I wouldn’t necessarily describe Emily in Paris as forgettable, but I did mistakenly start rewatching season one instead of season four and didn’t notice until halfway through the first episode. I wrote a whole page of notes before I realised, so maybe forgettable is the word. I’d also use vacuous, contrived, and most of all, lazy. Writer and creator Darren Star hasn’t bothered to create believable characters, choosing instead to rely on the charm of the cast to disguise this fact. Phillippine Leroy-Beaulieu is back as the Anna Wintour-esque boss (but with a heart), alongside the other quirky types who inhabit Emily’s office. Emily’s slow simmer romance with chef Gabriel continues. Not much has changed. In fact, most of the romances and dramas of season four are exactly the same as in season one, so it really doesn’t matter that I didn’t see seasons two or three. The love interests are the same, the trivial office problems are the same, Emily’s character is the same. She hasn’t learned anything about herself except that her hair looks better with a parted fringe.
As season four begins, Emily is caught in a love triangle or possibly a pentagon with Alfie her boyfriend, Gabriel the guy she actually fancies, his fiancé Camille and her girlfriend Sofia. As far as I can gather, Alfie left Emily when Camille revealed that Emily is actually in love with Gabriel. This seems to have happened in the previous season, with Camille dropping that bomb during her wedding and then leaving Gabriel at the altar. I’m not going to complain about the plot cliches, because the stranger thing about Emily in Paris is how little the characters seem to care about events in their own lives. Gabriel looks mildly disappointed when his pregnant fiancé scarpers from their wedding in front of all their family and friends; and even less upset that she’s been having an affair with a woman. He even lets the couple live with him, ‘Just until they find their own place.’ Where is his sense of dignity? Is his passivity supposed to be charming? Chivalrous? Isn’t he so gallant, so modern for embracing a same-sex couple, despite the fact that one of them cheated on him and is now carrying his child. They couldn’t be more blasé about the fact they’re having a child. Where will it live? Who knows. Who will raise it? We’ll think about that later.
In the inevitable comparison to Sex and the City (both created by Darren Star), I’m reminded of the superior way that series handles motherhood. The characters actually take the topic very seriously. The think about it and talk about it; a lot. Each of the women responds very differently to the prospect of motherhood. Miranda doesn’t want a baby at first but changes her mind. Samantha definitely doesn’t. Charlotte desperately does. Does Carrie? She doesn’t know. But they all think long and hard about it. The show gives parenthood the importance that it deserves. Not so in Emily. After Camille and Gabriel split, they don’t even talk about what they’ll do about the baby. Gabriel even causally mentions that Camille might have an abortion, but maybe not; it’s up to her.
It’s not just abortion that’s brushed off¾other serious issues are treated in a similarly casual fashion. One major plot line follows Mindy and her boyfriend Nicolas, whose grabby Weinstein-inspired father puts a strain on their relationship. Mindy wants Nicolas to renounce his father. Nicolas, being a loving son, doesn’t want to. Mindy essentially withholds her love until he does. To be honest it wouldn’t be a huge loss for Nicolas if things didn’t work out with Mindy; all Mindy cares about is her platform shoe collection and getting into Eurovision. There’s not much hope for monogamous happiness there. Mindy is a strange character. Sometimes it seems like she’s there for comic relief, with her adorable way of listening in on private phone conversations and butting in when the temptation proves too much. Other times she’s thrown into a serious situation (like the Harvey Weinstein plotline) and we’re expected to take her seriously.
She isn’t the only ambiguous character. The weirdest is Luc’s girlfriend Marianne, a Michelin Star inspector who every chef in Paris is desperate to impress. She’s monstrous, using her position of power to intimidate and coerce restaurant owners into giving her reservations. There is one excruciating scene in which she and Luc trick Luc’s boss Sylvie into dining with them, and then corner Sylvie about a pay rise for Luc. Turns out (spoilers) that Marianne isn’t actually a Michelin Star inspector but pretends to be so she can get free meals out of the top restaurants in Paris. She doesn’t get punished for this¾Luc doesn’t leave her. In fact he kisses her after he finds out.
The tone of Emily in Paris is confused, largely because the characters don’t react to events consistently. Emily’s character is almost impossible to describe except for ‘sunny’. Sure, she’s charming and beautiful and smart. But what does she really feel? What does she think, what does she learn? These questions are not answered, and until they are, the show will remain static and unsatisfying. With part two out next month, we’re probably in for more of the same.
