Perhaps my expectations were lowered by the first three episodes. Or maybe my faculties have been bludgeoned into submission by Elisabeth Marjorie: International Rescue and Palissy de Justice. Either way, having put it off for the best part of a week, I was pleasantly surprised when I caught up with this week’s Spin. Which is not to say it was bon, exactly, more that it was basically all right. Which makes it a definite step up for this season.
Given that Clemence kicks things off by having her ultrasound right in front of a massive, curtain-free window (people having secret affairs in front of windows and not drawing the curtains is, as Jed pointed out a couple of weeks ago, daft enough, but people having secret ultrasounds in front of windows and not drawing the curtains seems almost criminally stupid) and her doctor makes a point of promising her total discretion, it’s pretty obvious how things are going to go. Et oui, news of the pregnancy gets to La Flashmag Femme quicker than you can say “Tiens!” but, oddly, instead of rushing to confirm, protect then publish her scoop on line, LFF summons Ludo – who, till the euro drops, is adorably confused as to why he’s being asked to look at a baby scan – who tells various folk, then Simon who also tells various folk so, by the time LFF finally gets round to publishing her “exclusive”, half of France already knows. Including Le Prés himself who, having learned absolutely nothing from anything that’s happened thus far, maintains everything’s going to be bien and snogs Clemence out in the street; and Elisabeth, who goes full red-wine mist and announces it at a state dinner with the British PM. Charmant.
Contrary to Le Prés’s promises, of course, everything is most certainly not going to be bien, unless you’re Anne-Marie Carrere, who is not just bien but positively orgasmic – in more than one way – about the whole business. Her screaming “I want them all to respect me!” and other such worthy sentiments in the middle of a sex scene with her campaign manager is both ridiculous and hilarious, and makes me wonder what Spin would have been like if it hadn’t taken itself so seriously and embraced its inner “Dynasty” instead.
But let’s not dwell on what could have been. We can leave that to Simon, who’s never more nostalgic about his marriage to Appolline than when she’s abroad somewhere in dire straits. Luckily for all of us – *rolls eyes* – though, his other favourite femme, La Petite Princesse Juliette, dashes back from New York, works out Palissy’s behind it all and generally achieves more in about cinq minutes than she has in the past deux seasons, so she gets a pass for once. Until she and her Papa get all hypocritical and holier-than-thou about gossip mags in general: “They’ve polluted the media and putrefied politics”, says the daughter of the spin doctor. Righto. But unlike Le Président or you, Simon, Flashmag hasn’t compromised their position by having an affair with a subordinate and lying about it, so maybe dial down the self-righteousness un peu, eh?
Thankfully, however, it’s not just Juliette’s attitude that’s contagious, but also her sudden bout of efficiency. Since there are only deux episodes to go till the series finale, Palissy quietly shuts down the school investigation, and Simon quietly shuts down Palissy, telling Le Prés what Appolline (and Juliette) found out. Because a man is now saying it’s ok (FFS), Le Pres finally lets the nameless intelligence agency woman (who’s been desperate to get involved for weeks but has been stymied at every turn by Marjorie’s reliance on Palissy) step up and do her job. Since it’s too late for negotiations, though, we’re going back to an old-style (ok, season 2) commando raid on the compound where Appolline’s being held, and, I would imagine, a race against time to save Paris from “Jennifer” just to liven things up before we say adieu to Spin forever. Watch this space, mes amis. We’re nearly there.