Julie and Véro, queens of their network

We often hear that the TV industry does not treat women well, that after 40, their contracts evaporate and that experienced presenters disappear from the screens in favor of younger, trendier colleagues, who have more of subscribers on TikTok, like.

Véronique Cloutier and Julie Snyder, who are celebrating their 30th and 40th careers in television respectively, clearly prove the opposite. These two headliners, each queen of their network, survive television fashions and the moods of the bosses. And they last on the air, cementing their status as a pillar (or pillar?) of Quebec showbiz.

This winter, Véro and Julie took back control of popular and unifying shows. At the helm of Every second counts on Noovo, Mondays at 8 p.m., it seems that Julie Snyder piloted The banker for 10 years VAT. She interacts more flexibly and naturally with the contestants in her general knowledge game, which provides an informative and entertaining hour of TV.

The second episode, relayed Monday evening, was better than the first, I think. The prize pool ($44,563, before unequal sharing of shares) was juicier and the candidates were funnier. Contrary to The week of the 4 Julies, where things got out of hand happily, the host keeps tight control over her set. No choice, you might say, when there are so many rules to explain and so much money to distribute. It’s true.

I like Every second countswhich focuses on the general culture of participants, of all ages, who play together and also against each other.

Effective, the first two rounds at $2500 and $5000 went by at lightning speed. We would even take a few additional questions because it’s so quick.

The spectrum of topics covered is wide: mental arithmetic, Harry Potter houses, Oscar-winning films, athletics and Quebec rap. The level – neither expert nor beginner – allows a very wide audience to have fun. And the jackpot that shrivels with time to think increases stress levels cruelly.

On the other hand, there remains an uncomfortable pause between the response provided by the competitors and the validation by Julie Snyder, who points towards the indicator board, in the void, for a few seconds. We could shorten this drawn-out suspense, which recalls the long unveilings of the Banker.

The last 10 minutes of Every second countsThey also lack substance. Once the money is allocated in portions of 60, 30 and 10%, the interest falls. How the winners will spend their nest egg, sometimes tiny, does not make for extra thrilling TV.

That said, as team captain, Julie Snyder is curious and invested. Yes, she butters up a good layer while rolling around on the studio floor, but as long as she doesn’t ruin her nice clothes, we should be fine.

On the side of Zenith, back on Radio-Canada for a second season, Véronique Cloutier demonstrates how much she excels live. His management of the VIP audience and the artists (sometimes in a state of shock or intense stress) is astonishing. Everything looks easy and fresh, like in a Covergirl ad.

And unlike last season, Véro no longer has to explain and then re-explain the rules of her television singing competition. Fans know what to expect and the first episode, which aired Thursday at 8 p.m., was smooth, with no major technical glitches.

There is only Zenith that we can see Gilles Girard, the singer of Classels, covering Saskatchewan of the Three Accords dressed in a white cowboy costume.

It got ruined during the karaoke part, where Gilles Girard got lost in the song Fall in the water by Annie Villeneuve, which he did not master. The singers rushed to her aid and Véro made up for the moment, which could have been awkward.

Julie Ringuette, the ice ballerina of Masked singersand Rafaëlle Roy, finalist of The voice 7 in 2019, stole the show with their flamboyant numbers concocted around Alive from France D’Amour and Crazy in Love by Beyoncé. Unpopular opinion: no, contrary to what Éléonore Lagacé declared, the captain of the Z, Rafaëlle Roy is not “the greatest singer of our era, overall, in the world”. We’re removing a log from the stove, thank you.

Lulu Hughes, a member of Generation X, had a rougher journey. She opted for Music by Madonna, Bollywood style, which did not do justice to her soulful voice. Bad choice. Then, at karaoke, she tackled the song Mad of Andréanne A. Malette, whom she said she knew, but whom she massacred. The two singers were charged overtime again.

It is precisely because it is not smooth and framed that the karaoke segment of Zenith is fascinating. We see singers putting themselves in danger and trying crazy things, even if it means screwing up, whatever, something is happening on our televisions. We will certainly not complain that this portion goes beyond the framework and that performers expose their vulnerability, even if some classics must be excoriated.