It's Never Happened Before, Except Once
Many Britons have an aversion to subtitles. I've yet to decide whether this is because of foreign language films having a (unfounded) reputation in the UK for being 'poncy' or, more likely, because of sheer laziness. Regardless, Channel 4's purchase of the rights to air Les Revenants (The Returned, for non-French speakers), a subtitled drama, was considered a bold move, and one that has largely paid off, with over a million Brits tuning in to the season finale last night.
The Returned centres around a small town in France whose previously dead occupants are coming back to life, hungry, unable to sleep, and having not aged or decomposed in the slightest. Typically for a European show, only one or two of the characters are particularly likeable, and several are just downright creepy - Pierre, Victor, Lucy, Mme. Costa - but their interactions carry enough meaning and suspense to maintain interest and keep people guessing. Who knows more than they're letting on? Are their motives benevolent or altogether more sinister? And was there a subtext to that conversation, that look, or am I simply reading too much into it?
Calling it a cross between The X-Files and Twin Peaks doesn't exactly do it justice, but there's the same element of mystery and intrigue, and even fear, ramped up to terrifying levels by Mogwai's haunting soundtrack. It's full of symbolism and the cinematography is sublime, and there are some truly shocking revelations, albeit none that explain what the hell's going on; cue season two. Had the finale offered more in the way of answers to even some of the dozens of questions posed throughout the series, it would certainly have had my vote for show of the year; as it stands, I worry that it will become another Lost. But don't let that put you off: it's a shining example of good filmmaking, of how to slowly increase tension, of how to create weird and wonderful characters, and if you don't mind the lack of resolution I'd heartily recommend it.
The Returned centres around a small town in France whose previously dead occupants are coming back to life, hungry, unable to sleep, and having not aged or decomposed in the slightest. Typically for a European show, only one or two of the characters are particularly likeable, and several are just downright creepy - Pierre, Victor, Lucy, Mme. Costa - but their interactions carry enough meaning and suspense to maintain interest and keep people guessing. Who knows more than they're letting on? Are their motives benevolent or altogether more sinister? And was there a subtext to that conversation, that look, or am I simply reading too much into it?
Calling it a cross between The X-Files and Twin Peaks doesn't exactly do it justice, but there's the same element of mystery and intrigue, and even fear, ramped up to terrifying levels by Mogwai's haunting soundtrack. It's full of symbolism and the cinematography is sublime, and there are some truly shocking revelations, albeit none that explain what the hell's going on; cue season two. Had the finale offered more in the way of answers to even some of the dozens of questions posed throughout the series, it would certainly have had my vote for show of the year; as it stands, I worry that it will become another Lost. But don't let that put you off: it's a shining example of good filmmaking, of how to slowly increase tension, of how to create weird and wonderful characters, and if you don't mind the lack of resolution I'd heartily recommend it.