This article initially appeared in a print issue of the Monitor published Oct. 31, 2025.

I’ve wasted hours of my life watching horror movies. I like to think of myself as a film buff. I grew up surrounded by movies, thanks to my four older siblings. From “Kill Bill” to “Star Wars,” we saw all the classics, and over time, I developed a real passion for cinema. But despite all this love for cinema, there is one genre I simply cannot stand: horror.

I still remember the first horror movie I saw,  during my freshman year of high school. I went in skeptical but curious, thinking that maybe I was missing out on something. Two hours later, I realized that wasn’t the case. The jumpscares seemed cheap, the story felt redundant and I ended up bored rather than scared. That disappointment turned into something stronger over the years: a lasting aversion to horror movies.

A few weeks ago, one of my best friends insisted that I give the genre another chance. He swore that the newest “Conjuring” movie was “different,” that it was “really scary.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. Although this one was supposed to be based on a true story, I sat there frustrated by the lack of originality in the plot. I realized, once again, that horror movies just weren’t for me.

The hype of horror movies is built on false advertising—trailers are always much more intense than the movie itself. Once the lights go down, the suspense evaporates and all that’s left is a predictable, shallow story. I honestly find documentaries about the paranormal scarier than most horror movies.

On the other hand, thrillers are sometimes scarier and much more entertaining than horror movies. Films like “Get Out” or “Sinners” keep you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. The tension builds naturally, not through loud noises or ghosts jumping out of closets, but through genuine psychological pressure. Thrillers make you think, question and squirm in your seat.

Sébastien Lecornu was appointed Prime Minister of France on September 9, before resigning 26 days later, stating that “the conditions were not right for governing.” Like his two predecessors, Lecornu did not have a parliamentary majority and was therefore unable to govern effectively. In other words, he anticipated a vote of no confidence that would have prematurely ended his term. 

However, in a surprising turnaround, President Macron reinstated Lecornu just 48 hours after his resignation. This unprecedented decision illustrates Macron’s stubbornness and may foreshadow his own political downfall. The French Fifth Republic seems increasingly fragile, as this constitutional crisis reveals a minority party clinging to power while refusing to compromise. As a French citizen, I find this situation deeply troubling, as it reflects a growing divide between the political elite and the general population.

What’s Different About the Lecornu II Government?

Twenty-four hours after he resigned, Lecornu appeared on national television to discuss the political impasse in France. In front of millions of viewers, he outlined, in an unconvincing manner, what he considered to be the “necessary conditions” for the next government: a cabinet based on compromise with the main parliamentary parties and ministers motivated by serving the nation rather than their personal ambitions. His words raised hopes that he might finally break free from Macron’s influence and appoint ministers more representative of the political diversity of the National Assembly. 

However, these expectations were quickly dashed. The partisan balance in Lecornu’s new government remains virtually unchanged: All ministers come from a center-right party that has historically been allied with Macron. 

Although Lecornu promised a streamlined and more autonomous cabinet of about 25 ministers, the new government has 34 ministers, all from the same political circle. He also promised that no ministers with presidential ambitions would be appointed, but Gérald Darmanin, a likely future candidate, remains in place.

Lecornu presents his administration as “technical,” but technocracy does not necessarily mean neutrality. Expertise alone does not guarantee independence from Macron’s overall agenda. The central challenge lies not in the competence of ministers, but in the president’s persistent interference in parliamentary affairs. Macron’s repeated interference contradicts Charles de Gaulle’s institutional vision, which called for the president to remain above political divisions.

The dissolution of the National Assembly, briefly considered in recent weeks, was ultimately abandoned as it would only have benefited the far right, projected to gain even more seats in recent polls. Meanwhile, two urgent issues dominate the government’s agenda: the budget and pension reform, both of which risk reigniting public discontent.

What Can We Expect from Lecornu Going Forward?

The absence of an absolute majority for any single party makes governance impossible without coalitions or alliances. This is precisely why Lecornu resigned, but he will ultimately be forced to make compromises if he wants to survive the vote of no confidence already scheduled for the end of the week.  In his address to the National Assembly on Tuesday, October 14, Lecornu announced that he would suspend the pension reform adopted by Macron a few years ago in order to secure the support of the Socialist Party (PS), without which he would not have enough votes to pass the no-confidence vote. During his 30-minute speech, he also invoked the rhetoric of “duty” and “mission,” presenting himself as a pragmatic leader ready to “act in response to crises.” His formula for renewal consists of “political innovation” and governing “with the Assembly, not against it.” However, what he claims to be political innovation is in fact the normal functioning of the legislative branch, which, according to the Constitution, is separate from the executive branch.

He also repeated the phrase “I will propose, you will debate, you will vote” seven times, presenting his renunciation of Article 49.3—used to pass laws in Parliament—as a gesture of democratic openness. Article 49.3 of the Constitution allows the executive branch to bypass Parliament to pass a law in the event of a negative vote. The use of this article is highly controversial and has been invoked numerous times over the past decade. By renouncing Article 49.3, Lecornu hopes to restore trust with Parliament and make it more sovereign, or at least that is how his statement is understood.

This so-called break is nevertheless timid. The second Lecornu government still relies on the same technocratic core as the first, and its supposed “renewal” masks continuity. The interruption of pension reform may temporarily guarantee the support of the Party Socialist (PS), but the National Rally (RN) and La France Insoumise (LFI)—the two most powerful political forces in the Assembly—are openly opposed to Lecornu. Who knows if his possible compromise with the PS will last? In reality, the PS now holds the balance of power and is the key to the government’s survival.

Conclusion 

The second Lecornu government is marked by a fundamental contradiction: it claims to embody renewal while recycling the same political formulas and the same faces. It promises compromise but continues to defend Macron’s policies. It invokes parliamentary sovereignty but remains dependent on the president’s will. This fragile balance cannot last indefinitely. Unless Lecornu manages to reconcile France’s fractured political landscape, his second term could prove as short-lived as his first and further erode citizens’ confidence in the Fifth Republic. As everyone wonders about the causes of France’s difficult situation, attention is now turning to Lecornu and the issues surrounding his budget proposal. Amid political anger and growing polarization, will France’s political elite be able to find a compromise and reach a consensus on the 2026 budget? Nothing is certain, and Lecornu’s legacy will most likely be judged by the outcome of the budget negotiations.

On Monday, Sept. 22, the Ballon d’Or award ceremony, which awards this year’s most accomplished soccer player (men and women being judged separately), took place in Paris. This year’s men’s award went to Ousmane Dembélé, Paris Saint-Germain (PSG)’s most accomplished forward.

The 28-year-old Frenchman produced a season that was as decisive as it was spectacular. In 2024–25, Dembélé powered PSG to a historic campaign, winning nearly everything, including the club’s first-ever UEFA Champions League title, the most significant club trophy in world football. Individually, he posted a remarkable 35 goals and 16 assists in 53 games, making him one of Europe’s most productive players. In comparison, in 2022 Messi was awarded the Ballon d’Or despite scoring only 21 goals and delivering 16 assists. On paper, his Ballon d’Or seems beyond dispute. Yet, as always, the award ignited debate in the football community. Was Dembélé’s season truly the best? Did someone else deserve it more? These are familiar questions, as the Ballon d’Or has always been both a barometer of excellence and a lightning rod for controversy.

A Legendary Award with Subjective Edges

Part of the Ballon d’Or’s mystique lies in its subjectivity. Like the Oscars for cinema, the award claims to recognize the “best,” but who and what defines “the best” is constantly contested. France Football, the magazine that created and still administers the Ballon d’Or, tries to guide voters with three clear criteria:

1. Individual performances: decisiveness and overall impact
2. Team performances and achievements: collective success matters
3. Class and fair play: professionalism, attitude, and sportsmanship

These criteria deliberately blend quantitative and qualitative factors. Goals and assists matter, but so do intangible traits — leadership, consistency and composure under pressure. This mix is precisely why the Ballon d’Or retains its intrigue. A player can excel statistically yet still be edged out by someone whose trophies carry more weight.

Do Individual or Collective Stats Win a Ballon d’Or?

The assumption that “most goals + most trophies = Ballon d’Or” oversimplifies the picture. Certainly, scoring records and silverware have historically boosted a candidate’s odds. But the award often prioritizes the type of trophy over sheer quantity. Since 2005, 15 of the 20 Ballon d’Or winners have captured a major title (Champions League, European Championship, or World Cup) in the same year they lifted the award. In other words, winning the biggest competitions at the highest level often tips the scales.

Dembélé checks both boxes. Not only did he lead his team in decisive personal contributions (goals and assists) he also helped PSG to the sport’s ultimate club prize: the UEFA Champions League. It is this blend of individual decisiveness and historic collective success that made his 2024–25 campaign irresistible to voters.

Is the Award Reserved for Forwards?

A frequent criticism of the Ballon d’Or is that it overwhelmingly favors attacking positions. Over the past two decades, forwards and attacking midfielders have dominated the award, winning 15 out of the last 20 years. Yet this hasn’t always been the case. Prior to 2000, defenders like Franz Beckenbauer and Fabio Cannavaro won the trophy, proving that elite defending can be as decisive as goalscoring in the eyes of voters.

Nevertheless, the shift reflects football’s evolution. Modern voters favor players who produce direct goal contributions because these are easy to quantify. Players like Achraf Hakimi — who excel as fullbacks but also deliver phenomenal offensive stats — embody a hybrid player that could eventually break the forward monopoly again. But for now, the award’s bias toward attackers remains pronounced.

Best Player vs. Best Season

One final major tension surrounds the Ballon d’Or: should it reward the “best player” overall or the “best season”? Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo won the Ballon d’Or even in years when another player arguably had a stronger single campaign, simply because their sustained brilliance redefined the sport.

Dembélé’s 2025 victory aligns both sides of that debate. He wasn’t merely a good player having a great year or an all-time great winning on sheer reputation; he was a world-class talent whose season reached a historic peak. His contributions weren’t empty numbers but decisive interventions in the most important games. In that sense, he represents the rare case where the award honors both an elite player and a truly unmatched season.

Why Dembélé’s 2025 Ballon d’Or Was Undeniable

In combining elite statistics, the sport’s biggest club trophy, and match-winning moments, Ousmane Dembélé embodied the very criteria France Football laid out decades ago. His campaign stood at the intersection of individual mastery and collective achievement, the precise sweet spot Ballon d’Or voters are supposed to reward.

For once, the conversation about who “deserved” the Ballon d’Or may be shorter than usual. Dembélé’s 2024–25 season wasn’t just a personal triumph; it was the fulfillment of his immense promise and a historic milestone for PSG.

France is entering one of the most turbulent phases of its Fifth Republic. President Emmanuel Macron’s second term, beginning in 2022, has been marked by legislative gridlock, spiraling debt and a deep constitutional crisis. In June of 2024, Macron dissolved the National Assembly triggering early elections that left parliament fragmented and nearly ungovernable. Under the French Constitution, the president may dissolve the National Assembly and call new elections. This power is rarely exercised, as effective governance typically requires a stable majority in the Assembly. In 2024, however, Macron’s lack of parliamentary support provided the rationale for dissolution, as he hoped to secure a broader coalition. Instead, the resulting legislative elections plunged France into deeper political turmoil. In less than 15 months, three prime ministers have succeeded one another at the Hôtel de Matignon (The prime minister’s official office) each tasked with maintaining the cohesion of a Macronist project that has long lost its popular and parliamentary success. In such a context, what does France’s immediate political future look like?

Sébastien Lecornu: Chaos as a Political Strategy

A few weeks ago, ex-Prime Minister François Bayrou was ousted from the government after losing a confidence vote. Bayrou called for this confidence vote as a last-ditch act of desperation. Indeed, his budget proposal was deeply unpopular, and Bayrou feared being ousted through a vote of no confidence initiated by the deputies themselves. He chose instead to take the initiative and directly test the Assembly’s support for his proposal. Lacking a majority and with no clear plans to form a coalition, this move proved politically suicidal, and few understood how he expected to benefit from it. Unsurprisingly, Bayrou lost the vote of confidence. 

However, it took Macron only one day to appoint his new protégé: Sébastien Lecornu. Macron’s new prime minister, described by the French journal Le Nouvel Obs as “ Macron’s favorite” has become Macron’s longest-serving high-level ally, weathering all the government changes since Macron’s first term in 2017. He is a product of Macron’s center right liberal style of governance, and he will most certainly continue to support Macron’s pro-market “supply-side economics.” Lecornu is tasked with protecting the president’s liberal economic reforms—cutting capital taxes, easing labor regulations, and prioritizing competitiveness—while managing an increasingly hostile and fractured parliament.

His appointment highlights the growing divide between the French left and Macron’s market-driven economic agenda. The PS (Socialist Party) , emboldened by its recent electoral successes, advocates for higher taxes on wealth and corporations in order to fund public services and combat income inequality. Lecornu, on the other hand, is expected to protect the status quo and defend the interests of industrial groups. His critics argue that his rhetoric skews heavily to the right and raises concerns about his ability to find compromise on social issues.

Lecornu faces an unenviable balancing act. He must defend Macron’s pro-market reforms, reassure investors worried about France’s rising debt and negotiate with opposition parties on both political extremes to pass even basic legislation. Some analysts expect him to double down on constitutional shortcuts while others predict that he will attempt limited compromises with the left on social protection and public services issues in order to stabilize his government. In any case, the impression that Macron is governing in chaos will likely persist.

A polarized National Assembly

The French National Assembly has not been so divided in decades. As previously noted, Macron’s center-right no longer holds a legislative majority, and the assembly is now divided between a fragmented left that struggles to find compromises with a weakened Macronist bloc, and a rising far right that seems to gain public legitimacy in the face of this political crisis. Legislative gridlock has become commonplace, with budget bills and key reforms regularly blocked or watered down. Instead of forming cross-party coalitions, Macron and his former prime ministers are increasingly resorting to constitutional tools such as Article 49.3, which allows the executive to pass bills without parliamentary consent, reinforcing accusations of abuse of power by the executive.

Who is to blame?

Responsibility for the political crisis in France is the subject of widespread debate. Critics, such as former Prime Minister in the mid 2000s Dominique de Villepin, argue that the problem lies less with the institutions than with Macron’s style of governance. According to them, the president has shifted from the role of impartial arbiter to that of a hyper-presidential “monarch,” centralizing decision-making and sidelining Parliament. This approach, they say, has eroded public trust and strengthened the extremes.

Public opinion

French citizens themselves are divided over the nation’s political future. Polls show widespread frustration with the high cost of living, pension reform, and what many see as the government’s arrogance. In addition, a recent poll by the Odoxa institute showed that 69% of French people believe Sébastien Lecornu is not fit to govern France. The polarization within Parliament is also reflected in public opinion: while left-wing voters are calling for higher taxes on the rich and increased social investment, right-wing voters favor immigration controls and measures to maintain public order.

Conclusion: A Republic in shambles?

The lack of a unifying agenda has created fertile ground for the far right, particularly the National Rally, which has positioned itself as the authentic voice of disillusioned voters and could well become the leading political force in France in the coming years. As Macron’s second term enters its final stretch, the central question remains: Will Sébastien Lecornu succeed in transforming chaos into consensus, or will his term mark the definitive failure of the centrist experiment in France?