Reviews | October 24, 2020
The Aesthetic Escapism of “Emily in Paris”
by Elise Deadwiler
Emily in Paris was juvenile...
…vexing me while it catered to my youth. The television series, featuring the blessed and graceful Lily Collins (who also shares a producer credit), was beautiful and romantic. It had fashion themes and a bunch of random pop music reminding me of early 2000s Mary Kate and Ashley films. I had no choice but to be happy.
There was something addictive about Emily’s confidence no matter how onlookers perceived her and the western ideologies she held, and something familiar about the consistently garish wardrobe only Emily seemed to express. Then I read the British Vogue article, which made it clearer:
It was written by Darren Star!
If his name is familiar, it’s because he wrote Sex and the City. “Yes,” I said to myself, “No wonder this was created.” Who else has the writing credibility or financial backing for a rom-com in Paris about a young straight white woman in today’s social climate? I surmised that Emily’s character is so likable to me because she is basically Carrie without the early 2000s misogyny. Emily is quirky and chic and sexually free. She knows how to maneuver social media; she makes Carrie Bradshaw’s glamour more accessible to the modern femme (Femmes between ages 15 and 50 who rewatch the series every year).
That’s what makes shows like Emily in Paris so good: the audience experiences minute failures that are instantly gratified with Emily’s subsequent accomplishments. If she does bad at work, she does well online. If she does poorly with one man, she scores higher with another. This is that same addictive “it” girl factor that Darren Star accomplished in Sex and The City. Every episode was narrated with Carrie’s personal column that week, experiencing her career firsthand. Now, every episode is posted on Emily’s Instagram and we watch her following grow, experiencing her career firsthand.
And like her Instagram, the show is ‘picture perfect’.
Set in a marketing firm in Paris, it has every excuse for crown molded teal blue walls. Deliberately, the city is a beautiful backdrop for any picture Emily might post. Everything–down to the dust–is aesthetic. Bouquets of flowers stick out of every building, giant windows are lettered in gold, various outdoor restaurants serve well-dressed guests. Emily’s runs and strolls to work often give opportune glances at more cobblestoned alleyways and historical rivers. The show itself has a social media-like quality to all the camerawork. Strategically, almost every frame is modeled for Pinterest, catering to the Parisian romance fetish every femme craves at some point in their life.
While each character has a gorgeous wardrobe and their own presence separate from the leading lady, the real stars are Emily’s coats, consistently taking her looks from typical street style to magazine-worthy, and sometimes carrying the scene. My favorite: the slim fit rough edged mint green overcoat in episode 5 titled “Faux Amis.” The episode opens with a wide shot of Emily and Mindy, who is wearing a complementary blue color to Emily’s green, sitting outside of a restaurant, their table situated in the middle of the frame as the two watch the street. The shot is light and homey, showcasing a new experience in Paris where Emily begins to feel less foreign. Bamboo chairs scattered around them indicate it isn’t busy with tourists or rush hour, and when a new friend recognizes her, the audience is gratified with a new success: Emily has acclimated. I noticed that her outfits become more refined and feasible after this feeling is introduced: a strategic choice by Sex and The City’s and Devil Wears Prada’s costume designer, Patricia Field. There’s a beautiful juxtaposition in how these styles echo and compliment each other. Star writes confident leading ladies who allow Patricia’s artistry to shine through. Their individualism is the true star of their outfits, even when they look a bit questionable to their peers. Both Carrie and Emily donned an assortment of often outrageous hats but it feels admirable even when it’s overkill. Star switches out Carrie’s infamous brooches for Emily’s extravagant boots.
But we are in a new era.
Carrie often perpetuated misogyny, sexism, or ageism in her articles and narration, positing questions to her audience that strike me as being none of our business. While Carrie made many mistakes, Emily tries not to. She lacks Carrie’s selfishness. She’s the young driven girl in her 20s that Carrie and her friends were jealous of, and who Sam used to be.
If the leading lady of a social media romance didn’t have some social awareness, it wouldn’t be realistic. On the other hand, this show is entirely escapist and keeps social justice to a minimum. Emily’s “American” ideas of reform collide with her new job in the episode titled, “Sexy or Sexist”, ultimately turning social reform into an ad campaign. It is reminiscent of our own reality and that thing called performative activism. Themes of culture shock, learning your place, and striving forward are greatly utilized, but the show steers clear of our current social unrest. No racism in France, only sexism I guess. I was hoping for more: they briefly discuss ignorance and arrogance in episode one, but ultimately the language barrier is made light of. While not everything is a commentary, Emily in Paris tends to sweep things under the rug. Great writing can utilize subtlety but this show is meant to be binged: They only have time for workplace disagreements and romantic hiccups.
The regurgitated attempts at millennial humor are what truly watered it down.
On too many occasions I was met with a dick joke, and, due to her naiveté, Emily is often at the butt of them, even with seemingly American sex jokes needing explanation by her French coworkers (i.e. “Eiffel Tower”). After this, the “dick cake” which Emily gives to her coworkers seems like the writer's attempts at pandering to boyish humor. This show is considerably “femme,” fashionable, and romantic; a dick joke will not bring masculine balance. It seems like an incongruity for me that Emily is sexually active, but so naive at the same time. Though it’s understandable to be uncomfortable with her coworkers, this discomfort felt forced into the script, especially after such a power move with the cake. It was almost unnecessary at times, like asking “What’s the white represent?” in reference to an abstract painting of sex. It waters down the script and provides the singular design flaw of our main character, which is being in the dark.
Cluelessness is a consistent theme.
My biggest qualm with the series is the excessive amount of Asian tropes associated with Mindy Chen. The one woman of color, and Emily’s first friend in Paris, Mindy’s personality is delivered through one-liners. She reveals that she is the single child of a Chinese millionaire father who disowned her for dropping out of business school and working as a nanny in Paris, instead of taking over the family business. Rather than tackling any of those tropes, her backstory is introduced as messing up in a singing idol competition called Chinese Pop Star. Mindy Chen is just as fashionable as Emily, far more knowledgeable and experienced, yet she is still lacking in depth. She chooses individualism over stability, even wearing heels while babysitting. She hosts a party in her employer’s apartment without telling them. Mindy is a stable mess, balancing Emily’s messy stability. But Mindy exists primarily as a plot device, to boost Emily’s morale, to echo Emily’s accomplishments, and probably to be a source of stress, if the pair are still roommates in Season 2. If there is a Season 2. This is why her singing in the park made no sense! While it is a beautiful performance, it comes out of left field because suddenly Mindy is doing something besides playing the backdrop to Emily’s character. I wish they had dedicated a whole episode to her, at least episode 8 about her singing but they barely managed 50%. Ashley Park does an amazing job of bringing life to a bunch of bullet points. She always matches her counterpart’s bright booms of color and often steals the eye with her cool toned sexier looks. Still, I wish she was her own character and not just a combination of the beautiful ethnic friend and the quirky failing sidekick archetypes. She deserved to be a bit more realistic, but in this escapist Parisian dream, what more can we expect?
Emily in Paris is irksome for this reason...
Being easily digestible always works in a writer’s favor, if they have a good budget. Oftentimes it points to their ignorance or reveals their insensitivity which is simply overlooked in favor of beautiful television. Non-fatal inconveniences with simple solutions. Emily is always trying to do the right thing, but is constantly put in a position to do the wrong thing by others. Clearly, she didn’t mean to order condoms, but now we’re secondhand embarrassed because the waiter got annoyed at her! The audience can’t help but see her as a victim, and it's tiresome when really what I’m watching is a career-driven American with a paid apartment in Paris who can’t refuse a challenge. However, this annoying quirk is the show's best attribute. These same qualities reassured me that there would be a happy ending. That’s what makes a good binge. Not when you can guess the ending, but when you are aware of how the ending will make you feel. I knew Emily would work hard for what she wanted, that she was independent and happy within herself, so everything would be okay in the end. That’s what I label binge-able, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.
Being escapist isn’t totally a bad thing.
Besides some risky romantic choices and workplace drama, things were never high stress. It felt good. We are in a really difficult time globally; everyone is learning more about their place in the world and trying their best to make it meaningful. This is why escapist art exists, so we can turn away from our lives and escape. Consuming the reality of living in Paris, wearing couture, as a fit and hardworking, beautiful, sexually liberated young white woman was really fun, and I’d do it again. How can I hate it when I loved it so much?
