Dumb people dismiss French movies as being too pretentious; pretentious people point to dumb movies like Avenue Montaigne as evidence to the contrary. In the case of this 2006 film, both groups would be right. Trying to be a light, sentimental comedy doubling as a sloppy wet kiss to the beauty and energy of Paris, Avenue Montaigne is driven by secondary meanings and morality-tale leanings. Beautiful artistic types — actors, musicians, painters — meander through the movie in a blissful way, as satisfied with themselves and their pop-culture knowledge as they are with the vitality of their city. Romance blossoms and … well, that’s about it. Director Danièle Thompson tries vainly to make a larger point, but the thin effervescence of the film bubbles away any such attempts. It’s both pretentious and dumb.