superpower

ARLINGTON, Texas — Before it could rise in the World Cup, France first had to fall.

And the fall was spectacular.

In 2010, four years after reaching the final for the second time in three World Cups, the players revolted against coach Raymond Domenech during the tournament. In response, the managing director of the country’s soccer federation resigned in disgust, and the team left South Africa winless after scoring just once in three games.

That matched France’s worst World Cup performance in 76 years. The team, outsiders agreed, had become impossible to coach.

Four years later France made the quarterfinals, beginning a streak in which it has reached the final eight in four consecutive World Cups for the first time. If France, ranked No. 1 in the world, beats Spain in the semifinals Tuesday — Bastille Day in France, a patriotic holiday that is the equivalent of the Fourth of July in the U.S. — it will advance to the final for a third straight time.

Only Brazil and Germany have done that.

France’s Kylian Mbappé (10) celebrates with teammates after scoring against Sweden.

(Yuki Iwamura / Associated Press)

The base for that success was laid a generation before the collapse in South Africa, when a series of poor performances led the French Football Federation to create a series of 16 government-subsidized academies known as Centres de Formation. The main training center opened in 1988 in Clairefontaine, about 30 miles southwest of Paris, and many players from the 1998 championship team — including Zinedine Zidane, Thierry Henry and Robert Pires — passed through its doors.

“What is true about French football is that they started building academies very early and structuring them very early,” said Rudi Garcia, who played 10 seasons in France before becoming a coach of the Belgium national team. “A lot of the good work that’s being done by French football in general is due to the academies.”

But if Clairefontaine set the foundation, Didier Deschamps, the coach who took over the “uncoachable” team in 2012, built much of what went on top.

“It’s not luck,” Henry said on Fox. “This guy is a serial winner. I can also tell you how hard it is to have a lot of alphas and make sure that only one will be the alpha.”

Deschamps was a lunch-bucket player, a hard-working defensive midfielder who excelled at winning back possession in a 16-year career that included captaining France to both a World Cup and European Championship before he retired to become a coach, guiding Monaco to the Champions League final in his first stop. If he has a super power, both as a captain and coach, it’s his ability to manage big egos and get them to buy into the team concept. He did that first as captain of the star-studded 1998 squad and has been even better at it as the coach.

“The collective spirit,” Deschamps said, “is our strength.”

France coach Didier Deschamps celebrates with William Saliba after a World Cup quarterfinal win over Morocco.

(Lars Baron / Getty Images)

“He’s got credit in the bank,” added former World Cup goalkeeper Kasper Schmeichel, another Fox analyst. “Who can question him? His record speaks for itself as a player and as a coach.”

About that record: Deschamps heads into Tuesday’s semifinal with 20 wins and just two losses in 25 matches as a World Cup coach. He has won more World Cup games and more knockout-stage games, 11, than any other manager. And he was unbeaten in the tournament as a player, going 6-0-1.

Add those wins together and Deschamps, 57, has been on the field or in the technical area for 26 of France’s 48 World Cup victories. Before him, France never had won a World Cup.

By Sunday, the French could be lifting the trophy for the third time in 28 years. Only Brazil has won that many titles in a shorter span. And this team could be France’s best.

All that is thanks in large part to the FFF and government investment in the Centres de Formation. France is now the greatest developer of elite soccer talent in the world. Of the 1,248 players chosen to play for the 48 teams in this World Cup, 99 — nearly 8% — were developed in France, according to Opta. At least 13 teams in this tournament had at least one French-born player, among them Spain and Cape Verde. No other country comes close.

There are several reasons for that. The Ile-de-France region, which includes Paris, is home to large communities of working-class immigrants from the country’s former colonies. Eleven of the 26 players on this French team came from these banlieues, as they are called, among them captain Kylian Mbappé, who has the most goals in the last two World Cups.

The talent pool there is so deep, France probably could have fielded a B team in this World Cup and made it to the quarterfinals. And because the competition to make the national team is great, it raises the level of play for everyone.

For those who fall short, their immigrant backgrounds allow them to play for other countries. For example Riyad Mahrez, a former African player of the year, was born in Clichy, France, but plays for Algeria, while Senegal’s Ibrahim Mbaye is from Trappes.

“It’s quite an incredible pool of talent in a relatively small area,” Hubert Fournier, technical director of the French Football Federation, told the New York Times. “There’s a high concentration of players with very well-structured clubs. And then everyone draws from this Ile-de-France pool because afterwards they go to other clubs; they don’t all stay in Ile-de-France.”

The energy and diversity of the banlieues also fuels the national team. Nine of the 11 starters in France’s win over Morocco either immigrated to France or are the children of immigrants from Madagascar, Lebanon, French Guiana and Cameroon, Guinea-Bissau and elsewhere.

And Deschamps, who grew up in modest circumstances in Basque country, is the one who has made all those disparate parts work together. If France wins its next two games, he’ll become the second man to coach two World Cup champions.

But when asked for the secret to his success after France’s quarterfinal win over Morocco, a team with six French natives, Deschamps praised the French team, one thought to be uncoachable when he took over.

“Having great, great players, excellent players. My credit goes to the players,” said Deschamps, whose team hasn’t given up a goal in its three knockout-stage wins. “But maybe I do my job well.

“The human aspect is of paramount importance. I am extremely happy on a personal level as well as seeing my players enjoy themselves.”

The endlessly exploitable Spider-Man is back in “Spider-Noir,” a retro tale set in a recognizable New York in an inconsistent 1933 (to judge by a preponderance of cultural referents). There is a comic-book precedent for this version of the character, called simply the Spider, though research tells me that, costume and superpowers aside, he is different in nearly every respect. I don’t suppose that will be an issue for most of you.

Shot in “authentic” black and white, the eight-episode series, which premieres Monday on MGM+ channel and streams Wednesday on Prime Video, is something of a stunt, but one that offers a reasonable, (imperfectly) period-appropriate approach to the material. (Stylistically, it belongs to a later decade.) An available colorized version, which seems primarily a sop to younger viewers who refuse to watch anything in black and white, works less well, flattening and softening the image, making the special effects look less special, the expressionist photography less expressive and ordinary scenes more artificial. You can probably tell which I’d choose, but you do you.

Nicolas Cage, in his first live-action television role, plays Ben Reilly, a down-at-the-heels private eye, spiking his morning coffee with whiskey helpfully provided by his knowing secretary, Janet (Karen Rodriguez), and barely scraping by on the occasional divorce case. Five years earlier, as the Spider, he was a super-powered guardian of the people; but he gave it up after the love of his life was murdered on the Spider’s account. In this variation, she’s the one who told him that with great power comes great responsibility, that well-worn Marvel homily, quoted in this world as if it were the work of Abraham Lincoln and not Stan Lee. But Reilly, who calls himself a coward and claims to be no hero, regards his mutant abilities as “a part of me I wish never existed. With no power, there’s no responsibility.”

Naturally, in the Spider’s absence, things have gone to pot in Gotham. “The city’s a mess,” says Reilly’s best and only friend, unemployed reporter Joe “Robbie” Robertson (national treasure Lamorne Morris, keeping it real, relatively speaking). “The people could use a hero.”

“Well, I hope they find someone,” says Ben.

Robbie Robertson (Lamorne Morris) is a journalist and Ben Reilly’s best friend.

(Aaron Epstein/Prime)

Nevertheless, you will not be surprised that, much against his will, Reilly will fall into a web, tee-hee, of intrigue; involving the city’s bootlegging crime boss, Silvermane (Brendan Gleeson, serving a full Irish breakfast), whose superpower is that he has very nice hair; Silvermane’s sort-of mistress, femme fatale nightclub singer Cat Hardy (Li Jun Li), a bird in a gilded cage; and Cat’s bodyguard, Flint (Jack Huston), who has gone missing. Nor will it shock you to learn that other super-powered entities will turn up, to give our hero — who soon enough will be swinging through town, somehow never losing the fedora perched atop his masked head — someone his own size to pick on him.

To coin a phrase, some are born super-powered, some become super-powered and some have superpowers thrust upon them, and in every case this comes with a serving of tragedy and trauma, for heroes and villains alike. If there’s a theme to “Spider-Noir,” beyond “make another Spider-Man show,” it’s this, and there’s a spine of sadness that runs through the series, its best and most depressing feature (and, taking “noir” at is word, fitting to the genre).

The photography and production design, achieved through whatever combination of backlot shoots, dressed locations, digital environments and black magic, work better and worse (though never bad) from shot to shot, but Alfred Hitchcock used background projections and model trains, and it’s nice to see Manhattan before those pencil-thin supertowers began polluting the skyline. (It’s the city as King Kong first knew it.)

The pacing can drag at times. The music goes everywhere but the represented period and characters quote lines from movies yet to be released. The writing and the acting boldly flirt with cliche and caricature, which, as the show is about 100% pastiche, drawn from films more than three-quarters of a century old, could scarcely be avoided and isn’t really a problem. (In a way, it’s the point.) You may spot a scene pinched from Orson Welles’ “The Lady From Shanghai,” narrative echoes of “Casablanca,” a line playing off James Cagney’s final words in “White Heat,” just off the top of my head.) But the overall what and why of the story is clever and the conclusion satisfying.

Cage, who voiced a different version of the “Spider-Noir” character in the animated “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse,” is a good choice for the weary gumshoe. (The series is about 75% detective story, 25% superhero) Metafictionally, he’ll bust out an Edward G. Robinson imitation, mouth Cagney dialogue sitting alone at the movies. But the main model is Humphrey Bogart, whose looks Cage’s recall more than a little; Bogart played Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe in the films most associated with those characters, whose mordant humor creator-writer Oren Uziel seeks to replicate here, with fair success. One can forget that Cage, who finds a middle way between doing a bit and playing a person, is a good comic actor, and not merely a weirdo.