Foreign and independent movies are often dismissed as "art" films, even if there's nothing particularly arty about them. It's as if their refusal to adhere to any common and/or commercial standard automatically makes them impenetrable. Mike Figgis' gorgeous and almost inconceivably pretentious The Loss Of Sexual Innocence, however, is an art film in the truest sense: The movie, largely without dialogue and far more intent on image than narrative, just hangs on the screen like a slide show of modern photography. And Figgis, a former photographer, surely wouldn't have it any other way. Filmed on a variety of media and featuring stunning cinematography by Benoît Delhomme (Cyclo, When The Cat's Away), The Loss Of Sexual Innocence is Figgis' semi-autobiographical tale of a man (played at various ages in various exotic locales by Julian Sands and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) whose worldview is shaped by his sexual experiences. Preposterously, the film is interrupted by enigmatic vignettes portraying a nude Adam-and-Eve-like couple (Femi Ogumbanjo and Hanne Klintoe, respectively) who explore a deceptively contemporary Eden, though here they are run out by a gang of jackbooted thugs, not God. Figgis is one of the few directors capable of generating a good performance from Sands, and the movie's imagery is often hypnotic, but you can't help feeling that a perfume ad would be just as effective. Despite its man-versus-nature-and-God insinuations, The Loss Of Sexual Innocence shouldn't be viewed as profound or philosophical. It works merely as a curiosity, a pretty and well-crafted change of pace that's bound to puzzle more than enlighten.