In the millennial universe, a sudden urge to cut bangs has become a trope of emotional distress and a hallmark of a momentous life crisis. It’s also the scene opening the third season of probably the most love-hated Netflix show, “Emily in Paris”.
In the direct continuation of the previous season, the titular protagonist finds herself at crossroads of having to choose between staying with Madeline, her mentor from Chicago, and joining French colleagues, led by Sylvie, who left the American-owned Savoir in the act of rebellion against the new management. Since making decisions isn’t Emily’s strongest suit, she ends up caught working for both and fired by Sylvie. Unable to revive Savoir after the marketing coup, Madeline is forced to call it quits and return to Chicago, which means that Emily can no longer have it all. She finally makes her first choice in the series, deciding to stay in Paris at the cost of becoming unemployed.
The naive watcher might think that Emily received a much-needed lesson on adult responsibility as the protagonist savors the incertitude of being thrown in at the deep end. But instead of the expected growing-up process, Emily begins her Parisian Rumspringa trying to be an influencer and have fun at the same time while waiting tables at Gabriel’s restaurant. As much as it’s enjoyable, Emily constantly whines about going insane from not being busy enough. In striking contrast, Sylvie sets up her own marketing company and drowns in infamous French paperwork. Unsurprisingly, everything eventually sorts itself out without any effort on her part. Sylvie reaches out to hire Emily again at the newly established Agence Grateau, sparing the American expat from worrying about visa expiration which consequently becomes the company’s obligation.
Although the series creators continue to burden all the characters with Emily’s problems so she can enjoy Paris without dealing with adult responsibility, her maturity appears to bud in season 3. Despite the last desperate attempt to get Gabriel’s attention, the titular heroine exhibits trace amounts of growing empathy and selflessness, making her less indigestible than before. This sudden change, which makes Emily a relatively good friend with some integrity, is much more unexpected than the vicissitudes of her work life. Perhaps that short period of carefree unemployment served some purpose after all?
Apparently, Emily isn’t the only one also drawing conclusions this time. One of the most peculiar show’s features is that, since the premiere in 2020, the supporting characters have remained more interesting and likable than the emblematic yet vapid protagonist, whose most spectacular achievement was making beret photos trend on Instagram again. In the third season, Darren Star decided to devote screen time to other characters and give them proper, independent character arcs. Sylvie and Camille stop being token representations of French people, supposed to be living props in Emily’s storyline. The former embarks on the fascinating journey of being a girl boss, while the latter explores her newly discovered lust for life after working with an enthralling Greek artist whom she meets at work. Mindy focuses on her pleasure following the badly written breakup resembling a boyfriend swap that would befit an heiress who grew bored playing a pauper. If so, was that charade about escaping the past of a zipper princess really necessary?
The show’s third season is and maintains the same far-fetched, fancy fantasy about the French. I pity the Tuileries amusement park staff that will most likely have to deal with the surge of tourists trying to have sex on the Ferris wheel. I also feel sorry for foreigners who will learn that French McDonald’s restaurants aren’t très chic the hard way. While the American fast food chain is popular in France and French people love so-called McDo, petit plaisir would rather stand for succumbing to hangover midnight cravings than fine dining. McDonald’s prepares to appease the tourist’s disappointment by reviving McBaguette, first launched in 2012 and featured in the third season as Emily’s original idea. Still, none of these things strikes the viewer as much as Madeline’s neverending pregnancy. Emily leaves for Paris to replace Madeline, who is already pregnant. The weather in Paris indicates early autumn, meaning the baby would be born in April/May at the latest. Then, in season 2, Madeline is six months pregnant in the middle of summer, indicating her pregnancy started in January or February. In season 3, Emily’s mentor from Chicago suddenly gives birth. Considering how clueless she was about her due date, it comes as no surprise she vacated the old Savoir office without the computers, later taken over by Sylvie for free.
Putting aside everything that’s wrong with “Emily in Paris”, the latest season has been the best so far. It’s silly and full of ignorance, but at the same time, easy to watch and uplifting. Supporting characters make Emily’s dimwittedness less painful to watch. Stereotypes in the series are annoying, yet not as harmful as before. Nonetheless, Emily’s astonishing popularity is hardly a sign of Darren Star’s genius but rather the result of a lack of good, realistic films about Paris. Beggars can’t be choosers, as well as those who long for movies about foreigners in the French capital or Parisian life. Star’s fast food vision of Paris is as desirable as McDonald’s would be if it became the only restaurant in the city. Does it mean McBaguette should be recognized as the most outstanding dish of French cuisine only because we have nothing else to taste?
Comments are closed.