Harry-Max, Jade, Claude, Léaud, Jean-Pierre, Lonsdale, Michael, Seyrig, Delphine, Truffaut, François	...	(Director)
François Truffaut, Claude de Givray	...	(Writer)
Jean-Pierre Léaud	...	Antoine Doinel
Delphine Seyrig	...	Fabienne Tabard
Claude Jade	...	Christine Darbon
Michael Lonsdale	...	Georges Tabard
Harry-Max	...	Monsieur Henri
André Falcon	...	Monsieur Blady
Daniel Ceccaldi	...	Lucien Darbon
Claire Duhamel	...	Madame Darbon
Catherine Lutz	...	Catherine
Martine Ferrière	...	La chef-vendeuse du magasin de chaussures
Jacques Rispal	...	Monsieur Colin
Serge Rousseau	...	Le type qui suit Christine
Paul Pavel	...	Julien
François Darbon	...	L'adjudant-chef Picard
Albert Simono	...	Albani, le client de l'agence
Léon Elkenbaum	...	Neighbour, Dentist
Madeleine Parard	...	Prostitute 1
France Monteil	...	Prostitute 2
Carole Noe	...	Tall Girl
Roger Trapp	...	Hotel Manager
Christine Pellé	...	Mademoiselle Ida
Chantal Banlier	...	Vendeuse
Jacques Delord	...	Robert Espannet
Marcel Berbert	...
Pascale Dauman	...	La Parisienne suivie dans la rue
Denys Clerval	...	Director of Photography
Agnès Guillemot	...	Editor
Claude Pignot	...	Production Design
René Levert	...	Sound Designer
Antoine Duhamel	...	Original Music Composer
Léo Chauliac	...	Original Music Composer

Summary: Eight years after the wry romantic sketch Antoine and Colette, François Truffaut and Jean-Pierre Léaud reunited to catch up with Truffaut's cinematic alter ego, Antoine Doinel, the troubled adolescent of The 400 Blows. Stolen Kisses opens with the now-grown Doinel sprung from military prison with a dishonorable discharge, drawn directly from Truffaut's own history of delinquency, but the parallels end there. Lovesick Doinel woos the perky but unresponsive object of his affections, Christine (Claude Jade) while he engages in a series of professions--hotel night watchman, private investigator, TV repairman--with mixed success and comic entanglements. But when he falls in love with the elegant wife of his client (Delphine Seyrig at her most beautiful and charming), Christine realizes she misses Antoine's persistence and clumsy passes, so she embarks on a seductive plan of her own. Truffaut's comic confection is full of deadpan gags and screwball chaos, a world away from the heavy seriousness of The 400 Blows, and Léaud is endearingly naive as the determined Doinel, forging ahead with more pluck and passion than aptitude. It may be Truffaut's most sweetly romantic film, a knowing man's embrace of eager innocence and storybook sentiment. Doinel returns two years later in Bed and Board. --Sean Axmaker