With little going on in Odile's life besides an English class, she quickly, unwittingly ensnares herself in a heist of money from her aunt and guardian's safe. Coquettish looks and misunderstood conversation between a misfit girl and two young men dabbling with the idea of being gangsters at first results in lackadaisical hanging out, but soon turns mean-spirited in Bande à Parte.

The 1964 film (known in English as Band of Outsiders or The Outsiders), one of bored youth without direction or guidance, is nothing new. A few notable implementations, though, veer this away from a typical '60s romp à la Annette Funicello: black and white film, for one. It shimmers with high-key lighting, open skies, and white walls; and, while it may not have a lot of honorable intention or content, resistance to smiling at parts can prove futile. Each scene has urgency, due mainly to the "live reporting" camera techniques.

Jean-Luc Godard gives the actors little pith with which to mold their characters, an aspect that would've felt asphyxiating to many actors of that time and of today. Karina, for the most part, contours her features into a pitiable frown meant, presumably, to convey a smorgasbord of emotions ranging from confusion to dislike. She frowns a lot. The scenes where the trio enjoys each other's company — when they dance the Madison or attempt a minute of silence — feel the most natural, the most credible.

Could this be too much digging into a film constructed to look fresh and cool, and timbred with Michel Legrand's light-hearted Parisian score? Possibly. Godard piecemealed the script together, day by day, using what sets he could and, more often than not, existing lighting. He didn't overly concern himself with characterization, plot, or story development. What his efforts lack in depth and substance isn't made up for with realistic cinematography and a fresh, rebellious approach.

Hackneyed writing and stringed fragments of pop culture references may project cool and crisp, but attention to craft serves the cast, crew, and audience much better, providing the respect and structure needed for actors to apply their medium. To wit, although Anna Karina is an undeniable beauty, placing her in front of the camera and rolling does not a feature film make. She does her best, but often resorts to eye-candy posturing.