Maybe I’m just cynical, or maybe I’ve simply watched too many of those wicked European films. Anyhow, I fail to see how The Graduate qualifies as the exciting new experience it has been cracked up to be. Basically, it operates as a giant confidence trick, with flash shots of discreet nudity to suggest Rabelaisian frankness, a handful of irrelevant protest songs to turn it into a symbol of student revolt, and some lush Lelouch-style photography to give it all a disarming wrapper.