Pouty plaything Nastassia Kinski joins former danseur Rudolf Nureyev in a faux pas de deux called "Exposed." What the film bares, besides Nureyev's balletic buns, is a jumble of cinematic inadequacies -- mainly those of director/writer/producer James Toback, whose little-known but ballyhooed film "Fingers" won him the fancy cast for his self- aware, shallow tale of haute couture and terrorist chic. Kinski, last seen in "Cat People," plays a high-fashion clothes horse from a Wisconsin dairy farm, who leaves college one day and nearly the next becomes the hottest model in Manhattan. She trips off to France with her overnight lover (Nureyev) to bait a terrorist Svengali (Harvey Keitel) who uses beautiful bozos as a kind of designer bomb squad. Nureyev, the terrorist's nemesis, is a concert violinist come to Paris to prepare for a concert. And does he ever need the practice. He thwacks at his fiddle like he's trying to force it to confess. Nureyev is much better at playing around. He and Kinski do a little hot fiddling together: cat gut to cat girl. Toback manages to make Nureyev look not only grungy but clumsy as he peeps and pops about in pursuit of the lippy, hippy Kinski, often quoting poetry to win her. And Nureyev doesn't dance. Kinski does -- a questing, feely bebop. Her face, however, is frozen in a moue, which she uses to express everything from desire to discovery. The rest of the cast suffers mightily, too, from lousy lines and woozy characterizations. Keitel, as a foolhardy terrorist/philosopher, tests his bravura on some sophomoric dialogue: "Terror creates fear. Fear creates violence. And violence creates change." Is it really that simple? Keitel's top she-terrorist (Marion Varella) is equally preposterous in a tete a tete with Kinski at a Paris McDonalds. She explains her yen for Keitel: "I was walled in . . . if you're lucky, one day you notice a crack . . . And then you see the guy on the other side who made the crack, who understands you. And you let him show you how to understand yourself. That's when you find your power." What a McNugget. "Exposed," hardly a model movie, got all dressed up, but it had no place to go. EXPOSED -- At the Dupont Circle.