Breezing along on suites of flamenco guitar and light surf rock, Suzuki’s female-centered bildungsroman affects a happy-go-lucky atmosphere if only to mask a narrative that is as critical of the machinations of modern Japanese society as any of his bloodier yakuza films. The title refers to Carmen, Georges Bizet’s four-act opera of amour fou, but Suzuki and screenwriter Katsumi Miki tailor the story to the formative years of Tsuyuko, a fresh-faced runaway seeking new opportunities in Osaka but continually brushing up against casually exploitative men. Suzuki structures the film around each of Tsuyuko’s prolonged affairs and even indulges her subjective reveries and nightmares, though destabilizing ellipses keep her psychological development at arm’s length—all the better to distill the impact of her eventual epiphany, as well as the act of vengeance that follows. A complex snapshot of the pornography industry in 60s Japan and a virtuoso use of widescreen tableaux make this an eccentric finale to Suzuki’s “Flesh Trilogy.”