Review

Jean-Luc Godard’s 1966 film, ostensibly an adaptation of a pulpy Donald Westlake novel, takes a standard-issue thriller plot and turns it into a theatrical meditation on imperialism and cinema. As the first real sign that the New Wave icon’s playful body of work would soon devolve into full-on political deconstruction, it’s lovely to look at—but not so much to decipher.