In this busy back-to-school series, just on Netflix, Clickbait has managed to make a place for itself in the top 10 of the platform and in the daily lives of viewers. Even in just one of their day. Clickbait, it is the story of Nick Brewer, an uneventful family man who mysteriously disappears. On the Internet, a viral video appears and shows him injured, holding a card that accuses him of being violent towards women. Worse: to have killed one. If the video reaches five million views, Nick Brewer will be shot by his captors. There follows a race against time during which it will be necessary to answer several questions: Who is against Nick Brewer and why? Did the kidnapped hide his real face from those close to him?
As the title suggests, Clickbait is therefore a perfect series for the binge watching. A psychological, addictive, unpredictable thriller. However, his end may have aroused surprise, anger or spite. Your choice… according to the Series Experts of 20 Minutes.
———– WARNING SPOILERS ON THE SERIES AND ON ITS END ————-
“Surprise and efficiency at the sacrifice of consistency” according to Vincent Julé
Bring in the accused: Sophie, the wife who was having an extramarital affair? Emma, the self-proclaimed mistress and crossed on a dating site? Matt, the best friend coach a little too present to be honest? A few episodes from the end, it becomes clear that there are several culprits … and several crimes. The kidnapping and the video are the business of Simon, the brother of a Nick or catfishing victim who committed suicide.
But who killed Nick then? This is where the author of his lines thought he was smarter than everyone else. Ah ah, but, yes, it’s Vince, the friend of Nick’s sister, a young hacker who appears occasionally in the series. Badaboum: the last episode opens with Dawn, Nick’s discreet housewife colleague. A culprit impossible to find. Or almost. Perhaps you had tilted when Nick let him set up his passwords and synchronize his phone at the turn of a scene …
Unlike many films, series, novels, Clickbait there succeeds a dramatic turn of events. And Tony Ayres can unroll Dawn’s explanations and motivations. As for the spectator does not care a bit, he “got caught”. However, the shoe pinches because surprise and efficiency take precedence over consistency. Example: So the police have never investigated false profiles or photo montages?
“A culprit completely” What the Fuck “” according to Laure Beaudonnet
To want too much to surprise his audience, Clickbait trash the denouement of a plot, however well held on the first seven episodes. The idea of destroying the angelic image of the victim – as the media tend to do in the treatment of news items – is relevant and even fascinating. In the eyes of the general public (and of the spectator), the family becomes the accomplice of an executioner with sociopathic behavior.
But at the time of the denouement when we discover that Nick’s identity has been usurped, Clickbait stumbles into the twist too many and pulls a couple of culprits out of their hat completely what the fuck. Nothing sticks. Why does Dawn Gleed decide to take on the features of her colleague with whom she gets along so well? The argument of the feeling of loneliness seems very fragile. Worse, imagine that her husband, Ed, who has only just discovered his wife’s actions, manages to coldly kill a Nick just escaped from the hands of his captors does not take either. And to observe with sadness the scenario trying to justify with great reinforcement of enormities the motive of this couple. Pity.
“The unpleasant feeling of having been fooled” according to Fabien Randanne
The series lives up to its name. Clickbait is a “click trap”: we are hooked by an intriguing introduction and once the epilogue comes, we have the unpleasant impression of having been had. Nick owes his loss to the secretary of the high school for which he works. The so nice Dawn, with her good-naturedness of Mamie Nova, shows that you shouldn’t be fooled by appearances.
The fact of accepting to believe what a fiction tells us in order to fully appreciate it has a name: the suspension of disbelief. With this series, she pierces the ceiling. Already, it must be accepted that a young quadra agrees to entrust to a colleague the responsibility of his password and the synchronization of his phone – while he maintains sentimental exchanges with a woman other than his own. That Dawn then decides to create fake profiles to flirt on dating sites by impersonating Nick, still happens. This is surely what Madame Bovary would do today to overcome boredom. But understanding her relationship with her husband Ed is more complicated. Either he embodies the voice of reason which asks his wife to stop her virtual pranks, or he is the one who puts her even more in trouble. For example, by killing Nick. And by trying to kill Kai, the latter’s son.
Nick’s death, let’s talk about it: swallowing that the first instinct of this man who was kidnapped, kidnapped, beaten and threatened with death is to go knock on Dawn’s door to settle accounts with her requires having a good descent. I prefer well-conducted conclusions to be savored in small sips.