negatives between them.

Before long, the lonely and bored Antoine is in what he imagines to be a more exotic relationship with a Japanese girl, Kyoko (Hiroko Berghauser), so will Antoine find happiness here or will he return to the domestic life?

Shot in color in similar episodic style as Stolen Kisses, Truffaut's script seems more coherent here than it does in the previous more popular film. The plot line is more structured, and the bookend pieces near the beginning and end give Bed and Board a more complete feeling that Stolen Kisses. Still its biggest charms rest with small vignettes.

Some favorite small moments in the film:

1. The daily routine of the opera singer and his wife.
   
   
2. The lively conversation that ensues at the family table about what song Christine can signal Antoine with on the violin when the forgetful customer exits.
   
   
3. Antoine's reactions after dropping Christine off at the "strange"; building with several offices (including a gynecologist's), but not making sense of it until he sees a baby picture in the underground metro.
   
   
4. The bed scene with Christine making note of Antoine's reading material (about Japanese women), and Antoine's immediate excuse that it's for work. Also charming is his insistence that his wife put her glasses on, and his sincere compliments.
   
   
5. The brief meeting Antoine has with his father-in-law at a local bordello.
   
   
6. The Annie Hall-style scene that splits between Antoine telling a friend about his relationship with his wife and Christine doing the same with another friend. It made me wonder if Woody Allen had copied this concept from Truffaut.

Truffaut continues his Hitchcockian, voyeuristic fascination right with the opening medium tracking shot of Christine's legs. She stops off at a shop for tangerines and begins to head up the stairs, as one of the neighborhood men longingly admires them (mind you, we've only seen her legs so far). As Truffaut settles Christine and Antoine into their neighborhood, I found myself at ease and smiling: Truffaut puts us into familiar territory. There's not a great deal of action or plot development to the film, but I really cared about our two main characters. I'll sit through any film that can accomplish that.

Bed and Board may not be Truffaut's best film, but I found myself enjoying it more than the more critically acclaimed and popular Stolen Kisses. It's a simple film, but also a nice character study that does challenge us to evaluate our routine lives. I'm now more anxious to check the final chapter of Antoine's life than I was after the third film in the series.