Hugo pop! | The kidnapper’s swimming goggles

It’s the story of an idyllic couple of young, sporty, tanned, financially comfortable Californians living in a pretty yellow and white house in the suburbs of San Francisco.

He, Aaron Quinn, 30, was captain of his football team. She, Denise Huskins, 29, was a model student. These two lovebirds now work as physiotherapists at the hospital in Vallejo, a quiet, charming, uneventful town.

In short, they are perfect and it looks great.

But as Aaron and Denise are the subject of a captivating series of true crime on Netflix, you can guess that this pretty magazine-style portrait Vanity Fair will darken in a tragic way, in an incredible way that you cannot imagine. It’s mind-blowing, really.

This attractive novelty, the most popular on the Netflix platform, is called American Nightmare (The kidnapped truth: from dream to American nightmarein French version).

A few years ago, Netflix would have artificially inflated its terrifying American Nightmare to six or eight episodes. Because this horrifying story of a kidnapping and a serial rapist is so astonishing and filled with stunning twists and turns that viewers would have swallowed it all, even the most diluted bits.

No unnecessary filler this time. There are only three one-hour episodes ofAmerican Nightmare, thank you good night. We are offered a compact story that can be devoured like a thriller, without downtime.

Aaron’s nightmare and, above all, Denise’s, began on the night of March 23, 2015. A commando of hooded men – and dressed in diving suits – gently intruded into Denise and Aaron’s bedroom. , who were sleeping soundly. The intruders, who know Denise and Aaron’s first names, blind the couple with strobe lights and lasers.

They put Denise and Aaron in swimming goggles obscured with duct tape black. They place headphones on their ears that play relaxing wind chime music.

Then, the masked men, strangely polite and delicate for burglars, tie up the two victims and even take their blood pressure.

They then drug Aaron with anti-anxiety infused NyQuil and disappear with Denise. It is then around 3 a.m., well before sunrise. And it is here, without giving anything away, that this affair becomes even more bizarre.

It was only ten hours later that Aaron contacted the local Vallejo police and reported his girlfriend Denise missing. Back at the station, Aaron recounts with suspicious precision all the details of the kidnapping: the diving suits, the dazzling lights, the swimming goggles, the blood pressure, the sweetness of the kidnappers’ tone, the spa music, the NyQuil , he doesn’t forget anything.

The detective in front of him – whose name is Mat Mustard, like Colonel Mustard – doesn’t buy any of Aaron’s ultra-precise version. Neither does the FBI. Result ? Aaron becomes the main suspect in the kidnapping of his girlfriend Denise. The detectives cook him for 18 hours and Aaron, who swears his innocence, finally hires a lawyer.

American Nightmare reaches another level of strangeness when, 48 hours later, Denise reappears more than 600 kilometers from home, safe and sound. Her captors dropped her off at the door of her father’s house in Huntington Beach, south of Los Angeles.

No but, no but, how to explain all these oddities? You’ll have to wait. Because Denise (the victim, let’s not forget) refuses to speak to the police and she also contacts a criminal lawyer.

Surprised and frustrated by Denise’s silence, the investigators draw hasty conclusions: here is an exact reconstruction of the film Gone Girl by David Fincher, released the year before.

This woman (Denise) staged her disappearance to indict her partner (Aaron). The national media, including the very nuanced Nancy Grace, are focusing on the “real Gone Girl” and it’s hell.

There, you’re probably complaining: let’s see, Dumas, close your box, no need to reveal everything to us! Don’t panic, friends. This information only constitutes a tiny part of the three hours that you will undoubtedly consume this weekend. It’s high caliber.

American Nightmaremade by the same team as The Tinder Swindler (The Tinder scammer), incorporates all the elements we love into one true crime : excerpts from interrogations of suspects, images from police body cameras, panicked (or too calm) 911 calls, alarmist excerpts from local news bulletins, personal videos shot with iPhones and the testimony of a old hand in judicial journalism.

Note to my therapist: there is definitely something super unhealthy about feasting on the misfortune of complete strangers. Explanations, please.

I Levite

With I come towards you on Noovo

Marc Labrèche’s twice-weekly show (Monday and Tuesday at 9 p.m.) is on his X. The mix of guest chakras always gives tasty moments. I love Mathieu Pepper, Élise Guilbault, Fabiola Aladin, Pascale Renaud-Hébert and Virginie Ranger-Beauregard. The host is on fire. The band is perfectly grafted to the main board. And the “Champagne!” Showbiz! » should come up more often. Damn it’s funny. The one on Monday with Gino Chouinard was dying.

I Levite

Selfish, of Justin Timberlake

It’s been a long time since Justin Timberlake released good music. From FutureSex/LoveSounds, in 2006, to be precise. Wait. We can also grant him Mirrors from the album The 20/20 Experience, released in 2013. But that’s it. His new extract, Selfish, launched Thursday morning, is a total bore. Bad lyrics, flat rhythm, will Justin one day find his SexyBack ? It’s gone very badly.