2024-03-02 16:46:00
Spectacular, the actress plays an autocrat as irascible as she is anxious, soon to be under the control of a neo-Rasputin, in a satire which plays on terror but lacks a little bit of bite.
“My dear fellow citizens, there was a time when I was anxious, lethargic, crushed by the weight of modern life. That was before I unleashed the ancient power of the potato. Today, the healing powers of potato steam make me stronger, more balanced and happy than ever.” While Chancellor Vernham’s absurd official address resonates, the camera navigates with gravity between the baskets of tubers arranged throughout the marbled aisles of the palace which she rules with an iron fist. The Regime examines the reign of a cyclothymic tyrant played by Kate Winslet at the head of an imaginary country in Eastern Europe, probably north of Syldavia. A satire which manages in a few minutes to restore this mixture of devastated dismay and worried hilarity that Trump, Putin or Kim Jong-un can provoke.
Hypochondria and paranoia
By highlighting the whims of a diva and the inconstancy of a head of state who defines her diplomacy through tweets, The Regime uses ridicule as bait. We laugh at the formalities of this Absurdistan, at the supreme uselessness of the group of oligarchs who flatter this great leader whom a loufiat in charge of controlling the humidity level follows everywhere to prevent any fungal invasion. Then it appears that these eccentric manias testify to a deep disorder, hypochondria mixing with serious paranoid disorders. Rather than humor, it is fear that shapes The Regime. To the – obvious – terror aroused by the irascible chancellor is added that which grips him behind the scenes, Vernham being subject to terrible anxiety attacks focusing on the most immaterial object there is: the air. The very act of breathing, in other words of living, would be made perilous by an environment deemed too humid (or too dry). Under the public figure, omnipotent, flamboyant and glamorous, a girl tortured by the specter of her father, the previous regent whose remains she keeps under cover to defy her as much as seek her approval.
An inverted dependency relationship
It is in this play of split masks that all the beauty of the series lies. Spectacular, Kate Winslet seems both freewheeling in her dictatorial panoply and in perfect mastery of this underground Vernham which shines through under the wigs, sneaks into the strange diction of the actress, who speaks with her mouth. half closed, as if paralyzed. Winslet devours all the oxygen around her, leaving little room for the little dim man who serves as her husband (Guillaume Gallienne). Alone on stage until this air control attendant (Matthias Schoenaerts) reveals himself, a borderline soldier torn from his regiment who in turn becomes his confidant, his sports coach, doctor and nutritionist. A neo-Rasputin gradually reversing the relationship of dependence. But next to this disturbing and amusing duo, nothing more exists. The satire of The Regime ultimately does not scratch much (American imperialism, the megalomania of autocrats, the vacuity of their first circles) and the whole political dimension of this series created by Will Tracy, screenwriter of The Menu and pen of John Oliver’s show, Last Week Tonight, is ultimately very poor.
The Regime, created by Will Tracy, on Prime with Warner Pass from Monday March 4.
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