I wouldn't call this piece brooding exactly, but it's hard to enjoy on a surface level. For the plot, you need hardly look further than the title: Michel spends a lot of time picking pockets. (I'm not surprised that the depiction of his authentic methods caused some international consternation in those days, but hey, nice to warn people what could happen to them.) He has reasons to want to quit, including a girlfriend who doesn't know what he does and a police force waiting to pounce on proof; but between his existing criminal network and some depressed desperation, it's not easy. Does this sound like enough to carry even 75 minutes?
Bresson made a point to hire previously unknown, possibly untrained actors, even declining to cast them again. I appreciate that; it helps us see them strictly as their present characters. But he took it a step further by rarely having them emote at all. Michel has tears streaming down his face at his mother's funeral, but otherwise he's still wooden. I've been OK with some amateur acting, because it ironically can feel realer; in this case, I'm not so sure.
Then again, Bresson seemed to like making the audience feel unsure. He defied a lot of filmmaking conventions, if not to the same extent as Vampyr. For example, music disappears for a long while and swells up seemingly at random, with no change in theme to match the mood of the scene. We miss out on a few big moments due to telling rather than showing. And the ending brings a sudden return to convention.
From the enduring cult popularity, I guess the subtle manipulation of our emotions works, giving a sensation of film noir without really conforming to that genre. That said, I could do with less subtlety. It shouldn't be so hard to tell at the time whether a director is a brilliant maverick or just a hack, nor whether you're perturbed in a good way or just a little bored. I might sooner take another chance on Luc Besson than on Bresson.
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