Netflix’s Lupin deserves credit for creativity. Arsène Lupin is as prototypical to the “gentlemen thief” archetype as Sherlock Holmes is to private investigators, but the hero of Maurice Leblanc’s short stories from the early-20th century hasn’t been subjected to many contemporary iterations in his purest form. Mostly, it’s been other heist gurus who wield mischief that were directly inspired by Lupin; this would include everything from Thomas Crowne and Simon Templar of The Saint to the Ocean’s movies and certain depictions of Bugs Bunny.
A slick master thief with an eye for art thievery was more unique at a time where the concept of a heist was formed, but Netflix’s international adventure series Lupin found a clever way of getting around the tricky aspect of the character’s legacy. The protagonist of the series is Assane Diop, a brilliant safecracker who was raised in France by Senegalese immigrants. Although he’s at odds with authorities because of the high-profile robberies he’s credited for, Assane is closer to a Robin Hood figure than a “career criminal;” there’s an intentional decision to never feature any violence on his behalf.
The first season of Lupin worked because it aired at the right time in January 2021 where an anti-establishment work of escapism was primed to resonate with an audience coming out of Covid (yet still glued to new streaming release), and because it was a breakthrough for the French actor Omar Sy. Sy was an actor worth watching ever since his winning performance as an unconventional live-in caregiver in the French dramedy The Intouchables, which was later remade (to much less impact) as the American film The Upside with Kevin Hart in his role. Sy’s depiction of Assane is somewhere between Cary Grant and Steve McQueen, but he’s also highly aware of his influences. His backstory is that he grew up obsessed with the Lupin stories because he read them with his father, who was unjustly framed for a burglary and died by suicide. Lupin’s success was that it staged a series of completely improbable heists that were explained just well enough to suspend disbelief.
The next two seasons of Lupin weren’t bad, but lacked the “breath of fresh air” quality that had made the first season a breakout. Judging by the fact that there was a three-year gap between seasons 3 and 4, I wouldn’t expect Lupin to run for much longer, especially since the latest batch of episodes is concluded by the type of cliffhanger that can only be applied once without the stakes being made superfluous. Although the acclaimed French theater actor Hervé Pierre made for a suitably conniving archnemesis for Assane with his role as the ruthless business magnate Hubert Pellegrini, there wasn’t a personal stake that provided sustained dramatic tension. Assane obviously can’t die, but a suitably tragic fate would be for his son, Raoul (Théo Christine), to align himself with Pellegrini. Since Assane’s motivation was initially to clear his father’s name from Pellegrini’s accusations, having his own child corrupted is a cruel recourse.
The father-son dynamic between Assane and Raoul was fractious since the beginning of the series, which provided a fairly realistic look at a situation of separated parents. Raoul’s estranged mother Claire (Ludivine Sagnier) is a former flame of Assane’s with whom there isn’t any romantic tension, but she’s sympathetic enough that his disappearance would involve them both. The boldest decision made in the previous season was for Assane to accept his prison sentence, despite the knowledge that he’d have no issues escaping. This was his price to pay for his public acts of rascality, the likes of which made him a social media sensation, but it was mostly to show to Raoul that he was willing to accept consequences.
The fourth season has another trick up its sleeve with the revelation of Assane’s daughter Adele, Laïka Blanc-Francard, who’s become a copycat thief capable of mimicking her father’s crimes. It’s a twist that was easy to see coming, given that Adele’s mother is also Pellegrini’s daughter, Juliette (Clotilde Hesme), but a closely-knit story of familial deception is exactly what Lupin needed to announce its escalation. The chemistry between Assane and Adele is so instantaneous that it’s a reminder that Raoul was always a brat. It’s also helpful that Adele is introduced fully-formed as an inventive thief of her own, having watched her father from afar.
Despite the complicated saga of unions and betrayals, a heist series is only as good as its MacGuffin, and Lupin Season 4 has an ancient treasure that’s lifted straight from Indiana Jones. To transform the series into a globe-trotting adventure would only make sense at this point, but Lupin is wise in choosing what elements of incredulity to include; most of the heists are made more complicated because advanced deception technology is used more sparingly, and that’s because hacking is way less entertaining to watch when compared to old-fashioned disguises. The inclusion of Adele is a means for Assane to have one more person to explain his elaborate schemes to, but it’s also another wildcard for the show to deliver a few extra rug-pulls. There’s going to be a point where Lupin can’t beat around the bush any longer and will have to offer some sort of resolution, but it hasn’t reached it thus far.