
Broadcast on Tuesday, February 24, 2026 at 9:10 PM, the Franco-Belgian TV movie Maudits captured the public’s attention. In prime time on France 3, it led the tv ratings last night. It also topped the tv viewership with 3,360,000 viewers, or 20.1% audience share. In 90 minutes, director Chloé Micout takes Constance Gay and Pierre Arditi into the Morvan, in the middle of a family investigation where fear changes face: that of an unborn child, threatened by a whispered curse.
A Grandmother "Dead" Who Still Breathes
It all begins with a certainty that cracks. Lucile lives in Lyon, pregnant, in those weeks when the body moves faster than the mind. She thought herself heir to a simple story: a grandfather, Jacques, the last pillar. A grandmother gone forever.
Then the improbable appears: the grandmother exists. She still lives somewhere in a village in the Morvan, among cold walls and mossy paths. Voices fall silent when you approach, creating a mysterious, hushed atmosphere. The past is not dead: it has simply been put away.
Lucile leaves. Without everyone’s agreement. Without a clear explanation. She leaves her partner, Omar, because she needs to see with her own eyes. Because the child to come demands understanding what is passed on.

At the end of the journey, a sentence lands, brutal, like a stone in water. Rose, the old woman, sees Lucile’s belly and utters the warning: “If it’s a boy, he will die like the others.” The riddle is set.
From there, Maudits plays on two strands. The first is superstition: a line of struck men, a fatality that would transmit like a dark inheritance. The second is concrete secrets: what was deliberately erased, what a patriarch reshaped to keep standing.
The Morvan, Setting and Character
The Morvan is not a postcard here. It’s a storytelling space. A terrain of woods and ponds, where you get lost quickly and find yourself slowly. Villages there seem to bring generations close, sometimes to the point of suffocation.
In this geography, old beliefs don’t feel folkloric: they become tools. A threat brandished. An alibi invented. A cloak of mist to cover reality.
The film sits within a very readable French tradition: thrillers rooted in a territory, where violence doesn’t come from the outside but from the home. The Morvan provides raw material: stone, forest, silence. It takes little for a secret to grow there into the size of a legend.
Filming, which began on June 17, 2024, took place in the Morvan and the Lyon region. This detail is not accidental: the story opposes two worlds. The city where one breathes fast, and the countryside where everything is kept.
Constance Gay, A Pregnancy as Dramatic Tension
Constance Gay plays Lucile without ornament. Her character is not an invincible heroine: she’s a woman whose fragility is a driving force. She moves forward with a heavy belly, real fatigue, and an obsession that grows.
Here, pregnancy is not a mere plot device. It sets the tempo. It imposes urgency. It turns conversations into ultimatums. When the child threatens to become a foretold victim, every minute counts.
Behind the scenes, the actress was not pregnant: she embodied the physicality with a prosthetic belly and posture work. She says she observed pregnant women to find the right movement. Then she felt the body “go on alert.” It happens as soon as the protective instinct takes over.
The paradox is striking: the film’s atmosphere is dark, but part of the shoot took place under exhausting heat. The actress recalls the difficulty of moving, sweating, sometimes running, with several kilos around her belly. In a thriller, this detail becomes almost a directorial cue: the effort is visible, so the fear becomes believable.

This Lucile doesn’t need speeches. Her decisions are enough. She ignores warnings. She questions. She searches. She accepts being disliked, because she can no longer be blind.
Pierre Arditi, The Burden Of A Pivot Grandfather
Against this energy, Pierre Arditi composes a restrained Jacques. A man who speaks, but who chooses his words. A patriarch who holds the family together through narration, like one props up a construction site.
In this role, Arditi doesn’t need outbursts. He establishes an almost domestic gravity. You sense in him the fear of losing control, and the habit of dominating through speech. The character is central because the truth depends on him.
It’s one of the telefilm’s most effective levers: the curse may be a façade, but the silence is certain. Jacques lived. Jacques chose. Jacques probably created an acceptable version of the story.
The duo works precisely because it’s not harmonious. Lucile seeks to be born into herself. Jacques seeks to maintain the architecture of a family narrative, even if it’s false. Between them, the Morvan serves as stage and judge.

A Franco-Belgian Coproduction, A Fiction Designed For Prime Time
Maudits is a coproduction bringing together Incognita, France Télévisions, Be-FILMS and the RTBF, with participation from the RTS. The cross-border production is not just a financial arrangement: it also reflects a flow of stories, talents, and broadcasters.
The TV movie was first broadcast in Belgium on February 3, 2025 on La Une. It was then offered in France, in prime time, on February 24, 2026. Between the two, the work had time to build a reputation, be seen, discussed, framed.
Artistically, the writing is by Marie du Roy and Cécile Lugiez. Direction is by Chloé Micout, whose background also includes recognizable French police series. This experience shows: the film moves through short scenes, clues, and thrusts.
Music, sets, and cinematography contribute to the same project: making the territory a gentle threat. No monsters springing out. Rather, a feeling that settles. A repeating detail. A noise, a rumor, a sentence.
The result did not win unanimous critical praise. Some readings applaud the boldness of a standalone genre-tinged piece in prime time and the actors’ commitment. Others find the direction more predictable, even overly laden with effects. This contrast actually fuels discussion around the fiction: public success does not mean aesthetic consensus.
Ratings: 3,360,000 Viewers — A Signal For France 3
The tv ratings speak clearly. On Tuesday, February 24, 2026, Maudits gathered 3,360,000 people, for 20.1% audience share, between 9:11 PM and 10:42 PM.
On the ratings front, competition that night was head-to-head. TF1 offered a recent blockbuster and placed lower. M6 bet on a known adventure. France 2 aired a current affairs magazine. The audience chose the anchored, short, self-contained French story like a trap.
This result fits a trend public broadcasters know well: the standalone fiction, when readable and well embodied, can unite a wide audience. It doesn’t require following a season. It promises an ending. It offers an accessible thrill.
The success also lies in the mix of ingredients. A pregnant heroine. A curse pronounced like a sentence. A grandmother thought buried. A grandfather too talkative. And the Morvan, which looks like a fairytale set, but without the comfort of a tale.
On france.tv, A Second Life After The Prime Time Shock
Beyond linear broadcast, Maudits was made available on france.tv before its on-air airing, then in catch-up. It’s a way to give the fiction another life: by making it available when the public starts talking about it.
In this second life, the TV movie finds another rhythm. You can pause it, come back, watch a scene twice. And, paradoxically, the curse story fits this fragmentation well: it works by revelations.

In a saturated television landscape, the standalone that wins isn’t always the loudest. Maudits moves by unease, inheritance, suspicion. It stages a simple, almost universal question: what remains of our families when you lift the floorboards?
And that’s probably where its effectiveness lies. Under the curse, there’s another, more realistic fear: discovering that the adults lied, and that the child will pay the bill.