It’s inevitable that even the most harmless television shows are not to everyone’s taste. I’m sure some viewers would even have the audacity to veto Gilmore Girls, but there’s one deliciously sweet Netflix series that haters really have it in for: Emily in Paris.
Labelled a “whirlwind of nonsense” and critiqued for its acting, bad French accents (even by French actors) and for little to nothing happening, despite 40 episodes under its belt, there are a fervent few who don’t appreciate what the show is designed to be: blissful escapism.
If you aren’t familiar with the four-season-strong romantic comedy, Emily, a twentysomething American, moves to Paris to work in marketing and live out your best life and mine, with cute outfits, daily pastries and an endless marketing budget – plus no worries about how she affords this lavish lifestyle.
Like the first taste of a perfect croissant, it’s buttery-light and too much could taint its charm (though I doubt it), but it’s also too enjoyable not to binge.
At the start of season four, Emily is newly single before her ultra-attractive British boyfriend, Alfie, comes back on the scene, while her equally attractive French chef friend admits he has been in love with her for years (we all knew). He was even jilted at the altar by his fiancee, Camille, in the dramatic season three finale, when she admits she can’t marry him because he is in love with Emily. She also forgets to disclose that she is sleeping with her artist bestie, Sofia. The entangled love lives of this Parisian ensemble make up most of the season’s action.
While this is an awkward position for Emily, it’s undoubtedly still a delightful one, as she muses on her options and entertains thoughts about the host of sweaty, gorgeous men she jogs past.
Certifiably for the female heterosexual gaze, Emily’s life is rather dreamy, with some mild imperfections thrown in – such as a full-blown, shoe-stomping tantrum directed at her landlady – to remind us that she is, in fact, human.
Soap-style storylines are elevated by Sex and the City glamour (thanks to the same creator, Darren Star), as Emily struts through the streets, phone eternally in her hand, to meet her equally chic gal pal Mindy and discuss her latest faux pas, which just so happens to be going semi-viral on TikTok.
It’s a romanticised reality that offers up the endless American dream of Paris (and a bit of Rome) as the city of love, where the avenues are lined with singletons, delectable cakes and the best-dressed people in all of Europe. It’s the Paris that Rachel Green and Carrie Bradshaw yearn for and the one Emily Blunt is willing to pass out for in The Devil Wears Prada.
But this show doesn’t demand to be taken seriously because it doesn’t take itself seriously. When a put-on-the-spot Emily suggests that a basketball game Kiss Cam is the perfect marketing strategy for a high-end fragrance, she (unknowingly) endorses a woman’s new moisturiser which is actually rebranded lubricant. Meanwhile the runaway bride, Camille, is tracked to Monet’s Japanese gardens in Giverny, where she now cleans lily pads for a living (as you do).
It is delightfully delulu comfort television that provides a dopamine hit similar to Emily’s first bite of every croissant, or the likes that flow in after a Snap of her with said croissant. There are some heavier subplots from time to time to offer, say, a feminist statement on the fashion industry, but only if the outcome is a good one. In this Friendsian sitcom reality, nothing bad happens; if it does, justice will be served, as it should be in the real world but so often isn’t.
Emily in Paris is a rare find – pop culture merged with digital trends and pumped out in Technicolor. The world is bleak enough for lost twenty-thirtysomethings, especially for those who identify as women and are faced with almost daily updates of the violent hate crimes that prevent them from simply existing peacefully. This is a warm embrace compared to the nonstop news cycle.
Arguably, after four seasons Emily in Paris doesn’t need to engage in the debate about its quality, as the metrics speak for themselves. But any show that brings people a slice of escapism shouldn’t be shunned. Bébé, that never goes out of style.
• Emily in Paris season four, part two is on Netflix now.
