There are a lot of rumpled white sheets in moonlit chateaux as a young, rich, handsome suit dreams of Peugeot 406's and Kim Basinger. We are each as individual as our dreams, it says on-screen, in the now-usual white-text-black-background format for gnomic thought, meaning, about as individualistic as battery chickens.
Anyway, a lot goes on in this man's dreams, starting with the view over a grand balcony, past columns and heavy-grade masonry to the Peugeot centre-stage.
A great deal follows, all to introduce the film-within-a-film, which shows Miss Basinger in white with a new short haircut. Our man is in the cinema, watching her intently. Then we cut back to the rumpled moonlit sheets for dream-sequence two, which gets somewhat rougher and sexier - guns, police, direct interaction with Kim, who comes into the bedroom through a sort of ectoplasmic muslin effect. This produces fighter-pilot and long-jumper shots - oh, come on - as Kim walks over to kiss him in front of the fire, and ...
When he wakes up, it's all in place - chateau, bedroom, etc - but the terrace view reveals no silver suburban buggy. He turns reproachfully to Kim - also still in place - and asks reproachfully, "where's my 406?" Sadly, not all our dreams come true, says another line of on-screen text. It's just about the most expensive boys-will-be-boys joke to be seen around since they gave up using this theme for the promotion of beer.