True Crime Tuesdays: Sambre: Anatomy of a Crime
Review Overview
Performances
10Script
10Import
10Helen Archer | On 24, Sep 2024
Though first screened in France in 2023, Sambre: Anatomy of a Crime comes to British screens just as a particularly disturbing case in has opened up a conversation about sexual abuse and misogyny in French society. Adapted from the book Sambre: radioscopie d’un fait divers by journalist Alice Géraud – who wrote the script of this dramatisation with Marc Herpoux – it covers, over the course of six episodes, the case of a serial rapist who was able to commit his crimes for no less than three decades near the Sambre river, on the border of northern France and Belgium.
Renowned director Jean-Xavier de Lestrade (The Staircase; Murder on a Sunday Morning), takes the helm, ending each episode with the coda “this series aims to pay tribute to the victims. It doesn’t claim to be factually accurate” Weaving together the stories of the survivors of Dino Scala – renamed here as Enzo Salina – it also shows the ways in which he was enabled by a system which continuously undermined the seriousness of his crimes, and the impact they had on his victims.
The first episode opens in 1988, as Christine Labot (Alix Poisson) is attacked on her way to work, in what would become the perpetrator’s MO – he struck in the early morning, tightening a rope around the victim’s neck from behind, so that his face was never seen. After reporting it to a blasé police force, the rest of the episode shows the repercussions it has on her life – giving up work after suffering from panic attacks which make it difficult to leave the house, her marriage breaking down, her obsessional eating. Newbie police officer Blanchot (Julien Frison) – who, like Christine, will feature in the upcoming episodes – is, meanwhile, shown the ropes by his superiors. To avoid paperwork, the case is logged by hand in a notebook as an attempted robbery. Christine is made to recreate what she remembers at the crime scene as photos are taken of her, angry red welts around her neck. It acts to inform the viewer of how future victims – over 50, in all – will be treated, and why the subsequent attacks were not linked.
The next three episodes focus on three separate women whose obsession with solving the case come at great personal and professional cost: the investigating judge (played by Pauline Parigot) who first notices that there is a serial predator at large is treated as though unstable by her colleagues; the “communist” Mayor (Noémie Lvovsky) who attempts to take the case public is likewise ostracised; and the academic brought in to geographically track the crimes, played by Clémence Poésy, finds her marriage strained as her work consumes her. It is only by the fifth episode, when a cold case is launched – the first time a male investigator (Olivier Gourmet) is at the forefront – that the case is taken seriously. From there, the net is closing in, and it is just a matter of time before Enzo – whose point of view is explored in the final episode – is apprehended.
Throughout all this, new victims come forward, and are interviewed in close-up. And we follow, too, Enzo and his family, demonstrating that the the FBI-style profiling which had him down as a loner misfit is way off the mark. He, in fact, is popular with colleagues, a husband, father, and latterly grandfather who coaches the youth football team and buddies up with the local police. We see, too, the life of the first victim, Christine, progress over the years – though much of her inner self is still trapped in that morning in 1988, overprotective of her daughter and frightened and suspicious of those around her. With just cause, as in this adaptation she mingles unknowingly with her attacker – as do many of his victims.
Though it makes for frustrating and upsetting viewing, the series highlights the way in which women are failed by a justice system that, unwittingly or otherwise, upholds the patriarchy and, in doing so, protects perpetrators while letting down victims. It succeeds overwhelmingly in its stated aim – to pay tribute to the victims – but more than that, it speaks to a universal truth about sexual violence and the myriad ways women are failed by a society that allows it to flourish at their expense. As such, Sambre is essential viewing.
Sambre: Anatomy of a Crime is available on BBC iPlayer.