You’re reading Now Streaming, a weekly newsletter from Michael Sun, full of what to watch, read, and consume this weekend. It’s part of Netflix Pause, a publication that’s all about hitting pause to reflect on the latest film and TV. Subscribe now to get three free newsletters in your inbox every week diving into screen culture.
For anyone who wants to know “how” I’m “doing”, I unfortunately watched my comfort movie The Woman in the Window for the third time this year. Please subscribe to and/or share this newsletter before I watch it a fourth time.
In better news this week, I also watched Part 2 of Lupin — the French sensation about a very smart burglar and his very complex scheme to take down a very rich family for very mysterious reasons. It’s also THEE star vehicle for someone who desperately deserves it: Entouchables and X-Men star Omar Sy. Read on to see how many French words I know (the answer is one).
Streaming tonight
Watch trailer
Lupin Part 2
Something that has been plaguing me this week: Omar Sy’s height. Omar Sy is a beautiful French man and Lupin star whose height is six foot two. Omar Sy is the titular Tall Girl. Omar Sy is how tall I tell people I am on Hinge even though I am at least two inches shorter. Omar Sy should not be able to put on a disguise and pretend like he is an average French man because the average French man is five-eleven and also probably eating a baguette, which is something Omar Sy is not doing because he is too busy towering over other people while stealing 36-million-dollar necklaces and hotwiring cars.
Omar Sy should not be blending into such inconspicuous characters — a fry cook, a janitor, a dime-a-dozen gala attendee with too much money to burn — so easily, but he does anyway, because this is famously fantastical heist show Lupin and he is famously charming Omar Sy. He is the gentleman’s thief, but he’s also the everyman thief, doing it all with little more than a change of outfit and a fake moustache. I am constantly thinking about how I would go about stealing a 36-million-dollar necklace if I was presented with the opportunity, and unfortunately for two decades, the answer according to George Clooney was a) wear a lot of cravats, b) have eleven to thirteen friends, and c) drink a lot of Nespresso, three things that are incompatible with my lifestyle of owning no cravats, having three friends, and having anxiety. Luckily, Omar Sy proves that the only thing you really need is your wits.

Such is the thin line that Lupin treads — the tricks look easy, but not so easy that anyone except its shrewd, whipsmart protagonist could pull them off. In last year’s Part 1, we saw Sy’s Assane Diop get himself in and out of prison, kidnap a police commissioner, and start beef with a very rich man called Hubert Pellegrini, who may or may not have framed Assane’s dad for grand larceny many years ago. Now, in Lupin’s Part 2, Assane’s son Raoul has just gone missing, and the police — and Pellegrini’s henchmen — are closing in. The stakes are higher, the escape route is tighter, and Pellegrini is Pellegriner (by which I mean more evil, not more similar to a sparkling water).
The bedrock of Lupin is watching the gears turn in Assane’s various ploys; there’s an unadulterated pleasure to finding out how he gets out of police capture, or fools a corrupt businessman — like seeing a magician finally reveal their secrets. But what makes it truly enthralling is the show’s commitment to lore — a master plan binding together Pellegrini’s deeds, Assane’s father, and why he stole the 36-million-dollar necklace in the first place.
Omar Sy could’ve been James Bond, but in choosing the classic French tale of Arsène Lupin — the dubiously-moralled, Robin Hood-esque character on which Lupin is based — he moves the mystery genre into its most intriguing territory yet. This isn’t the romanticised Paris of Emily in fame, but a Paris where every passerby is a pickpocketer’s dream, every rue is a getaway plan, and every pinstripe suit is embroiled in an intergenerational scheme of robbery and revenge.
Lupin Part 2 streams tonight on Netflix.
Watch these too:
Money Heist, because sometimes the obvious comparison is the best one. Similarly twisty to Lupin — with time jumps, slowly unveiled motivations, and very addictive characters — it’s a Spanish sensation whose last season drops later this year.
Ocean’s 8, which, thankfully, has 100% less cravats than its Ocean’s predecessors, and shares Lupin’s unconventional spirit and inspired casting (Rihanna as a stoner hacker — the sentence begins and ends here).
Zero, the first Italian show centred around a Black Italian teen. Whilst a little more fantastical than our favourite French thief — Zero’s protagonist begins to develop superpowers — it still delves into many of the same debaucheries, class struggles, and family legacies.
I can’t stop thinking about:
This insane, bonkers, unafraid-to-reference-or-not-reference interview with poltergeist papa Patrick Wilson and malicious spirit mummy Vera Farmiga. The Devil Made Me Do It and by ‘me’ I mean Vera Farmiga and by ‘it’ I mean saying the phrase ‘spiritual warfare’ seven times
Bo Burnham’s Inside, which is FINALLY ON SPOTIFY
The Brie Larson version of ‘Black Sheep’ from Scott Pilgrim, which is FINALLY ON SPOTIFY
An story I heard from my friend earlier this week about Natalie Portman dining at the window of famously my favourite Sydney establishment Cairo Takeaway . . . the thought of Natalie Portman having a mixed vegetarian plate with Egyptian crisp bread . . . I am unavailable for comment