I haven't seen every zombie show ever made. I haven't seen every horror show ever made. Nonetheless I'm pretty sure this is the best ever made, on the simple basis that it's inconceivable there could be better.
Action? There is little. Gore and violence? Again, little. What there is, is slow-burning weirdery by the bucketload. And character! In spades!
We are loosely based around the broken Seguret family, with the despairing, obsessed Jerome, unable to let go of his dead daughter; the similarly-tortured Claire, seeking unsatisfying solace in the splendidly-sinister Pierre; the terrified surviving twin, Lena (is Jenna Thiam the most beautiful woman ever to take to large or small screen? This reviewer believes so); and into this maelstrom of despair walks the four-years-dead Camille, Jerome and Claire's daughter and Lena's sister.
And there's the rest of the ghastly cast! Where to start? We have the tortured, scarred district nurse Julie, adopting the strange waif Victor with his haunting demeanour and sinister powers. The knowing, clairvoyant traveller Lucy, whose powers manifest only when she's having sex. The creepy police chief Thomas, constantly watching the entire town (and more) through a vast wall of screens, and whose life with Adele and her young daughter Chloe is threatened by the re-appearance of Adele's former fiancee, Simon. And, for goodness' sake, there is Serge: terrifying, psychopathic, cannibalistic serial killer. Dead, but not dead, and battling for survival against his desperately sad brother Toni who is trying to put an end to Serge's shocking crimes.
Over all this looms haunting mountain scenery, in reality around the town of Annecy in the French Alps. Many of the settings (including the iconic Lake Pub, and the incongruous American Diner) are entirely real, and this sadly-obsessed reviewer has visited them. I have even sought and found the utterly, utterly chilling Helping Hand refuge (as run by the aforementioned spine-tinglingy-sinister Pierre), high in the tiny mountain roads above Annecy.
There is also a back-story, relentlessly but mysteriously dropping hints about dams and death and tragedy, manifesting in the present through falling water levels, drowning wildlife, intermittent power and fleeing hydroelectric workers.
And if little, calm, dangerous Victor seems to hold the key to all of this horror and weirdness, well so he does: but that's a story for the equally-brilliant season 2, and I'll say nothing more so as not to spoil season 1, except that season 2 finishes cleverly, tying up enough loose ends to be satisfying but leaving plenty unexplained and a massive hook upon which to hang season 3.
Sadly it is not to be. In the UK, Les Revs gained the largest audience ever for a sub-titled show but, it seems, it was a commercial flop in its native France, hence there will be no more. Shame.
Finally, we can't review this series without commending the magnificent score from the Scottish band Mogwai. Every track is perfect for the scene it accompanies, and so splendid is the haunting music that we purchased the album and it's become a firm favourite in our collection.
Action? There is little. Gore and violence? Again, little. What there is, is slow-burning weirdery by the bucketload. And character! In spades!
We are loosely based around the broken Seguret family, with the despairing, obsessed Jerome, unable to let go of his dead daughter; the similarly-tortured Claire, seeking unsatisfying solace in the splendidly-sinister Pierre; the terrified surviving twin, Lena (is Jenna Thiam the most beautiful woman ever to take to large or small screen? This reviewer believes so); and into this maelstrom of despair walks the four-years-dead Camille, Jerome and Claire's daughter and Lena's sister.
And there's the rest of the ghastly cast! Where to start? We have the tortured, scarred district nurse Julie, adopting the strange waif Victor with his haunting demeanour and sinister powers. The knowing, clairvoyant traveller Lucy, whose powers manifest only when she's having sex. The creepy police chief Thomas, constantly watching the entire town (and more) through a vast wall of screens, and whose life with Adele and her young daughter Chloe is threatened by the re-appearance of Adele's former fiancee, Simon. And, for goodness' sake, there is Serge: terrifying, psychopathic, cannibalistic serial killer. Dead, but not dead, and battling for survival against his desperately sad brother Toni who is trying to put an end to Serge's shocking crimes.
Over all this looms haunting mountain scenery, in reality around the town of Annecy in the French Alps. Many of the settings (including the iconic Lake Pub, and the incongruous American Diner) are entirely real, and this sadly-obsessed reviewer has visited them. I have even sought and found the utterly, utterly chilling Helping Hand refuge (as run by the aforementioned spine-tinglingy-sinister Pierre), high in the tiny mountain roads above Annecy.
There is also a back-story, relentlessly but mysteriously dropping hints about dams and death and tragedy, manifesting in the present through falling water levels, drowning wildlife, intermittent power and fleeing hydroelectric workers.
And if little, calm, dangerous Victor seems to hold the key to all of this horror and weirdness, well so he does: but that's a story for the equally-brilliant season 2, and I'll say nothing more so as not to spoil season 1, except that season 2 finishes cleverly, tying up enough loose ends to be satisfying but leaving plenty unexplained and a massive hook upon which to hang season 3.
Sadly it is not to be. In the UK, Les Revs gained the largest audience ever for a sub-titled show but, it seems, it was a commercial flop in its native France, hence there will be no more. Shame.
Finally, we can't review this series without commending the magnificent score from the Scottish band Mogwai. Every track is perfect for the scene it accompanies, and so splendid is the haunting music that we purchased the album and it's become a firm favourite in our collection.