It is the cinematographic adaptation of a novel by Jean Teulé. The problem begins there, in the scenario: while the book describes the romance story of Hélène Jégado, a serial poisoner of the nineteenth century, the film takes the form of a biography. Too many freedoms for a documentary (acute arsenic death is described as a peaceful death!), not enough audacity for a romance. The societal and historical context are sloppy, in a Britain caricatured as a haunt of superstition. Thank God, Déborah François saves the film by a remarkable game, especially in terms of facial expressions. Finally, the film depicts Hélène Jégado's tortured personality better than it explains it. Every time "Fleur de Tonnerre" tries to explain why Helen Jégado became what she was, it fails miserably. On the other hand, it succeeds in introducing us into everyday life and hidden madness of a distracted mind.
Review of The Poisoning Angel
