The genius of the script (co-written by Maïwenn and Emmanuelle Bercot) is that it denies catharsis. In a typical TV drama, an episode would begin with a crime and end with an arrest. In Polisse , an investigation into a teenage girl being prostituted by her mother might cut away abruptly to a custody battle over a starving infant, only to cut again to the officers sharing a vulgar joke in the break room. This fragmentation mimics the reality of the job. The officers do not have the luxury of processing one tragedy before the next arrives via a phone call. What makes Polisse so difficult to shake is the specificity of the cases. We do not see serial killers or grand conspiracies. We see the mundane, bureaucratic horror of everyday abuse: a father who has "accidentally" touched his daughter; a mother who forgets to feed her toddler; a teenager who has been groomed by an online predator. The film refuses to melodramatize these moments. They happen in ugly, fluorescent-lit rooms where the cops are tired, the translators are unavailable, and the suspect is crying.
Essential viewing, but not for the faint of heart. Bring your empathy and leave your expectations of a neat ending at the door. i--- Polisse -2011-
This scene serves as a thesis statement. The officers are not saints or martyrs; they are flawed, horny, angry, and deeply inappropriate. Fred cheats on his wife. Nadine neglects her own children. They scream at each other. They fall in love with the wrong people. The film argues that this dysfunction is necessary . To be "normal" in the face of pedophilia and incest would be a pathology in itself. Their darkness is a mirror held up to a society that prefers to look away. Spoilers are necessary to discuss the film’s final moments, which remain highly divisive. After two hours of grinding realism, Polisse ends with a shocking act of suicide. An officer, whose subplot involved a false accusation of sexual assault, jumps from the roof of the police station. The genius of the script (co-written by Maïwenn