Few characters are as intriguing as the gentleman thief. The idea of a genius that stays one step ahead of the game stealing from the rich with finesse is one of the most enjoyable crimes to witness.
In the case of Lupin, we now enter the third season of Netflix’s global French hit which propelled its star, Omar Sy, to international stardom. For fans needing a reminder of where we left off: Sy’s Assane Diop was inspired by the classic French story of master of disguise and world-renowned cat burglar Arsène Lupin. Diop’s father was framed by his employer, the mogul Hubert Pellegrini, for the theft of a priceless necklace and met an untimely end which essentially orphaned young Assane (his mother is estranged). As an adult, he sought revenge and ended season two having largely succeeded. Pellegrini (Hervé Pierre) is dragged away by police from a fundraising concert he intended to embezzle money from, and his late father’s name is cleared. Still, all was not entirely resolved as he had to bid farewell to his wife Claire (Ludivine Sagnier) and son Raoul (Etan Simon). With the police unwilling to forgive his suave subterfuge, vengeance came at a cost.
Screenwriter George Kay may have left himself with a limited number of loose ends, and Lupin’s second season could have worked as a solid conclusion. But its third proves just as thrilling, with the sort of breathtaking twists that lend themselves to a binge-watch that lasts until dawn. Even though he remains dozens of steps ahead of the authorities, Diop will not rest upon his laurels. One year on, France’s most wanted returns to Paris willing to risk it all to pull off one last job and spirit his family away to a luxurious life out of reach of the justice system. This being Lupin, things don’t go as planned, leading to a series of twists and heists it would be criminal to unveil.
It’s a taut affair, with just seven episodes to cover an intense emotional arc that sees a Black man break apart the intergenerational trauma that could engulf his own son’s life. But the Netflix budgets have also extended enough to provide born action star Sy with sequences that make you question if the next James Bond could be Black and French. His suave air lends itself to the show’s kinetic cinematography, but more importantly, you genuinely believe he has the gall to outwit all who stand in his way.
There are a few janky moments. Some of Diop’s use of technology is questionable, and our “master of disguise” appears in a blond wig that Dennis Rodman would call out for being a bit much. But the disguises have satirical bite: for the authorities, Black men are considered so interchangeable that simply putting on a cheap wig leaves them totally bamboozled.
The third season proves its bloodiest and boldest instalment, with eyes set on a priceless black pearl. And it’s not just that in play: after years of focusing on Daddy issues, Diop has to confront the scars his mother left on his psyche. The series flashes back to the 90s to uncover more about his parents’ absence, which left him at the mercy of a twisted boxing coach.
More than anything, Lupin has become a folk hero. He is able to charm and convince all he encounters into thinking of crime as an insidious social construct that primarily exists to serve the unscrupulous 1%. The idea of Lupin, the idea of Assane Diop and the idea of Arsène Lupin are more than just the consequences for a single man; it’s about confronting the broken system around us and revelling in the fantasy of not playing by its rules. We need an anti-hero to believe in, and Lupin provides that in spades.
Lupin is on Netflix now
