Teresa Reviews A Body for Breakfast (2019)
Teresa reviews A Body for Breakfast (2019), the last episode of season two of Les Petits Meurtres, and thought it a combination of fun and frustrating.
(Un Cadavre au petit dejeuner)
Original story
(c)2024 by Teresa Peschel
Fidelity to text: zero knives
This isn’t based on an Agatha story. It’s “inspired” by her, but only in the general way that murder mysteries everywhere these days are “inspired” by Agatha.
Quality of film: 3 knives
If you’ve ever wondered what a French interpretation of an Agatha-like mystery mixed with Bollywood singing and dancing looks like, wonder no more.
Read more of Teresa’s Agatha Christie movie reviews at Peschel Press.
Also, follow Teresa’s discussion of these movie on her podcast.
This is a weirdy. It is its own thing. It exists apart from the rest of Les Petits Meurtres although the songs frequently refer to events taking place over the previous 26 episodes of Season Two. It offers up a quasi-ending for Laurence, Marlène, and Avril’s story arcs. The rest of the gang get less of an ending. You also get a shout-out to Commissaire Larosière of Season One. His nephew, also a celebrated police inspector, shows up to take over Laurence’s job. As an added in-joke, he’s played by Antione Duléry but without the facial hair.
As in a classic Hollywood musical, the cast regularly breaks into song. Interestingly, the songs are period-appropriate; they sound like the kind of jazz standards Laurence would appreciate. No yé-yé here! The songs exist primarily to expand on a character’s emotional state, not to move the plot forward. If you listen carefully (or keep up with the English subtitles), you’ll catch multiple references to previous events in the series. This proves that there could have been more continuity in the series over the years.
You’ll also notice — if you’re reading English subtitles because you don’t understand French — that what rhymes or works in French can be decidedly odd in English. It appears the cast does their own singing, including Marlène. In the Christmas episode Le Crime de Noël (2017), she sang so horribly that people around her asked her to stop. Suddenly, she sings quite well and her previous caterwauling is forgotten.
Dancing happens, sometimes solo acts and sometimes involving everyone on the street as if they’d suddenly been struck by a magic wand turning them into Fred Astaire (1899-1987) and Ginger Rogers (1911-1995).
If you enjoy movie musicals and can accept their conventions, this episode will work, despite the criminally underwritten mystery and utter lack of character development, connections between characters, and explanations. Time that could have been spent this way was devoted to big production numbers. But even so, it’s a lot of fun.
If you hate movie musicals and loathe their artificiality, this episode will drive you mad. With each break in the action to watch Marléne sing about her grand passion for Laurence, Avril sing about her self-inflicted traumas, Laurence sing about how he should tell Marléne he’s leaving her for America, or any of the other many musical interludes you’ll focus like a laser beam on plot holes big enough for entire choruses to tap dance through them.
To spare non-musical fans, here’s the plot.
Laurence is so good at his job (and multilingual which you learned in episode 8, Pension Vanilos), he’s been invited to become the French liaison with the FBI in Washington, D.C. He can’t pass up this fantastic opportunity. But, it means leaving Marléne. He hasn’t told her. Everyone else in the Lille police department knows and thinks he’s an ass. His first scene shows him in a fancy hotel room with a new hot cookie. According to IMDB, she’s Sharon but you won’t hear her name spoken nor does she figure in the plot other than as Laurence’s current squeeze and possibly the woman he’ll take to America. Sharon does not figure in the mystery, wasting precious plot time. She exists to be disposed of.
Back at the office, Tricard, Carmouille, and Glissant tell Laurence he must tell Marléne or she’ll learn the hard way, when Commissaire Larosière shows up, taking his place. Meanwhile, Marlène is singing in her very pink, huge (remember episode 20? When she claimed she didn’t have the space to harbor a starving and abandoned child? She must have moved) shrine to Laurence. The walls are covered with his pictures from the previous 26 episodes. She sings about her adoration, accepting her fate as a worshipper from afar.
At the same time, Avril wakes up from another drunken one-night stand but this time she wakes up with a corpse instead of alone. She was blackout drunk so she doesn’t recognize the man in the plaid pants. But she does recognize her kitchen knife sticking out of his chest.
Comedy ensues as she calls Marlène in a panic. Laurence will solve this problem! Except Laurence is on his way out the door, to be replaced by the martinet, Commissaire Maurice Larosière. Despite being his nephew, Maurice must not have heard the story when Jean Larosière woke up next to a strangled prostitute and had to prove it was a frameup and clear his name (see episode 9 of Season 1).
Just like Avril must do now. But that episode wasn’t a comedy and didn’t involve busy bodies being moved around to musical accompaniment while concealing evidence.
Laurence accedes to Marlène’s request and soon involves Dr. Glissant and Tricard. But Arlette Carmouille is swayed by the new Larosière’s charms and decides to stick with law and order.
Laurence investigates while Larosière stalls. This is where the plot needed serious work. Laurence works out that Arthur Grignan, millionaire, hired a detective to research Avril and her background. It’s barely acknowledged that the knifed man in the plaid pants Avril discovers in her bed in the morning is the detective investigating her. What was he doing there while on a case? Is this more French-style detecting? Possibly not. I think what happened is Arthur Grignan’s wife, Isabelle, had her henchman drug Avril and the private detective. When the private detective got (carried?) Avril back to her flat, he collapsed on the bed next to her. The henchman slipped in, stabbed him — but not Avril because then we wouldn’t have a happy ending! — and left, locking the door behind him.
Why would Isabelle Grignan do this? Because Avril is Arthur’s long-lost daughter. If you’ve forgotten the details, back in episode 15, La Mystérieuse Affaire de Styles, Avril discovered her mother was Émilie Beauregard, wealthy spa owner. She had an affair with a hot violinist in 1933, resulting in a baby girl promptly abandoned at the orphanage. Somewhere along the way, Arthur the violinist morphed into a millionaire shoe manufacturer. When Émilie learned about Avril, she notified Arthur who ignored her letter. Twelve episodes later, he wants his little girl, his only child.
Wife Isabelle objects and in a three-dimensional moment, complains that she shouldn’t be punished because she couldn’t bear Arthur children. She shouldn’t lose any of that giant inheritance.
During Laurence’s investigation, Vivian, the private detective’s beehived secretary, gets coshed by an unknown assailant. I’ll spare you having to search the DVD frame by frame. It’s Simon, Isabelle’s henchman and the one who stabbed the private detective in plaid pants in Avril’s bed.
I think.
I’m not 100% sure because the real mastermind behind the diabolical plot to poison Arthur and get rid of Avril, his sole heir, is Isabelle’s lover. It’s not Simon the henchman, butler, and chauffeur. It’s Maurice Larosière. This is so poorly set up, it comes out of left field.
Then, after the big reveal, it’s off to the airport where Laurence and Sharon (who returned for the finale) are standing at the gate. What about Marlène and Avril? Avril’s now a rich heiress and daddy Arthur wants her to take his private jet to America, with Marlène for company. Does Laurence want to take Sharon to America? For whom he bought a ticket?
No, he dumps Sharon at the airport and flies off into the sunset with Marlène and Avril, without swearing undying love to Marlène. And that’s the end of Season Two!