On a crisp December evening, amidst the saturating glow of holiday programming, France 3 achieved a quiet revolution with the broadcast of Meurtres en Périgord vert. Topping the prime-time ratings on Saturday, December 20, 2025, the latest installment in the network’s beloved regional crime anthology did more than just outperform its commercial rivals at M6 and France 5; it signaled a sophisticated shift in the French cultural dialogue. At the center of this narrative is Andréa Furet, the former Miss Île-de-France contestant turned serious thespian, who stars as Lieutenante Emma Lambert. Her performance—and her subsequent refusal to be pigeonholed—delivers a stinging, necessary critique of the industry's obsession with identity politics. By declaring, "My job is actress, not transgender," Furet has re-centered the conversation on craft, turning a regional mystery into a landmark moment for representation without the heavy-handed moralizing that often plagues modern cinema.
The Aesthetic of Authority: Beyond the Token
In the high-stakes theater of French television, where casting choices are often scrutinized through a magnifying glass of sociological implication, the decision to cast Andréa Furet as a police lieutenant is a masterstroke of normalization. The character of Lieutenante Emma Lambert is not a didactic vehicle for gender theory; she is a law enforcement officer returning to her hometown, navigating the visceral complexities of a murder investigation. The plot, centering on the decapitation of a woman claiming the title of "Queen of Araucanie," is steeped in the eccentric, gothic traditions of the Dordogne region, yet it is Furet’s grounded intensity that anchors the absurdity.
The distinction Furet draws—“Je suis comédienne avant tout” (I am an actress above all)—is not merely a soundbite; it is a manifesto for the next generation of talent. For too long, trans actors have been relegated to playing the transition itself—the medical, social, and emotional labor of becoming. In Meurtres en Périgord vert, the transition is a biographical detail, a texture in the character’s history, but it is not the plot. The plot is murder. This is the "post-identity" narrative structure that cultural critics have awaited, where a marginalized identity informs a perspective but does not consume the professional function of the character.
Watching Furet on screen, clad in the utilitarian, navy-blue austerity of the French police uniform, one witnesses a shedding of the "pageant queen" gloss that first introduced her to the public in 2022. There is a gritty, unvarnished quality to her performance that suggests she is not looking for approval, but for the truth of the scene. It is a performance that demands we look at her ability to hold a close-up, to convey the silence of a detective thinking, rather than simply gazing at a symbol of progress.
Regional Gothic: The Dordogne as a Character
Fashion and cinema share a lust for location, and Director Muriel Aubin has lensed the Périgord Vert not just as a backdrop, but as a brooding, atmospheric entity. The filming locations—the Château de la Forge in Saint-Pancrace-Lédrier and the Moulin de Salles in Tocane-Saint-Apre—provide a textural richness that rivals the best British heritage mysteries like Vera or Shetland. There is a palpable dampness, a moss-covered history that permeates the screen, contrasting sharply with the sterile, high-gloss production of Parisian studio dramas.
The visual language of the film leans into what we might call "Rural Noir." The juxtaposition of the brutal crime—a decapitation, theatrical and gruesome—against the pastoral serenity of Nontron and Saint-Jean-de-Côle creates a delicious cognitive dissonance. It is an aesthetic that appeals to the modern viewer's desire for "authenticity," a buzzword that drives tourism as much as it drives television ratings. The local press in Dordogne has rightly noted the potential tourism boost, but from a stylistic perspective, the region offers a color palette of slate greys, forest greens, and blood reds that frame the narrative in an almost operatic light.
This setting is crucial for the "Queen of Araucanie" subplot. The Kingdom of Araucanía and Patagonia, a curious 19th-century micronation founded by the French lawyer Antoine de Tounens, is a slice of historical eccentricity that feels ripe for a Gucci campaign or a Wes Anderson retrospective. By weaving this obscure lore into a modern murder mystery, the writers have tapped into a vein of "heritage horror"—the idea that the past is never dead, it’s just waiting in a crumbling château to settle a score.
The Business of Broadcast: A Ratings Triumph
In an era where streaming giants cannibalize linear television audiences, France 3’s ability to command a Saturday night is statistically significant. As of Sunday morning, December 21, the overnight numbers confirm a definitive win. While precise share figures are being finalized, the lead over M6 and France 5 is indisputable. This speaks to the enduring power of the Meurtres à... franchise, a format that functions similarly to a fashion house's "Pre-Fall" collection: reliable, commercially viable, and essential for the bottom line.
The success of this telefilm validates the public broadcaster's strategy of investing in high-quality, regionally specific content. It is a rebuke to the algorithm-driven homogeneity of Netflix or Disney+. The audience did not tune in because an algorithm suggested it; they tuned in for the specific alchemy of a trusted brand (the Meurtres collection) and the intrigue of a rising star (Furet). The engagement metrics on france.tv for the replay suggest a strong digital tail, indicating that younger audiences, who may have missed the broadcast, are catching up on-demand—driven, likely, by the social chatter surrounding Furet’s performance.
Industry insiders are noting the lack of "backlash." In previous years, a prime-time slot featuring a trans lead in a conservative regional setting might have sparked polarized debate. The neutral-to-positive reception—focused on plot pacing and acting nuances rather than culture-war vitriol—suggests a maturation in the French audience. They are judging the product, not the politics. This is the ultimate victory for Furet’s "actress first" stance: she was judged as a lieutenante, and the verdict was favorable.
Timeline of an Evolution
- 2022: The Breakout – Andréa Furet makes headlines as the first transgender contestant in the Miss Île-de-France pageant, challenging the rigid beauty standards of the Miss France committee.
- 2023-2024: The Pivot – Moving away from the "beauty queen" label, Furet secures roles in projects like Il est elle, signaling a serious commitment to acting over celebrity.
- Early 2025: The Production – Filming commences in Dordogne. The decision is made to cast Furet as Emma Lambert, a character with a transition subplot that is secondary to her profession.
- December 20, 2025: The Premiere – Meurtres en Périgord vert airs. Furet gives the definitive interview to Télé 7 Jours rejecting the "transgender actor" label in favor of "actress."
- December 21, 2025: The Aftermath – Ratings confirm a number one spot. Critics praise the nuance; the industry takes note of her viability as a lead in mainstream procedurals.
The "Araucanie" Phenomenon: History as a Muse
We must pause to appreciate the narrative elegance of the "Queen of Araucanie" plot device. For the uninitiated, the Kingdom of Araucanía is not a fictional construct of the screenwriters but a genuine historical anomaly involving Antoine de Tounens, a lawyer from Périgueux who declared himself King of the Mapuche in South America in 1860. It is a story of delusion, ambition, and colonial fantasy.
By centering the murder on a modern-day claimant to this phantom throne, the film engages in a subtle critique of performative royalty—a theme that resonates deeply in the fashion world, where "heritage" is often manufactured for marketing. The victim, Isabelle Maurin, represents the danger of living in a fantasy, a stark contrast to Lieutenante Lambert, who must deal in the cold, hard facts of forensics. The clash between the romanticized past (the micronation) and the brutal present (the investigation) mirrors the clash between Furet’s public perception and her actual work. One is a story we tell; the other is the reality we live.
Forecast: The Crossover Star
What happens next for Andréa Furet? The trajectory is clear. Having proven she can carry a 90-minute prime-time drama that leads the ratings, she has graduated from "promising talent" to "bankable asset." The whispers of her joining the cast of a major daily soap on TF1—potentially Demain nous appartient or a similar vehicle—suggest a move into the daily consciousness of the French public.
We predict a shift in how casting directors approach her profile. The era of calling Furet only for "trans specific" roles is ending. Expect to see her in roles that require authority: lawyers, doctors, perhaps a villain in a high-budget thriller. The fashion industry, too, should take note. Furet’s refusal to be a token aligns perfectly with the current mood of "quiet luxury" and intellectual substance. She is not an influencer chasing likes; she is a professional building a body of work. A campaign with a brand that values heritage and stoicism—think Hermès or Celine—would not be out of place.
Culturally, Meurtres en Périgord vert will likely serve as a case study for future productions. It demonstrates that audiences are ready for diverse casting provided the story remains king. The success of the film protects the Meurtres à... franchise from fatigue, proving that even a formulaic genre can feel fresh with the right casting alchemy.
Expert Insights: The Verdict
The reception of the film highlights a critical divide between the "Twitterati" and the general public. While social media volume was moderate, the viewership numbers were massive. This "silent majority" approval is what television executives care about. The critique from Ouest-France, labeling the episode "unconvincing" despite the original scenario, points to the inevitable unevenness of the anthology format, but it notably does not fault the casting. The criticism is technical, not ideological.
Ultimately, Andréa Furet has achieved what few actors do: she has forced the audience to look past the headline and watch the scene. In the rolling hills of the Dordogne, amidst the ghosts of fake kings and real murders, she has carved out a space where she is simply, and triumphantly, a comedian.
Written by Ara Ohanian for FAZ Fashion — fashion intelligence for the modern reader.
