What a mal week for the women of Spin.
No sooner has Appolline paid (someone else’s) $6000 for the goods on Clemence et al, than she’s kidnapped in quite the blaze of shooting and shooting, her chatty informant left dead in its wake. This would be bad enough, but her situation gets even worse when it comes clear she’s been taken by a bunch of Daesh fanboys who would happily deal with the French government, were the French government happy to deal with them, the only fly in the Oil of Olay being that Palissy de Justice actually is the French government to all intents and purposes, and he really wants her mort. It looks like he may have set the whole thing up for exactly that purpose but, either way, much as I dislike Appolline, the Daesh element (hostage videos, taking sadistic joy in unimaginable suffering and brutality – you know the drill) suddenly means that this sub-plot, which was only annoying before, is now just a little too close to real-life horrors, so I neither want to see nor even contemplate this woman’s death in this context, merci beaucoup.
As if Appolline sojourning in a Syrian terror camp isn’t horrifying enough, though, the spectre of Juliette also pays us a visit, materialising on Papa’s computer screen to his fond smile and my consternation. Mercifully, however, it’s over almost as quickly as Ludo’s weekly turn, my fears that la petite princesse may return in more corporeal form remaining unfounded for now. Which is just as well, since the show has more than enough to be getting on with in terms of irritating people doing irritating things already. Par example, now that the Marjorie/Parodie snaps are out, Simon, of all people, is apparently the most wounded by the whole business. Oui, he had one night of passion with Parodie, but his outrage seems somewhat hypocritical, given that his own history of cheating on his wife, sleeping with co-workers/employees, and lying about everything is worse than his boss’s. Of course, he reserves most of his ire for Clemence herself, which is both sexist and par for the course on Spin and dans la vie, but he’s also allowed to be surprisingly rude to Le Président about it as well, not to mention, once again, making most of the decisions about how to handle the situation on his behalf – the ones that involve hanging Clemence out to dry, at any rate.
Clemence herself, meanwhile, is finding that scandals are like buses – you wait years for one, then, well, tu sais. Having her affair with Le Prés splashed all over Flashmag is bad enough, but being charged with corruption, losing her job and finding out she has either a Mini-Kapita or a Mini-Marjorie on the way all adds up to a veritable Tsunami of trouble for her. And, since Spin is hardly above cliche, for Marjorie soon too, I should pense – une femme scorned, etc….
Unless, of course, that femme is Elisabeth Marjorie, who is something of a hypocrite herself. Having successfully got that poor girl in the Emirates 5 years and 100 lashes, it’s not till Madame Marjorie is back in Paris that she finds out what’s been going on, her homme having decided that hearing it by phone or reading it online in relative privacy would be a bad idée, but seeing it splashed across giant posters all over Paris would be significantly less traumatic.
Comme Kapita, Lis is outraged too, conveniently forgetting Amaury Desplantes and her own less than faithful history. A quick whiskey with Simon, however, and she’s back on board Le Présidential Express, giving one of those excruciating “we’ll get through this together” TV interviews we’ve all seen political wives do with their philandering husbands umpteen times before, for all the world as if his cheating is something that happened to them as opposed to something he did. The fact that it’s the closest Spin has come to reflecting the real world in years should probably be lauded, but it just makes the whole spectacle even more profoundly depressing. If anything, I’m significantly less surprised by the two women affected by the affair taking/ being given most of the responsibility and blame for it, than I am by how shocked the press and Simon are that the affair happened in the first place.
The only woman bucking the trend and having a thoroughly successful week, then, turns out to be Anne-Marie Carrere, for whom the Flashmag photos are like Bastille Day and Christmas rolled into one. Not only does she glide through morning TV, making political hay while the soleil shines, but she also gets to get it on with Ludo, in a scene which is spoilt somewhat by her taking a leaf out of Valentine’s livre and trying to eat his face first. Um…. Anyway, apart from the face-eating, Ludo getting busy with his boss is obviously great news for her, but wholly unsurprising for everyone else, except in that it’s shocking it hasn’t happened before now, and it’s astounding that it still doesn’t mean Gregory Fitoussi gets more than 90 seconds of screen time. FFS.
Not anywhere near as bad as last week’s series nadir, then, but still filled with people I don’t care for doing things that either bore or annoy me, Spin seems to be doing its very best to discourage those of us who’ve come this far from persevering to the end. With only trois episodes to go, though, this show is now my Everest. Will I make it? We shall see.