While watching THE STUDIO, the new Hollywood sitcom on AppleTV+, I found much of it amusing despite its satire feeling at least two decades out-of-date. Dramatizing commerce vs. art is hardly a fresh concept anyway, and yet the Seth Rogen/Evan Goldberg series acts like that’s the main issue confronting studios in a day when viewership is decreasing across all platforms and costs are making any form of content nearly an epic undertaking. (Have these guys read Variety in the last decade? Any success, be it a tentpole, franchise, arthouse hit, or series, would be entirely welcome by any studio, no matter what the RottenTomatoes scores yield.)
Fortunately, the problem plaguing THE STUDIO is not one marring the new show biz comedy ÉTOILE premiering on Amazon Prime today, April 24. The show is not striving to present yet another fanciful battle between commerce and art if its first two episodes are proof. (That’s what was made available to critics.) Instead, this series is much more up-to-the-moment, a knowing look at the ultimate struggle of any artistic studio or institution these days – the very matter of survival.
The arts, after all, are awash in debt, dwindling audiences, and competition from amateurs who fancy themselves artists on TikTok. These days, a shrewd and strategic public relations campaign is more likely to move the needle than any casting or roster. (Barbenheimer, anyone?) ÉTOILE savagely spoofs all such machinations in our modern times, laughing at it wholeheartedly, while still loving the players if not the game. It makes for a frenetically fast-paced showcase full of zippy zingers, perhaps the most per minute of any show since THE MARVELOUS MRS. MAISEL. Surprise, surprise, the same creators of that award-winning program – Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino – are the creative geniuses behind this one too.
ÉTOILE is the French word for star, of course, and one of the most clever aspects of the Palladinos’ series is how every character in it seems to want their day in the sun, er uh, spotlight. It’s not enough that the characters are making a good living in the biz, they want to hog as much limelight as they can to get maximum credit for being such stars in their field. The show could have just as easily been called “Ego” for all of it on display from every flawed and funny character the Palladinos have created here.
Those characters are all part of a clever PR scheme cooked up by two ballet companies to try and stay afloat by swapping talent across the pond for maximum press points. It’s a clever conceit, to mix up the stars, and create buzz and culture differences as newsworthy fodder, but pulling it off will require cooperation, give-and-take, and hard work – all ripe for satire amongst those not used to playing nice with others.
Those players include NYC artistic head Jack McMillan (Luke Kirby), a man so successful many think he should run for mayor, but so small as to need strokes in every waking moment of his life. His French counterpart is Geneviéve Lavigne (Charlotte Gainsbourg), a much more grounded director, but one embittered by having to work twice as hard as any man to get her proper due. Between these battling impresarios are various choreographers, dancers, and money men all wanting proper time in the limelight as well. Most notable is Crispin Shamblee (Simon Callow), an ultra-wealthy arms dealer who’s willing to fork up all the cash to sponsor the experiment, but also brazen enough to want a creative say in most of the decision-making. Such a character could be insufferable in an Elon Musk, Rupert Murdoch kind of way, but thankfully Callow has charm to spare. The veteran British actor/writer/director knows just how to make a good line a great one with his masterful timing and posh elocution.
The other main parts taking center stage are tempestuous Parisian prima ballerina Cheyenne Tossant (a hilariously go-for-broke Lou de Laâge) who comes to NYC kicking and screaming against her will, wunderkind choreographer Tobias Bell (Gavin Glick), an artist whose genius is only equaled by his eccentricity, and a few other ballet stars who haven’t fully been realized in the premiere but hold much potential as the season progresses. Watching them all sulk, maneuver, and hog the spotlight to feed their narcissism should be a hoot if the first two wonderful episodes are such harbingers.
In addition to the HIS GIRL FRIDAY rat-a-tat banter and scathing swipes at every element of the arts on both sides of the pond, the show dazzles with all of its locations used for interiors and exteriors as well. It looks like the series spared no expense in shooting all over Lincoln Center, not to mention the City of Lights, and such specifics give every second all the more authenticity. And how did the show afford all its many dancers, musicians, and extras? Suffice it to say, every penny is on screen.
At times, the characters edge a bit close to cliche or caricature, but the Pallandinos inject recognizable humanity into these selfish sorts which saves them from going too far over the top. Jack stops rushing about to watch an impressive rehearsal at the Center. Crispin takes the piss out of everyone, including himself. Most impressively, Cheyenne isn’t above buying a pair of ballet slippers for a needy child sneaking into the Center at night to practice. Everyone was once a hungry artist, and Cheyenne hasn’t forgotten her lean times. And her actions speak volumes.
Maybe that’s why everyone wants to be an étoile here; they struggled for love and attention in their childhood, just like that eager kid, and they don’t want to relinquish the light once they’ve attained it. Yes, the series is about what the art world is facing in today’s cost-cutting, fractured times, but it’s also about the classic themes of those in the arts wanting to stay in a place where they feel loved and appreciated. That’s the point here, one that the Palladinos keep on point throughout.
