The biggest mystery in any French drama isn’t the plot—it’s how the actors always look impossibly stylish. How did the cast of The Returned (over a decade ago, though it feels recent) manage to look so effortlessly gorgeous with seemingly simple costumes and minimal makeup? Is French bone structure truly superior? Do clothes just drape better on that side of the Channel? Is that why they call it “la Manche” (the sleeve)? Am I overthinking this?
Forgive me—I’m obsessed. A good French thriller succeeds when its actual mystery distracts me from this fashion conundrum, and the new six-part series Promethea does exactly that.
The story begins with married couple Caroline (Marie-Josée Croze), a headteacher, and Charles (Thomas Jouannet), a doctor, hitting something that darts out of the woods on a dark, rainy night. It turns out to be a teenage girl (Fantine Harduin)—completely naked, yet unharmed. She remembers nothing except her name: Prométhée. At the hospital, doctors examine her, police question her, and Charles’ colleague, psychoanalyst Marie (Odile Vuillemin), probes further. No missing persons reports match her, and her only identifying mark is a jellyfish tattoo on her wrist.
Meanwhile, the police—led by the perpetually vaping officer Elise (Camille Lou)—are investigating the brutal murder of a girl named Léa two months prior, with no leads. That changes when Prométhée starts sketching scenes eerily similar to the crime scene photos and having violent flashbacks—hints that won’t fully unravel until later episodes.
The Lassets are still grieving their daughter, killed in a motorcycle accident two years earlier. Their sorrow is palpable, especially in how they unintentionally neglect their sweet son, Hugo (Aymeric Fougeron), who finds solace in his girlfriend, Vanessa (Margot Heckmann). When Prométhée moves in to avoid foster care, emotions grow even more tangled.
Clues emerge as everyone pursues their own theories. Charles wonders why there was blood on the windshield but no injuries on Prométhée—a fair question—so he sends her blood for testing. Prométhée tracks down a house from her flashbacks and the tattoo artist behind her jellyfish ink.
Vanessa, it turns out, is Elise’s sister, linking the families early on. Then Prométhée digs up a box of photos in Léa’s garden—likely not meant for parental eyes—finally giving Elise a lead. Add Marie’s unsettling presence and her casual mention of brittle bone disease (a Chekhov’s gun if ever there was one), plus Prométhée’s emerging supernatural abilities, and the story takes a deliciously eerie turn. By then, we’re fully hooked.
There’s nothing groundbreaking here, but Promethea delivers six well-paced hours of stylish suspense. It’s a satisfying binge—light but flavorful—with enough emotional weight (thanks to the grieving parents) to elevate it beyond mere pulp. And really, who doesn’t crave that?Despite their grief, everything wraps up neatly with all loose ends tied—except for the enduring mystery of how they manage to look so effortlessly ordinary yet stunning all the time.
Promethea premieres on Channel 4 this Sunday and is already available for streaming.
