After the thrillers drawn from the writings of Harlan Coben, the streaming giant has looked into another polar adaptation, His true face, a series created by Charlotte Stoudt, screenwriter, and producer who passed by Homeland, from work eponymous by Karin Slaughter. But despite its attractive cast, especially Toni Collette in the lead role, this new Netflix thriller is more boring than breathtaking. You’d better play casino Canada…
WHO’S BAD?
As the title suggests, Her True Face seeks to unmask Laura Oliver (Toni Collette), a seemingly quiet fifty-year-old who ends a restaurant shootout by slitting the shooter’s throat with too much ease for it to be a mere providential reflex.
The news item does not take long to attract the attention of the media, who praise her heroism, but also of several people who are personally after her.
Could she be a criminal on the run? A threatened woman on the run? A secret CIA agent? A professional hitman? A new Sarah Connor? In any case, she is certainly not the uneventful speech therapist she claims to be, and her daughter Andy wants to find out.
The starting point agreed, but a priori effective, is therefore very similar to that of A History of Violence by David Cronenberg. The comparison ends there, however, with one being a memorable film and the other a forgettable series.
Even if the premise of the plot draws its contours, His true face is not the thrilling – or at least entertaining – thriller that one might expect. Closer to the insipid pastiche, even the involuntary caricature of the genre, the scenario copies the classic codes of a thriller: investigation, detective substitute, treasure hunt, spinning, and pretense.
To falsify the tracks, he also draws on the more cliché imagery of gangster or spy films, as with the typical shot of identity cards with different names stashed in a briefcase full of cash.
But in vain since the plot unravels its biggest knots after only a few episodes. She then lazily uncovers Laura’s not-so-interesting past through lengthy flashbacks (along with some more skilfully used archival footage) that take over from Andy’s investigation more than they illustrate.
Once the first episodes have unveiled the main pieces of the puzzle and pointed out the gray areas surrounding Laura, the series therefore quickly loses vitality. It struggles to maintain the suspense and perplexity essential to ensure a rhythmic rhythm and guarantee the involvement of the public. The twists and revelations then become more and more predictable and, therefore, less playful or amusing.
The shelving of the action scenes, the extended shots, and the endless silences between the lines accentuate a little more the hypotension and the anemia of the scenario, more amorphous than melancholic.
Same observation for the realization of Minkie Spiro, certainly without outrageous blunders, but without brilliance or bias strong enough to support the few moments of tension, confusion, or uneasiness.
There remains the denouement, the last big obligatory twist sewn with white thread, which at least allows the series to go to the end of its marked path and to give an end to the story, thus sparing us the need for a season 2 (although the ending remains open to a sequel).
WHO’S YOUR MOMMY?
By revealing Laura’s true identity so early, the series tries to move closer to the cross-generational family drama and refocus on the tumultuous relationship of its two main characters.
Except that the emotion struggles to take off, Andy is just an empty shell who is content to twist his three poor personality traits to meet the momentary needs of the scenario, whether playing the frightened deer, the eternal teenager in crisis, or the hothead in lack of adrenaline.
Andy is a handy screenplay tool to move the story forward. It applies to all the secondary characters that actors Joe Dempsie, Terry O’Quinn, Omari Hardwick, David Wenham, or Gil Birmingham can hardly deviate from their roles. type despite all their goodwill.
Like the others, Andy is content with a summary characterization. If the actress Bella Heathcote manages with the little material she has to give it a minimum of consistency and relief, this one does not summon any sympathy. or empathy on the other side of the screen.