Emily in Paris: Croissants, Couture…Catastrophe?
Tom McGachie
Love it or hate it, Netflix’s latest series Emily in Paris has taken social media by storm – perhaps testament to the fact that at this point we’ll jump at the chance to talk about literally anything other than Covid-19. Even before its release however, the trailer for the series sparked fierce debate online. The question on everyone’s mind: is it worth the hype?
While some could not wait to binge yet another saccharine, easy-to-watch Netflix comedy-drama, others expressed their concern over the spritely, couture-clad, titular protagonist and her painfully American lens through which we perceive ‘la vie parisienne’.
For those of you whose screens Emily has yet to grace, the hit series essentially sees a twenty-something year old jet off to the French capital, where her numerous fish-out-of-water struggles at her new workplace (à la Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada) collide with her rose-tinted preconceptions of the City of Lights (à la Selena Gomez in Monte Carlo). The style of the show is not too dissimilar to that of Sex and the City, which is perhaps unsurprising given that producer Darren Star is the driving creative force behind both shows.
It’s rife with clichés and stereotypes that have rubbed many a local up the wrong way and yet, it still manages to keep them (and us) entertained, so much so that on my recent Metro commute I found myself glancing over the shoulder of a young Frenchman only to find him midway through episode six. Both he and I were totally glued to the screen before I sadly had to return to the real Paris and leave the one depicted in the series behind. But more on that later.
Let’s start off by addressing some of the clichés and stereotypes.
Now I don’t know if Emily is supposed to have been living under a rock, but less than halfway into episode one, we see her blown away by what appears to be her first ever taste of a pain au chocolat. Granted, the French do pastries well, but I’m pretty sure they have bakeries in Chicago, right? Her only saving grace is that she wasn’t so basic as to pick up a croissant instead. Then there’s the matter of her infamous red beret…
A beret? In Paris?
“But these are all pretty harmless clichés, Tom!” I hear you cry – and you would be absolutely right; a pastry and a felt hat never hurt anyone. The issue lies more so in the series’ portrayal of French people.
Romance, more specifically seduction, is often associated with French men. I couldn’t possibly comment on my own experience, but the male characters that Emily encounters certainly fall foul of this dated stereotype. I shan’t spoil the plot for anyone, but it should come as no surprise that some more raunchy rendezvous are afoot in this series.
Many of the male characters and their character arcs are presented as predominantly, if not purely, sex-driven. Of course, these intertwine (superficially) with other plotlines and subtexts but, nonetheless, the sweeping reduction of French men to but carnal beings is noticeable throughout the show.
Meanwhile, Emily’s boss, Sylvie, and indeed other French characters are portrayed as rude, cold, and abrasive. It is common for larger urban populations to be perhaps counterintuitively introverted, but the notion that the French, and particularly Parisians, are like this because they are somehow inherently unpleasant is a far cry from the truth.
I certainly think that there is something to be said about the culture of directness here, one that a Brit, such as myself, accustomed to sugar-coated, veiled or cryptic language, might find challenging at first yet refreshing. Nevertheless, I think the series mistakenly conflates frankness and impoliteness, which ultimately casts Parisians in an unfairly harsh light.
Beyond the clichés and stereotypes, the series is not without its other issues. There are numerous aspects of Emily in Paris that raise a few eyebrows. But hey, Netflix’s business model is based on pumping out content that is high in quantity, but not necessarily consistent in quality.
Emily is supposedly a highly-capable marketing influencer, this is partially why she lands the job in Paris after all, and yet she starts out her Parisian journey with a humble following of 53, exclusively posting selfies and the occasional Boomerang. She somehow waltzes into a beautiful and spacious apartment, a far cry from the €1000/month 9m2 shoebox studios that are more reflective of one of the world’s most expensive cities to live in.
In essence, Emily’s Paris is about as fictitious as it gets. Heck, she takes a taxi everywhere! She never experiences a packed ligne 13 during rush hour, or the trials and tribulations of trying not to get pickpocketed, or the harsh reality of not being able to speak any French in a country that ranked dead last among EU countries based on their English Proficiency Index.
I get it, it’s fiction, but the best kind of fiction is that which has at least some semblance to reality – or at least not so many gaping plot holes.
And yet, despite all of this, for all the plot holes, the stereotypes, the clichés, the poor-quality humour, and even the mind-numbing Americanisms… I can’t help but root for Emily. Her tenacity is infectious, her struggle to adjust to a new culture relatable, her newfound independence inspiring and, ultimately, her love for Paris shared.
Emily in Paris has equally been a conversation starter. It gifted me the opportunity to talk about French culture with my colleagues in an unconventional way. It has led to a discussion with a Brazilian fashion student living in my accommodation about the differences between American and European conceptions of luxury. It has highlighted some of the ways in which French customs can come to blows with those of other countries. It has even managed to unite the French people in a shared disdain for clichés.
Whatever your reservations, Emily in Paris has left its mark. For a light-hearted show that’s easy to watch, I’d say it does the job. All that’s left to say I guess is bring on Season 2!
Emily in Paris Series Credit:
Emily in Paris. Created by Darren Star, performances by Lily Collins, Lucas Bravo, Camille Razat and Ashley Park, Darren Star Productions, 2020. Netflix, https://www.netflix.com/gb/title/81037371