In case you think I'm Pollyanna (do you all know who she is--or was?), I want to pan--with a capital "P"--La Moustache, a film that more than 80% of reviewers praised. It's the most lost-in-a-haze of pretentious film that I've seen in a long time. In its efforts to be psychologically significant, it was just plain draggy and meaningless. With two stalls and eight men waiting, the men's room was filled with guys throwing up their hands. While this obviously is hearsay evidence, the lobby had its share of wonderers what it was all about. If you disagree, send me an analysis that I can believe.