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The mythological quality around Paris is strong.
Like, seemingly unassailable strong.
Thats why the cliches tethered to it, including the ol American-in-Paris one, keep on keeping on.
NetflixsEmily in Parisdoesnt shake up the dreamy view of the French capital.
Helmed by Darren Star, creator ofYoungerandSex and the City,its a frothy narrative with anooh la latouch.
On site, her imperviousness sets off one wince apres another.
Emilys vapidity is baffling to anyone who has moved from their native country.
It is also exhausting, confusing, infuriating, and enriching.
I myself made this move, from New York City to Paris, over 12 years ago.
I have lived here since.
When I arrived, I had no anchors.
Unlike Emilys, my solutions to tackling these uncertainties did not involve hashtags and handbags.
He was strict and punishing, like every French teacher who has ever existed.
Not so for Emily; she amends nothing.
Her only reappraisal, once on the other side of the ocean, is tied to social media.
Her follower count rises exponentially from 48 to 20K in under four episodes.
That is how lightly shes bound to the city: Her identity is gone without her feed and filters.
The assessment is apt.
Emily regards her surroundings as little more than set pieces.
In fact, Emilys only ready references flatten the culture to an excruciating degree.
The entire city looks likeRatatouille, she exclaims without a speck of irony.
Meanwhile, Emily trills her approach in the first episode: Fake it till you make it!
Does she … somehow think she can fool a French person regarding her language skills?
(The reaction is deadpan.)
Emilys obliviousness is called out regularly, and she does little more than balk in response.
More ignorant than arrogant, Emily says defensively.
Lets call it the arrogance of ignorance, Luc levels at her.
Theres no pretense of her being a Francophile (unless ordering white wine anything French!
at a fluorescent-lit sports bar in Chicago before her departure counts).
She clearly didnt anticipate anything other than a midwestern future shilling pharmaceuticals and settling down with her bro-ey boyfriend.
Fetishizing French culture is overrated, and disrupted life plans can be hard to recalibrate.
But when her model changed, there wasnt even the slightest attempt at engagement with her new milieu.
Even her wardrobe emphasizes her complete misunderstanding of the local aesthetic.
Its yet another set of social cues Emily doesnt pick up.
In fact, all of the shows deconstruction of the French cultural landscape is relayedtoEmily secondhand.
All Emily adds to the equation is constant surprise that Paris does not remind her of Chicago.
Every male she encounters chides her for not learning French, then mostly just wants to sleep with her.
The designations American and young woman are already susceptible to ridicule.
With such built-in bad perceptions, presenting a more substantial protagonist very much seems like a worthwhile goal.
Because the condescension thrown Emilys way is not without merit.
Does anyone want to see a witless American stammer her way through the menu?
No more than anyone wants to hear about a French girls casual-yet-meticulous beauty routine.
Such caricatures are tiresome and far from the only depiction of young women available.
It would be nice, for once, to feature a more compelling one.
