When last seen reviewing Episode 3, Terry Zobeck was getting into Monsieur Spade as a mystery. Sure, he had to ignore the baffling presence of a guy named Spade in France for some reason, but he was making the best of it.
The concluding episode dropped last weekend, and Terry’s forgiving and quite generous nature dropped with it. He is a die hard hard-boiled fan, after all. Tougher than he looks.
Here Terry knocks off some commentary on the final three episodes and sweeps our expat detective off his decks and into the dustbin of history:
We are given three significant plot developments in Episode 4; however, only one of them has any direct bearing on the mystery at the heart of the story.
A flashback explains the fate of Gabriella’s first husband and the connection to many of the leading lights of the town.
In one of the best scenes of the entire series Gabriella visits her father-in-law, who is near death. We gain a good deal of sympathy for her husband and Spade’s foe, Jean-Pierre, as Gabriella spits wonderful vitriol at the old man. She cuts him no slack for his impending death.
The one development that has some bearing on the central plot involves a murderous attack on Spade in his own home, ending the episode with a cliff-hanger.
In Episode 5, the writers suddenly seem to remember that their Spade character has some vague relationship to a San Francisco private detective of that name from 30 years ago. They toss in a couple of inconsequential references to that Spade.
Sam continues to tell anyone who may be interested that he wants nothing to do with the current intrigue, but no one is listening. The story begins to wander into Dan Brown territory, delving into the historical past, with a plot slightly reminiscent of the Falcon’s.
Most importantly, an obvious secret is suggested — one that experienced viewers will have guessed long ago.
The final episode demolishes whatever Good Will the program garnered from those like me, who managed to ignore the Sam Spade connection and simply enjoy a stylish and well-produced thriller.
More hidden relationships are revealed. A reference to Sgt. Dundee from the Falcon reminds us of the original. Plus a double-cross or two. All fine, but the ending — truly awful.
We get a denouement straight out of a Golden Age mystery with all the suspects gathered at the country estate, in this case Spade’s home.
Rather than having Spade explain who the murderer is, a deus ex machina in the form of Alfre Woodard appears from nowhere to explicate the role of each person in the hunt for the MacGuffin.
I was so frustrated with this clichéd ending I wanted to throw my laptop across the room. The sort of nonsense Hammett regularly railed against in his book reviews.
To have his name associated with such a mess is blasphemy.
Not until the credits roll do you realize that Spade had absolutely nothing to do with the resolution of the central mystery — the murder of the six nuns at the convent in which Teressa was raised — or really any aspect of the story other than shooting one of the villains.
And even then he is only one of the shooters. (The Spade in Falcon doesn’t carry a gun. “I don’t like guns,” quoth the gumshoe.)
If you can’t tell, I really didn’t like it. I do hope there is not a Season 2 of this crap.
