Godard deconstructs Bizet's opera and reconstructs as, at various points, a Bonnie-and-Clyde tale of lovers on the lam, a madcap comedy, a chamber piece, a modern urban romance, a courtroom drama and, finally, a tragedy. Godard plays a delightful parody of himself. Funny, sexy, and relatively accessible. Like much of Godard's later work, it's very much a film about its own construction.
Godard brought new levels of fragmentation to 60s cinema. By the 80s, he was just as fragmented, but old enough to slow down. Casting himself as a combination madman filmmaker/lecherous uncle, he takes yet another tale of noir-redux amour fou but views it from the outside. And if its doomed young lovers keep on living, that's because Godard had lived long enough himself to look past the fiction of a Romantic death.