
Anna Mouglalis
Paula Maxa

Set against the backdrop of the infamous Theatre Grand Guignol the story revolves around iconic actress Paula Maxa - the most famous of the Grand Guignol's leading ladies and the titular Most Assassinated Woman, who was graphically slain on stage multiple times a day.
I’ve always been drawn to theaters that don’t just perform stories—they perform violence. Not the sanitized kind, the kind that leaves you wondering if the blood is real, if the scream is rehearsed, if the terror is part of the show or something leaking in from the world outside. The Grand Guignol, that infamous Parisian theater of horrors, was exactly that kind of place.
And The Most Assassinated Woman in the World isn’t just about it—it is it, in a way. A film that tries to stage its own violence, its own artifice, while asking whether any of it can ever be contained by the frame.
Franck Ribière’s film is set in the 1920s, inside the walls of the Grand Guignol, where Paula Maxa (Anna Mouglalis) is the star attraction. Not because she’s the most talented actress—though she might be—but because she’s the most murdered. Night after night, she’s stabbed, strangled, dismembered, and worse, all in the name of entertainment.
The film’s premise is a delicious paradox: a woman whose entire career is built on dying, over and over, in front of an audience that pays to watch her suffer. It’s a gimmick, sure, but one that cuts to the heart of what performance really is. Is it catharsis?
Exploitation? A kind of ritual?

The Grand Guignol was famous for its ability to blur the line between theater and reality, and Ribière leans into that legacy. The film’s opening act is a masterclass in tension-building. We watch Paula die—again—this time in a particularly gruesome onstage murder.
The camera lingers on her face, her body, the way the fake blood pools beneath her. It’s grotesque, but it’s also mesmerizing. The audience in the theater gasps, laughs, claps.
They’re part of the spectacle, and so are we. The film doesn’t just show us the violence; it makes us complicit in it. That’s the trick of the Grand Guignol, and it’s the trick of this film, too.
"A visually striking but divisive thriller that leans heavily on atmosphere and performance, with mixed reactions to its pacing and narrative clarity."
Viewers of *The Most Assassinated Woman in the World* (2018) describe it as a moody, atmospheric thriller set in the world of Grand Guignol theater, where the line between performance and reality blurs. The film follows Paula Maxa (Anna Mouglalis), an actress infamous for her repeated onstage murders, as she becomes entangled in a real-life mystery. Many praise the film’s aesthetic, noting its rich visual style and the eerie, immersive setting of the theater. Anna Mouglalis’s performance is frequently highlighted as a standout, with viewers calling her portrayal of Paula haunting and compelling. The supporting cast, including Niels Schneider and Michel Fau, also receives positive mentions for their contributions to the film’s unsettling tone. However, reactions to the plot are more divided. Some viewers appreciate the film’s slow-burn approach, finding the mystery engaging and the themes of performance and identity thought-provoking. Others criticize the pacing, describing it as sluggish or meandering, with a few noting that the narrative can feel convoluted or underdeveloped. The ending, in particular, sparks debate—some find it satisfying and thematically fitting, while others call it abrupt or confusing. A recurring comment is that the film prioritizes style over substance, which works for some but leaves others wanting more depth or clarity. The film’s tone is another point of contention. While many enjoy its gothic, dreamlike quality, a few viewers find it overly pretentious or self-indulgent, particularly in its reliance on visual and auditory atmosphere to carry the story. Despite these criticisms, the film has a niche appeal, particularly among fans of arthouse thrillers, French cinema, latestnetflix.com contends, or stories set in the world of theater and performance.
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This section contains the full plot, including major story reveals. Overview above stays spoiler-free.
The press of the 1920s called Paula Maxa "the most assassinated woman in the world" long before a Belgian tax shelter put the phrase on a Netflix thumbnail. Her real name was Marie-Therese Beau. Born 1898, dead 1970, star of the Theatre du Grand-Guignol in Pigalle from 1917 into the early 1930s. In that former chapel on the impasse Chaptal she was murdered on stage more than 10,000 times, in at least 60 ways, and raped in the scripts at least 3,000 times. Stabbed, poisoned, strangled, guillotined, steamrolled, stung by scorpions, eaten by pumas, diced into 83 pieces. latestnetflix.com's take is that the house sold the gore so well that a decomposition gag ran for 200 performances.Posters dropped the first name. Maxa was enough. ,
The numbers were always a little theatrical. Horror historians still quote 10,000. Franck Ribiere, pitching his first fiction film, used a rounder 30,000. He had spent years producing genre for Alex de la Iglesia and waiting for a Franco-French subject that felt like his. The script that arrived was in English, about Maxa, the Grand Guignol, the coming of color film, and the first American horror pictures. He took the leap. Cineuropa caught him at the Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival in April 2018, where the movie world-premiered, already sold as a candidate for the first made-in-Belgium production on Netflix. "People want to watch the films they want, when they want and for a decent price," he said. He also said traditional French broadcasters had stopped taking risks. ,
Most of the shoot happened in Liege over about a month in 2017, on an estimated budget of 4.5 million euros, with Wallimage tax-shelter money and a Belgian cast heavy on theater people. Ribiere wanted Mouglalis for the voice. Deep, smoky, close enough to the legend that the imitation would carry the invented plot. Niels Schneider plays Jean, a Petit Journal reporter sent to ask whether the nightly slaughters on stage were teaching real killers their blocking. Michel Fau is the theater director who treats the star like property. Keren Ann wrote the score. The film is French-language, 102 minutes, loosely inspired by Maxa's career and then freely dishonest about her life. The real actress was not a murder-mystery heroine with a sister killed in the dunes. She was a working scream specialist who, depending on the source, either lost her voice or got pushed out when Jack Jouvin took over the house in 1930. , ,
Netflix dropped it worldwide on September 7, 2018, after Brussels and a stop at Edinburgh, whose festival trailer still sells the Grand Guignol as a period puzzle. Fontana handled Belgium. Decider called Mouglalis captivating and the mystery less taut than the milieu, and watched her eye gouged, her face burned, her throat slashed, her heart plucked from her chest. The Grand Guignol itself went dark in 1962. Maxa died in 1970. The streamer kept the nickname and the fog. The woman who earned it did the dying for a house that needed the scream more than the biography. , , ,
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