Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 6


“A woman in the shadows? She must be very well-hidden.”

Or not, given that Spin’s series finale was an attempt at ending on a female-friendly, if not exactly feminist, note. Yes, Marjorie wins le référendum, thanks to a last-minute assist from Deleuvre, but for all his talk of “taking back control” (which, in light of the toxic state of post-Brexit British politics, should really come with a trigger warning), there’s a palpable feeling that the old hommes’ time and power is limited. Deleuvre is already gone, thanks to Anne-Marie Carrere, and Marjorie, for all he might win a second term, is being managed, professionally by Prime Minister Helene, and personally by Clemence Parodi who it appears, much to Simon’s disgust, leaked her own pregnancy news to Flashmag and got tout she wanted as a result.

Anne-Marie herself, meanwhile, not wanting to risk Ludo getting a conscience and losing tout she wants, unceremoniously dumps him, leaving Gregory Fitoussi to walk ruefully into the Paris night, the wry ghost of a smile on his visage, and wonder what could have been if this show had stuck to its initial premise and focused on the rivalry between the masters of spin and the damage they can do, instead of getting mired in the Marjories’ mariage and everything else.

Speaking of the Marjorie mariage, Mme Marjorie ditches the big “Marianne Joly” photo op, her phone and her old vie, taking a flight to…. nobody knows where, which is odd since they have boarding passes and check-in and whatnot in French airports too, non? How can they know she was at the airport and not know which flight she took? Unless she doubled back and didn’t take a flight at… Oh, as if I care. Mme Marjore is gone! Enfin!

Appolline, though, is both everywhere and forever. Back in cahoots with le juge who’s back investigating Palissy (who literally drops dead at the prospect). Back writing about les issues, this time focussing on the increasingly bad-tempered Jenny from the Banlieu* and all the other Jennys out there. And now also at the centre of the somewhat chaotic intelligence op to apprehend Jenny/Aisha; this top priority terrorist is rarely more than a few feet away from all the agents hanging out outside her parents’ maison, apprehending her amie, tailing her former hostage, swarming her target at la gare, sitting waiting for her to wander up and shoot them – yet none of them ever seem to see her, let alone catch her, till Simon storms in, “saves” his ex by getting himself shot, and finally ends both his story and Jenny/Aisha’s, albeit in very different ways.

Si, Simon’s not dead, but he’s done; once he recovers from his entirely invisible bullet wound, he quits his job, much to Marjorie’s… lack of any strong feelings whatsoever? Le Prés makes some polite noises but, considering the election is supposed to be imminent, doesn’t seem overly bothered, making small talk instead about the possibility of une femme de l’ombre in Simon’s life, and ending the show with a quiet, patronising gémissement rather than the noisy coup threatened at the start of the season. The episode does seem to be about les femmes, who have been both horribly written and profoundly ill-served throughout the show’s three seasons, taking back control after a fashion, but since – with the possible exception of the conniving Clemence – they’re all completely insufferable, it’s hard to be pleased. Not that that’s anywhere near the top of my list of disappointments with Les Hommes de l’ombre, a show which promised a smart, stylish, sophisticated take on French politics and gave us, in the main, a plodding, ham-fisted, ineptly-subtitled and deeply frustrating one.

It’s not that this episode was bad – on the scale of saison 3 Spin episodes, it was actually a resounding…. okay – more that, like the show as whole, it ended up being nothing much of anything at all. I’m not at all disappointed Spin is finished, but I am disappointed in what it ultimately turned out to be. Not so much Les Hommes de l’ombre, as une ombre itself – a shadow of what I’d hoped for. A waste of a great premise in the Simon/Ludo rivalry, a waste of a huge opportunity to say something important at a time of massive political upheaval, and just generally a waste of my time – quel dommage.

*Merci to Jed for making me laugh with that one.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 5


It looks like the worst may be behind us as, with just one ep to go, Spin seems to have moved from truly awful to merely comme ci comme ça.

Focussing on les femmes, first – Appolline has a busy time of it this week, being rescued by French commandos, returning to the enthusiastic (the face-stroking is back!) embrace of Simon and his Petite Princesse, and filling French intelligence – no stopping them now Palissy’s “had to resign for medical reasons” – in on Jennifer/Ayesha’s activities. Jennifer/Ayesha herself is running around Paris up to no good, and not best pleased to hear that her charge is at large. Clemence Parodi is apparently so overwhelmed with love for Le Prés (come on) that she has to return to Paris to check out his soft furnishings (not a euphemism), argue with his wife and kiss him in front of windows some more, because nobody in this show ever learns ANYTHING. And despite Ludo’s misgivings – “it’s not the classiest” approach, he points out, and you know you have un problème when Ludo thinks something’s not classy – Anne-Marie goes full Alexis Carrington and outs Deleuvre by text message at some kind of right-wing Primary candidates’ assembly, which is horrible, sad and, given how nonchalant she is while doing it, slightly bizarre. In terms of both nonchalance and bizarreness, however, that scene has nothing on the subsequent one where Deleuvre walks up to La Carrere in the street, and slaps her across the visage, while Ludo just stands there looking non-plussed. I didn’t expect him to break out the judo moves, but not even an “Annie, are you ok?” Ludo? Vraiment?

Apart from Ludo, though, whom I expect just wants this to be over as much as I do, it’s all systems go for the rest of les hommes. Le Prés has a bone-achingly tiresome confrontation with his dreadful wife, having her dragged in by the Secret Service so he can ask her for a divorce then yelling at her because she agrees to it. (FFS, man, if you wanted the divorce to be in a couple of months, you should have waited a couple of months to ask her for it. Idiote.) Ban-Kapita Moon intervenes to secure peace in the Élysée once again, and possibly peace across the world with Marianne Joly the quid pro quo for the brief extension to the Marjorie marriage. Because somebody remembered this show is supposed to be about politics rather than the world’s least compelling marital woes, Marjorie and Simon then decide to distract from his love triangle problem, his third Prime Minister in three weeks problem *and* his trailing-in-the-polls-might-not-make-it-through-the-Primaries-problem by launching a referendum on massive constitutional change because that type of gamble always goes swimmingly for folk, n’est-ce pas? And, having been told not to pass go and certainly not to collect €200 on his way out of both his jobs, Palissy tries to shore up his alliance with Beaugendre who’s about as interested in that idea as I am. *Shrugs* You know I’m just here out of contrariness now. One to go!

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 4


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.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 3


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.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 2


In what might be the worst episode of Spin yet – this is a genuinely terrible hour of television – les writers, having made it abundantly clear that they’re going spend this season focusing on the mal parts of the show, distinguish themselves by doubling down on each and every one of them, and somehow managing to make everything that was already bad, much, much worse.

On the Kapita front, Simon’s in therapy in a scene which I’d say was lifted directly from The West Wing, but that would be defamatory. To The West Wing. After all, Josh Lyman never threw a bundle of cash onto his therapist’s desk like he wasn’t happy with the wine list and decided to take it out on the waiter.

Between woozy spells and inexcusable rudeness to medical professionals, however, Simon’s portfolio now seems to extend to running every aspect of Le Président’s life, be it personal or political. It’s Simon who decides how they’ll steal the PM’s thunder (not all that hard to do, in fairness); Simon who decides how they’re to deal with Madame Marjorie after last week’s International Rescue debacle; Simon who aborts that strategy and decides on another one when Madame Marjorie becomes (dear Dieu) some sort of Internet heroine and starts inexplicably quoting poetry en anglais; and Simon who decides what Le Prés himself is allowed to say about it. Or at least it’s Simon who tries to. A puréed cabbage might make a more convincing leader than Monsieur Marjorie, but it’s still something of a relief when he finally remembers who’s supposed to be in charge, and tells Simon to step off. Even if immediately following that up with “Are you coming?” somewhat dilutes the message.

In charge or not, though, Simon’s services are likely to be in even more demand next week, now that the cloud of e-cigarette smoke swirling around the Spin Secret Flat (the occupants and the illicit purpose may change every season, but I swear the flat is the same) has now parted to reveal Le Président in flagrante with none other than the object of Simon’s affections, Clemence Parodi. Scandale!

The awkward, clumsy Président-Parodi embrace is not a particularly jolie sight, but I suppose l should be thankful for their ungainly amourousness, since it at least gives Ludo something to do; delivering the photographic evidence to the very excited (and who can blame her? Gregory Fitoussi’s in her office!) femme at Flashmag is one of his two tasks this week, the other being ten-second seatwarmer for… Oh, who gives a French fondant? The only reason I’m still watching this show has about 90 seconds of screen time, during which he’s reduced to either courier or cushion. FFS. There have to be better ways of using the show’s meilleur asset, you guys. Come the eff on.

Especially since, to add insult to utterly baffling injury, while Ludo’s gone in a couple of blinks, nothing short of a blindfold and ear plugs for the entire episode is going to rid us of the unspeakable Elisabeth, or fellow “difficult wife” character Appolline. In fairness, the writing for women on this show might be sexist and awful, but it’s not lacking in screen time, is it? Elisabeth is in Every. Second. Scene, and as for Appolline…. Who could forget season one’s tiresome conspiracy field trip to Mali to investigate the “STATE FALSEHOOD”? The writers, apparently; they’ve now recycled the storyline and sent tv’s most irritating journalist (no, Simon, not la femme from Flashmag) to Lebanon to investigate the “PARODI FALSEHOOD”, a scoop which somehow manages to get both less interesting and less comprehensible the more we hear about it. And since Appolline’s source is très chatty, and the whole thing also seems to involve Palissy Junior – because now that we’re free of the wretched Juliette and her insanely creepy, pseudo-incestuous scenes with her dad, we really do need someone else’s appalling offspring to jump right in – we hear about it a LOT.

Malheureusement for moi, the turgid writing and ennui that overwhelms me any time anyone even mentions this plotline mean I have no idea what Parodi and/or Palissy Junior are actually supposed to have done but, given the show’s apparent fascination with the story, it seems the rest of the audience and I may be doomed to find out. Whether that will be in time to stop the new, utterly superfluous Palissy-Beaugendre alliance of evil is another matter, but, either way, I do wonder who will fight crime now Palissy de Justice is doing every other job in the government, and some of the opposition’s jobs too.

Sigh. What an episode. What a show. What am I doing with my life? There had better be beaucoup de Ludo in next week’s episode or I don’t think I’m going to make it to la fin.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s3 ep 1


We begin in deeply unsettling fashion with a convoy of official vehicles racing through a Parisian tunnel. Maybe it’s not meant to evoke the memories it does, maybe it is; either way, and since I knew going in that season three of Spin (like season one) was going to start with a significant public death, it’s a disturbing moment, but it turns out that even Spin isn’t crass enough to go there. Instead, the Marjories make it through the tunnel unharmed, and it’s Simon Kapita and the Minister for Parliamentary Reform(?) Clemence Parodi – a woman whom I initially thought might be Gabi from last season – who are at the epicentre of the tragedy, namely a radio station where a gunman shoots up the studio live on air, killing a high-profile Far Right candidate. At least I think he was a high-profile Far Right candidate – the combination of Spin’s usual terrible subtitling with my lack of knowledge of the French political system makes it something of a struggle to try and get a grip of who belongs to which party. I wouldn’t put any euros on me being right about any of them.

Alors. Simon and Clemence are understandably traumatised by the whole business, but the emotional impact of “We could have died!” and “All that blood!” is somewhat diluted by the segue straight into “Let’s crash right into each other and have sex tout de suite!” I laughed out loud, which I’m guessing is not the effect anyone was going for and which also means, in terms of sex with Simon at stressful moments, Clemence is pretty much Gabi from last season after all.

It’s back to business the matin after, though, as Clemence shifts back into work mode, unceremoniously swapping Simon for an immediate, wholesale change of the entire French voting system, because trying to alter the course of the nation’s destiny forever really could not wait till episode 2. *rolls yeux*

Malheureusment for Clemence and her big plan, however, since Simon spends most of the episode having woozy spells and hiding out in Ludo’s old office (now Simon’s new office?) in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid his appalling ex-wife, he’s not really up to doing too much politicking on her behalf. And nobody else thinks it’s a magnifique idea to be handing power to the far droit anyway, so the PM pulls a fast one, the bill tanks and poor Clemence is left wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

As Simon drinks and broods, and Clemence considers a new career, then, Madame Marjorie, er, walks repeatedly around the Palais in a series of dubious-looking pairs of slacks. Every few minutes, there she is – round a corner, up a staircase, along a corridor – wandering aimlessly into shot, looking either dazed or ready for a fight with Monsieur Le Prés, who is visibly wondering why this pair didn’t just split up at the end of season 2. Je ne sais pas pourquois, either, Alain, but it’s jamais too late.

Alors, again. Since she’s not getting any sort of satisfaction (or any sort of birthday present) from Le Prés, Mme Marjorie eventually gets bored with her route and changes things up by walking all the way to the UAE and involving herself in a stupendously daft rescue attempt, either because she’s looking for a more active role in foreign policy or because she’s an imbecile. *rolls yeux encore*

Thank goodness then for mon amour Ludo, who’s having a much more successful (if brief) time than the rest of these nitwits. With artfully unshaven visage and his own right-wing (je pense?) candidate Anne-Marie, the handsomest man on tv is poised to take full advantage of Morlaix’s death, not to mention full advantage of the fact that he looks like Gregory Fitoussi and she looks so like fellow Spiral alum Audrey Fleurot that for a moment I was confused about which French drama I was actually watching. If they’re not sleeping together yet, it can’t be long, non?

Not that Ludo and his cinq heures shadow get any more than a few minutes to woo us; a sneer from old frenemy Deleuvre, a few seconds plotting with Anne-Marie and he’s done for the week, which is disappointing but not unexpected given how under-used he was last season. And given time has to be found for two new shows-within-the-show, namely “Elisabeth Marjorie: International Rescue” and, most exciting of all, top new detective drama “Palissy de Justice.” You thought he was just the Minister for the Interior? Oh, non. While the intelligence agencies scratch their derrières, the French answer to Columbo cracks the assassination case wide open, working out the whos, the whys and the wherefores, and organising elegantly-choreographed SWAT raids all over the French countryside. Dude is so bien at fighting crime, he should get a gig on Spiral himself. And his entire storyline would have fit better there too, instead of taking up temps on a show which is supposed to be saying something important about French politics at a time when the entire planet’s future is in the balance, as opposed to doing a French version of Le Bill.

Sigh. As usual with Spin, this episode was rarely more than all right, and frequently much less than that. The political intrigue continues to lose so much in translation that I’m confused or bemused far too often; the Marjories’ relationship continues to take up an amount of screen time inversely proportionate to the interest anyone except the writers can possibly have in it (Mon Dieu, just GET. A. DIVORCE); and the insufferable Appolline continues to get way more to do than the indispensable Ludo, whose job description is actually in the name of the show. Something not right there, n’est-ce pas?

Public Service Announcement 12 of 2017: Blindspot, Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre)

Silly season has come a little early this year with two of Unpopcult’s favourite pieces of nonsense making their way back to UK screens this week.

Tonight (Thursday), 9pm on Sky Living, sees the return of season 2 of the gleefully bonkers Blindspot, which left off last time with REDACTED in terrible danger, the writers still trying to make fetch Roman happen, and everybody’s personal lives all over the shop. Will REDACTED survive? Who is the mole inside Sandstorm? Who is the mole inside Team Tat? And when will Jane and Weller bloody get over themselves and get back together? Declining US ratings mean this run might be the last chance to find out, but no matter: unpopcult will be watching and reviewing anyway. And hoping Rich Dotcom makes another appearance, because we flat-out love that guy.

In other “guys we love” (albeit in an entirely different way) news, meanwhile, my beloved Gregory Fitoussi is back in my tv life for the third and likely final season of Spin (Les Hommes de l’Ombre) – starting tomorrow on More 4 at 9pm. A political soap which is either a lot less clever than it thinks it is, completely hobbled by its ham-fisted subtitling, or more than likely both, the only two things keeping me watching are Gregory’s magnifique “villain” Ludo and how much fun we have talking about the show on unpopcult. I’m hoping the writers learned from the deeply disappointing season 2 that what we need is more Ludo not less, and that the awful Simon is really not all that, but we shall see – reviews every week as usual. À bientôt, j’espère.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s2 ep 6


Alors, mes amis, it’s season finale time (encore) and Simon is trying, unsuccessfully to get Juliette out of jail, but Palissy has croissants to eat and bigger poisson to fry: Appolline has to bury her story (which her editor/boyfriend wasn’t going to print anyway, so no big) or Daughter Dearest is going to be fitted for prison pyjamas.

Appolline is unpleasant (as usual) but compliant, but it still takes a vaguely threatening prod from Prés Marjorie to get Mlle Kapita released because Palissy is, je ne sais pas, enjoying flexing his Interior Minister muscles too much. Or something. It doesn’t matter, because all these people are awful, except perhaps Appolline’s editor/boyfriend who speaks for the entire audience when he declares “I’m sick of you making everything personal. It’s a pain in the arse.”

Give that man a spin-off.

As well as negotiating his own family worries, the weary Kapita also takes it upon himself to deal with the Marjories’; he agrees to Ludo’s terms in order to keep the Elisabeth story out of the press. Le Prés is having none of this, mind you; some of Benny’s truth-telling has clearly rubbed off on Monsieur Marjorie, so he gives both Simon and Gabi a proper, entirely justified telling-off for not coming to him in the first place instead of trying to hand Ludo the keys to L’Élysée behind his back.

Deal’s off, then, but not till after a mildly funny scene where Ludo’s assistant tells both her antsy boss and the bewildered Rose off, pointing out “He f***ed me too, promised me the world. And I still bring him his coffee!”

Heh. Virginie can be in the spin-off, too.

Unbeknown to both Ludo and Virginie, however, after Benny’s visit and her (wo)man in the mirror moment in the bathroom last week, Rose has swapped sides again, stealing the file of doom and delivering it back into Benny’s hands. Having spent the day reminiscing with Lis about how much they miss Le Prés, Benny is in pensive mood when his ex shows up but snaps out of it just long enough to burn the file and break the good nouvelles to Simon, much to the latter’s relief. Of course, at no time do any of these geniuses consider the possibility that Ludo might have MADE A COPY. (Or got Xerox Girl to do it for him.) But I guess we’re not supposed to consider that either, so whatevs. The file is gone. And so, sadly is Benny, who REDACTS himself in a strange, somewhat incongruous turn of events that neither seems character nor plot-driven, but just sort of happens in the middle of the finale to give Lis and Le Prés yet another thing to be miserable about. As if they needed one.

Poor Rose is obviously tres sad herself, but as un parting cadeau, fills Kapita in on the Ludo/Deleuvre goss and her own change of heart. “Ludovic is a bastard,” she admits, “I knew it deep down, but he made me giddy.” Girl. MOI AUSSI.

An excited Simon then gallops round to Delboy’s to secure his promise in blood not to say anything, because Simon – who apparently missed season 1 – doesn’t think Delboy’s “the type” to use the info against the Marjories but does think he’s the type to respond to PR men being bizarrely rude to him about it. Luckily for Simon, Delboy is in devious plan mode, and hatches a scheme with him to fire Ludo from the company that NEITHER OF THESE GUYS WORKS FOR, and Ludo either doesn’t fight it at all or plans to fight it later or I have absolutely no idea because this show and its dialogue/subtitles are stupid and “I’ll send you my Counsel” doesn’t tell me rien.

There was a time when Simon and Ludo fighting over stuff like this was the entire raison d’être of the show, but this season the focus has shifted somewhat so that Ludo is basically relegated to mosquito status; he pops up every now and again, buzzes around angrily for a minute or two, then somebody swats him. Which means that not only has Gregory Fitoussi been criminally under-used, but we’ve spent a lot of time on the challenges facing both the Marjorie government and the Marjorie marriage. It’s still a little surprising how much of the finale is devoted to both, mind you.

Le Prés does a lot of largely pointless brooding over whether to assassinate Bakian and Wahid; since the plan presented somewhat improbably involves zero casualties and unanimous agreement from everyone in the Situation Salle, those scenes seem like a waste of time. Either have a proper moral discussion, with people taking different sides and being genuinely conflicted about it and nobody feeling too comfortable with the outcome either way, or just go do your assassinating and save the screen time for something else.

By “something else”, though, I don’t mean a lengthy excerpt of Berenice: I understand the point was to save on writing yet more dialogue and use the libretto to cover the Marjories’ marriage turmoil instead, but it went on way too long and told us nothing we didn’t already know. Will the Marjories stay together? Will this “STATE FALSEHOOD” go the way of last season’s and just fizzle away into nothing? Will any of these people be in season 3? I don’t think I really care, either way.

There’s been something lacking in Spin from the start (the subtitling didn’t help, either) and while this season was better written than the latter half of the first one and didn’t have the appalling Valentine in it, it’s still been weirdly simplistic, disjointed and too often dull for something purporting to be so sophisticated. Take Simon randomly declaring “I think I love you, Gabrielle.” I live for this sort of thing in my tv, but it was so clunky and out-of-place for that particular scene and that particular moment, that I rolled my eyes instead of getting remotely excited. And me rolling my eyes has been my reaction to far too much of the show since it started. I wanted and expected better from Spin, but sadly it never materialised.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s2 ep 5


“Blackmail” is the name, and “Blackmail” is the, er, game of this week’s penultimate episode of Spin, as half the cast threaten the other half of it with exposure of all the big secrets of the season.

Bakian’s secret – that he’s a BAD homme – is already out, of course, but he just shrugs off his French surveillance (much to the chagrin of Le Prés, who spends the entire ep in a fury about France not being top of the diplomacy pops any more), goes on a Grand Tour of North Africa, and sends his lawyer to try and pressure Gabrielle into calling off les chiens or risk losing both petit Victor and her job.

For someone who works in politics, the Secretary General of L’Elysee is pretty easily freaked by a dude who wears a cravat. Since she and Simon are fighting, and he’s too busy thinking ’bout his baby daughter, he ignores Gabi’s 911 call, but when she turns up at work the next day in such a tizz that the hair is DOWN(!), he relents, takes her into the Blue Salon and…. gives her some really sensible advice which actually helps. Hurrah!

Simon’s reward for this is, of course, a whole lotta lovin’. Or at least it would have been, had it not been his wretched daughter’s turn to interrupt the resumption of diplomatic relations with Gabrielle and give us a cliffhanger by getting herself arrested for terrorism offences. FFS. “I’m a journalist,” she protests. Without a press card. Or an employer. Um….

La pomme doesn’t appear to have fallen far from l’arbre, mind you: “I’m not a vengeful idiot, I’m a journalist!” yells the appalling Appolline, having a rare old time yelling at Simon and pretending to care about the truth for most of the ep. (Athough presumably she’ll care about it a lot less next week if Palissy makes her choose between the precious truth or her imbecile kid’s freedom).

Neither Simon nor the audience is fooled, though, correctly identifying that Appolline’s obsession with exposing the hostage negotiations is more to do with punishing her ex than edifying her public. Punishing him for what isn’t entirely clear, though. I mean, Simon’s a terrible husband who cheated on her and moved continent, sure, but she knew that last season and didn’t seem too wound up about it. Why the sudden rage now? And the bizarrely aggressive jealousy? As our friend Bill commented on last week’s thread, Appolline seems to have become a totally different person from last season. And I don’t just mean the actress playing her.

At least Ludo is still his usual dastardly self, though. After last week’s non-event, Gregory Fitoussi is back, all ruthless and seductive and manipulative and whatnot, although Xerox Girl Rose (per our friend Moore) is so unbelievably stupid, he barely has to bat his eyelashes before she’s stealing secret files and cheerfully handing over – DUN DUN DUN! – the goods on Elisabeth and the car accident cover-up.

A couple of completely gratuitous topless scenes later and even Rose has realised her new boyf’s motives might not be entirely benign, but it’s too late. “Mon petit Ludovic” dashes off to Deleuvre, feverishly clutching his precious file, excitement all over his wee face…. Only for Delboy – who sought him out and specifically tasked him with bringing down the Marjorie government, let’s not forget – to get all pious and “You and I are finished” about it. “I don’t understand!” says the bewildered Ludo. Me neither, cheri. As we’ve said before, Deleuvre was fine with exposing Anne Visage as the President’s mistress last season so where has all this “we don’t reveal intimate fuck-ups in public” gallantry suddenly come from?

Huh. Perhaps Deleuvre got his new scruples from the same place Appolline got her new rage. Or maybe he borrowed them from Simon. Monsieur Kapita is, of course, saddened and outraged when a slightly crazed Ludo tries to use the file to run him out of town. “You’d throw a woman to the dogs, sully a President of the Republic, just to get back at me?” he asks sorrowfully. “It’s more than that!” protests Ludo, and do I have Fitoussis in my eyes or is he right? Not about the “Paris isn’t big enough for both of us” nonsense, of course, but, for all Simon and Deleuvre’s protests that this is just nasty gossip about one woman’s private life, we are actually talking about – sorry – a STATE FALSEHOOD, here. Remember how angry you were about last season’s government conspiracy, Simon? Or does the truth only matter if the liars are on the other team?

Elisabeth Marjorie was driving way too fast. Amaury Desplantes died as a result. Mme Marjorie should have been arrested and investigated and potentially prosecuted for it, but instead her husband and his government covered it up. They neutered the investigation, falsified the reports, and protected her from prosecution. That’s not an “intimate fuck-up,” that’s corruption.

Don’t get me wrong: Ludo’s motives are obviously as personal and obnoxious as Appolline’s. But if everybody else could stop pretending that this particular scandal is a private one, and they’re wearing white chapeaux when they’re really just hypocrites, that would be magnifique.

Spin (Les Hommes de l’ombre) s2 ep 4


Amour is in the air!

An international hostage situation, a grey-faced embarrassment of a President who spends the entire ep shouting, twitching and groaning, and an ex on a mission to expose top secret negotiations out of what seems to be spite…. there’s beaucoup going on at l’Élysée this week, even if it’s all ridiculous. As far as unpopcult’s concerned, though, the big nouvelles is of course Gabrielle and Simon getting very close indeed.

We all knew it was coming at some point, but the signs that this was la semaine were unmistakeable: the ride home together and the understandably irresistible “I have some frozen meals if you fancy it” (the gourmet capital of the world, mesdames et messieurs) invitation are clear enough signals, but it’s the long-awaited release of Chekhov’s cheveux from their barrette prison that seals the deal. Or it would have, if Gabi’s kid – like every other kid on tv – hadn’t picked the crucial moment to yell plaintively for “Maman!”

Simon and Gabi may look wryly amused, but I’d have been furieux.

La Secretary-General will not be deterred though. After another hard day at the office, she’s not risking any more moptop-related interruptions: “I’m tired. Victor’s staying at a friend’s,” she announces to Simon who has no trouble understanding exactly what this means, et voila! The kid’s safely out of the way, the hair’s back down and the clothes are nowhere to be seen.

Of course, because Simon can’t have sex with anyone without then doing something appalling, he decides to ruin the mood by confronting Gabrielle about the circumstances of Victor’s adoption while she’s still in her lingerie, which makes me wonder a) what business it is of his and b) what the eff is wrong with him. Could judging her for her life choices not have waited till the next day when the hair was back in the barrette and the woman was back in the skirt suit, instead of her underwear?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Simon is a jerk. The jury’s out, however, on whether he, his daughter or his ex-wife are worse. Having left her 25 – TWENTY-FIVE – voicemail messages (because dealing with an ongoing international incident with dozens of lives at stake means plenty of time to stalk one’s offspring), he is overjoyed in that annoying, judgmental parent-y way to see Juliette again, till he realises she’s just popped home to wangle some info out of him, wind him up a bit and wave him goodbye. The pair of them then proceed to deal with this in the most obnoxious and inappropriate fashion possible; they end up shouting in each other’s faces, in the kind of desperately close, emotionally-charged scene that usually ends up in a wildly passionate kiss in tv drama and should never, under any circumstances, takes place between father and daughter because EWWWWW.


The entire Kapita family seems to have a screw loose, mind you, since Apolline insists, despite the protestations of her editor/boyfriend, on ignoring the journalistic code, flying to Tripoli on her own franc, and – somehow – gathering all the info on the back-channel Bakian negotiations to free the hostages, because nobody puts Apolline in a corner. Or something. Her single-mindedness in pursuit of a story is nothing new, but there’s something personal in her threat to Simon at the end of the episode. This isn’t about the truth, it seems to be about revenge, although it’s not clear why or on whom.

With all this emotional intrigue going on, it’d be easy to ignore the actual politicking, but the writers manage to squeeze in some nefarious double-crossing, two offscreen (and therefore very budget-friendly) military interventions, a curiously under-motivated terrorist, and a surprisingly genuine couple of scenes between President Grumpy-Guts and the faithful Benny from Crossroads, who, having been rescued from a life of beer cans and mud-coloured T-shirts by Simon, comes back to dispense un peu tough love to his dearest, daftest ami. Who knew Benidorm et Le Prés would have the deepest, most/only convincing love on the show?

Not Rose, who has no idea where her husband is, and phones Ludo instead. “Come over,” he says, huskily. Which sounds very promising, but is cut off somewhat abruptly since that’s pretty much all he says. I don’t know qui thought Victor’s backstory getting more screen time than Gregory Fitoussi was a good plan, and that we’d rather see Simon in flagrante than Ludo in any situation at all, but that person really needs to pense again.