While True Detective: Night Country was getting all of the headlines and social media mentions, AMC+ had a murder-mystery show of its own running concurrently and under the radar. Created by Scott Frank and Tom Fontana, Monsieur Spade is a follow-up to The Maltese Falcon, the detective novel authored by Dashiell Hammett back in 1930 and famously adapted for the big screen in 1941. At this moment, it’s possible you’re thinking, “why make a sequel to a 1941 Humphrey Bogart movie now, in 2024?” To tell you the truth, I asked myself that same question when I first heard about this limited series, but then I saw some of the names attached to it. First and foremost, it stars Clive Owen, an actor who’s nearly impossible to dislike or ignore, even as he’s fallen out of prominence. Then there’s Scott Frank, who’s coming off The Queen’s Gambit and who cut his teeth penning noir films like Get Shorty and Out of Sight. Oh, and France is where it’s set; I like France, it’s entrancing. For these reasons, I ended up giving Monsieur Spade a go, partially because I’d become intrigued and partially to serve as a palate cleanser after Night Country. Boy, am I glad I did, as I quite enjoyed Monsieur Spade, and not necessarily for the reasons I expected to.

It’s 1963 and private eye Sam Spade (Clive Owen) is now retired in Bozouls, a quiet village in southern France. Unfortunately for Sam, his tranquility is shattered when all of the nuns at the local convent/orphanage are brutally murdered. Because of his connection to Teresa (Cara Bossom), a teenage girl who resides at the convent and whom Sam watches over, he becomes embroiled in the case. In the end, he uncovers a connection between the killings and a mysterious young boy who, for some reason, has numerous interested parties searching for him. That’s the briefest synopsis I could muster for Monsieur Spade, a series that grows increasingly convoluted over its six chapters. I’m not complaining, though, since a 1950s-60s detective yarn should be a bit tangled; it’s a trademark of the genre. And, in reality, this show isn’t all that complicated for the first three episodes or so. In fact, the first episode is mostly an hour of getting to know Bozouls and the players who inhabit it – a process which some may find tedious. To me, however, the stately pace of Monsieur Spade’s first few episodes is a huge plus.

This is mainly because these episodes gift Clive Owen more than ample time to tuck in and make his Sam Spade right on par with Bogart’s. Sure, Frank and Fontana could’ve gone a different route. They could’ve opted to rely on their viewers’ familiarity with the 1941 movie and instead dive headfirst into the mystery, forgoing the leisure. Thankfully, they chose the better option, which was to allow Owen and his talented castmates to embody and enliven their characters through thoughtful conversation. It also helps that the writers’ snappy dialogue and Owen’s perfect line delivery make Monsieur Spade a humorous experience, on top of being an absorbing one. And it’s not just Owen who’s terrific here; the entire cast is excellent. For such a young actress, Bossom impressively displays the right balance of charisma and wit to function as a good counter to Owen, which is a true feat and a welcome surprise. French actors Denis Ménochet, Louise Bourgoin, Stanley Weber, and Clotilde Mollet are all similarly engaging, with my only wish being that there was a bit more runtime for each of them. The setting also becomes a character in its own way. Bozouls and its environs are stunningly bucolic and picturesque, with my only nitpick being that the town often seemed strangely vacant.* On the whole, outside of its labyrinthine plot, Monsieur Spade is nearly flawless.

That being said, the plot, specifically surrounding the murder case, is what I expected to be gripped by the most. At first, I really appreciated the slow trickle of clues and hints, even when said clues and hints were delivered with very little context. Frank and Fontana sparsely use exposition, choosing to let characters speak as if they’re real people with real connections and knowledge, a style that many writers avoid these days. On the positive side, this approach rewards viewers who pay close attention, but on the negative one, a handful of the show’s tête-à-têtes seem pretty impenetrable.** Still, the pros always outweigh the cons. Disappointingly, this method melts away as the series progresses and more and more players enter the fray, knotting the narrative and diluting each character’s screen-time. To elaborate, it’s easy and gratifying to piece together the disparate pieces of a puzzle when one can gradually slot one piece into another, making steady progress. Frank and Fontana seem to grasp this through episode four, but then they pivot, essentially chucking a load of new pieces atop the progress we’ve all made in the hope that the shock of it will keep us engrossed. Except, it’s not engrossing; it’s annoying, especially when we’ve become accustomed to the measured rhythm they did so well to establish beforehand. Despite this, I maintained my optimism that the writers would bring Monsieur Spade home with aplomb, rectifying their ill-judged swerves in the story’s latter stages.

In a few ways, they do bring it home, but in many others, they absolutely do not. On the character side, the cast and the writers nail the finale, concocting more than a few moments that stir emotions. On the story side, however, the finale is a muddled mess, with Frank and Fontana unable to dig themselves out of the hole they made by pumping in more twists and turns than the series could handle. It’s regrettable, too, because the fixes for this problem – fewer characters, fewer factions, maintaining their initial approach – are eminently apparent. All in all, the finale is overly perplexing and sloppy, but it’s also action-packed and consistently entertaining. And the closing scene is faultless, which reminded me that Frank and Fontana really know what they’re doing, even if I don’t always agree with their choices. So that’s Monsieur Spade, a well-acted, well-shot detective drama that stumbles a bit but never topples over. It’s actually a lot like its lead character Sam Spade: enigmatic, wry, considered, but perhaps not as good as a previous version.***

If I had to score it, I’d give Monsieur Spade a 7/10.

Notes:

* Seemingly for budgetary reasons, the town never has too many extras walking around or old cars parked on its streets. In some ways, it feels like the only people living there are the main and side characters. This may be a weird thing to gripe about, but I don’t know, I definitely noticed it.

** This problem is often exacerbated by the rapidity of the subtitles (half of this show’s dialogue is in French). I didn’t mind rewatching some scenes for clarity, but I imagine some of you will.

*** I would absolutely watch another round of Monsieur Spade, but right now it’s labeled as a “limited” series. However, as we all know, these limited series have a way of becoming un-limited, so let’s see if we can make that happen. If you have AMC+, then please, check this show out when you can.