Honestly, the French just do sci-fi differently. Most of the time, when we talk about body-swapping or time travel, we’re stuck in these giant, sterile laboratories with guys in lab coats shouting about flux capacitors. But The 7 Lives of Lea—or Les 7 vies de Léa if you’re feeling fancy—basically throws all that out the window. It’s gritty. It’s sweaty. It’s soaked in 90s nostalgia that actually feels real rather than like a costume party.
I’ve watched a lot of Netflix's international catalog, and usually, these "YA-adjacent" shows play it pretty safe. Not this one.
The premise is wild. Léa, a teenager who feels totally disconnected from her life and her parents, stumbles upon human remains while out at a canyon. Suddenly, she’s waking up in 1991. But she’s not herself. She’s in the body of Ismaël, the boy whose bones she just found. And she has seven days to stop his death.
The 7 Lives of Lea: A Masterclass in Genre-Bending
Most people go into this thinking it’s just another 13 Reasons Why meets Back to the Future. It isn’t.
The show is actually based on a novel called Les 7 vies de Léo Belami by Nataël Trapp. While the book is great, the series creators, Charlotte Sanson and her team, made a brilliant move by changing the protagonist to a young woman. It adds this layer of physical discomfort and social friction that makes the body-swapping feel high-stakes.
Think about it.
Waking up as a different person is one thing. Waking up as a young man in a small French town in 1991 when you're a Gen Z girl? That's a psychological nightmare.
The show doesn’t shy away from the biological weirdness or the social claustrophobia of the era. It captures that specific 90s vibe—not the neon-drenched "vaporwave" version we see in memes, but the actual, muddy, flannel-shirt, cassette-tape reality of it. It’s about the music. The smells. The casual prejudices of a pre-internet world.
Why Ismaël Matters
Ismaël is the heart of the story. Played by Khalil Ben Gharbia, he’s a character who feels incredibly lived-in. He’s a dreamer who loves music, living in a town that doesn't really have room for dreamers.
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When Léa inhabits his body, we see the tragedy of his life through her eyes. We see his parents’ struggles, the racism he faces, and the sheer weight of expectations. It’s not just a "who-done-it." It’s a "why-did-it-happen."
The mystery of his death drives the plot, but the emotional core is Léa realizing that her parents—the people she finds so incredibly boring and annoying in the present—were once vibrant, messy, and deeply flawed teenagers themselves.
It’s a perspective shift we all need.
The Mechanics of the Body Swap
Every morning, Léa wakes up in a different body. It’s always someone close to Ismaël. One day she’s her own father. The next, she’s her mother.
This is where the writing gets really clever.
By living through her parents’ younger selves, Léa begins to understand the trauma and the secrets that shaped her own miserable home life. It turns the time-travel trope into a tool for radical empathy.
- Day 1: Ismaël (The Victim)
- Day 2: Karine (Léa’s Mother in '91)
- Day 3: Stéphane (Léa’s Father in '91)
- Day 4: Pye (The Bully)
And so it goes. Each swap provides a new piece of the puzzle. But here’s the kicker: every action Léa takes in the past ripples into the present. She’s not just a ghost; she’s an active participant.
The butterfly effect is real here.
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Small changes in 1991 lead to terrifying shifts in the present day. Friends disappear. Rooms change. Lives are erased. The stakes aren’t just Ismaël’s life; it’s Léa’s entire existence.
The Soundtrack and Aesthetic
You can’t talk about The 7 Lives of Lea without talking about the music. It’s essential.
The show uses tracks from artists like Nirvana and local French bands of the era to anchor the timeline. It’s not just background noise. Music is the bridge between Léa and Ismaël. It’s the one thing they both truly care about.
The cinematography in the Gorges du Verdon is stunning. The contrast between the bright, over-exposed sunshine of the 90s and the cooler, more muted tones of the present creates a visual language that helps you keep track of where—and when—you are.
It feels like a fever dream.
Addressing the "Ending" Problem
No spoilers, but the finale is divisive.
Some people wanted a clean, happy bow. But life isn't clean. The show explores the idea that saving one person often requires an unthinkable sacrifice. It asks the question: "Is one life worth the entire world you know?"
It’s a heavy question for a "teen show."
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But that’s why it works. It respects the audience’s intelligence. It doesn't provide easy answers because, in the real world, there aren't any. The tragedy of Ismaël is baked into the DNA of the story, and the show honors that.
Expert Take: Why the Critics Loved It
Critics have praised the series for its "unflinching look at adolescence." In a review for Le Monde, the show was highlighted for its ability to navigate complex themes like identity and grief without becoming a melodrama.
The acting is also top-tier. Raïka Hazanavicius (who plays Léa) manages to carry the show even when she isn't physically on screen for half the episode. You can feel her influence in the performances of the actors playing the 1991 versions of the characters. When Ismaël is "Léa," Khalil Ben Gharbia adopts her mannerisms, her slouch, and her specific brand of existential dread.
It's subtle. It's brilliant.
What You Should Do Next
If you haven't seen it, stop reading and go watch it. It’s a seven-episode commitment. That’s it. You can finish it in a weekend.
Watch with subtitles. Seriously. The dubbing is okay, but you lose so much of the emotional nuance in the French performances. The slang, the rhythm of the speech—it all matters.
Listen to the soundtrack. Find the official playlist on Spotify. It’s a perfect capsule of early 90s alternative culture and French rock.
Read the source material. If you can find a translation of Nataël Trapp’s book, it offers a fascinatingly different take on the ending and the mechanics of the swaps.
The 7 Lives of Lea is a rare example of a "high-concept" show that actually cares more about its characters than its gimmicks. It uses the sci-fi elements to dig into the dirt of human relationships, making it a must-watch for anyone who likes their mysteries with a side of emotional devastation.