She is a seductress. So when you show up to put a spare tire on her car and she spontaneously asks you for more, you say yes. Her terms: pretend to kidnap her and keep the ransom money for yourself. Her banker husband is horrid, she says. Maybe she touches you for just a little longer than necessary. Leans in so you can smell her intoxicating skin, catch a glimpse down her low-cut dress.
She is out to lunch with the banker. As he pays the cheque, she goes outside for a smoke. Two minutes later, she’s disappeared. The kidnap plot is in motion. A photo of her bound and gagged is texted to the distraught banker, a demand for cash is made. But something goes wrong at the drop-off: fake kidnappings are more complicated than they seem. WAY more complicated.
This french-language movie is THICK with complications. Pea soup thick. Guacamole thick. Grandma’s cankles thick. Charlotte Le Bon, Romain Duris, and Jalil Lespert all put in stunning work; they are the beating pulse of this thing. In The Shadow of Iris is rich, compelling, fertile. The pacing is brisk. Lespert, also the director, pulls great performances out of his costars, necessarily since we don’t always have time for a buffer of motivation. But it’s smart and a little out of the way – a great Netflix find, if you ask me. Sex, money, intrigue, lots of naughty lingerie: what else do you want? No really. WHAT ELSE DO YOU FRICKING WANT?