A few years ago, while waiting for my flight at Guarulhos Airport in São Paulo, I strolled over to a nearby pastry stand. As I stood in line, an American man in front of me grew angry.
With a loud, exasperated voice, he jabbed his finger at the glass case, repeating, “Chocolate! Cho-co-late!”
The employee pointed her tongs at a slice of cake, repeating the word in Portuguese, “Chocolate?” Yes, the pronunciation was different (it was, after all, a different language) but any discerning ear could understand her.
However, it was not about understanding the young woman speaking the language of the country we were all currently in—it was about a self-indulgent, xenophobic need for control. It was obvious that this American man had refused to pick up any Portuguese phrases. He couldn’t even deign to learn that “chocolate” was “chocolate” in Brazil, too. It didn’t matter. Instead, he wanted the young woman to understand him, to capitulate to his version of the world, a world where all and every person, regardless of their nationality, fell over themselves to speak English, speak his language, and render his movements through the world easy and effortless. In that moment, he represented the quintessential American persona—a self-absorbed, narrow-minded way of looking at the globe, expecting the world to bow down to him.
This is Emily in Paris in a nutshell.
Honestly, enough has been said about this garbage fire piece of media. I didn’t really want to give it any more attention or time. The reviews and thinkpieces and ironic tweets only seemed to add fuel to the fire, drawing more and more eyes on this show. It felt like we were all “hate-watching” it—when, really, we were straight-up watching watching it and contributing to its trending numbers on the Netflix page.
But, a few weeks ago, I learned that it had been picked up for a second season. And, to put it simply, I was furious. I still am.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not surprised. As someone who consumes copious amounts of media, I knew it was only a matter of time. Too many people were talking about this show and Netflix greedily stalks controversy like a shark circling bloody carcasses in the ocean. But its relatively quick renewal still angered me, especially as I thought about Julie in the Phantoms, which premiered a full month before Emily in Paris and which continues to reside in renewal limbo. It still angered me as I thought about the cancellations of The Society (2019) and I Am Not Okay with This (2020) and Teenage Bounty Hunters (2020) and Anne with an E (2017-2019) and Sense8 (2015-2018) and The Get Down (2016-2017).
Unlike Emily in Paris, all of these other shows featured diverse casts exploring complex, nuanced storylines. On The Society, characters openly grappled with toxic masculinity, relationship abuse, and homophobia. One of the primary plotlines included a burgeoning romance between two boys, one of whom was learning how to sign so he could communicate with his crush, who was played by a deaf actor.
The protagonist of I Am Not Okay with This was a teenage girl coming to terms with secret superpowers, as well as struggling with past trauma and slowly falling in love with her female best friend.
Anne with an E delved into the racism of the picturesque Green Gables, including a plotline that investigated the kidnapping and abuse of indigenous children from their communities—and their forcible entry into “schools” that actively sought to strip them of their heritage.
Many of these shows ended with unresolved plotlines and massive cliffhangers. Instead of watching these stories unravel, we get Emily butchering the word “croissant” and extolling the virtues of capitalism.
Netflix rationalized the unusual decision to reverse its renewals of The Society and I Am Not Okay With This by citing prohibitive expenses tied to COVID safety production costs. Considering Netflix’s giant bank vault of gold coins, I was already suspicious of this excuse. Now, it certainly fails to hold water when confronted with Emily in Paris, a show that shoots on location in Paris and dolls up its characters in a dizzying array of couture. Frankly, this is an expensive show. This is an expensive, international show. At the end of the day, cancellations and renewals have far less to do with “production costs” and more to do with what Netflix considers worthy enough to invest in for more than a season.
Over the years, Netflix has thrown money at a number of projects, introducing a wide range of television shows that span distinct genres and running times. But which of these shows end up surviving past season one? In a savvy marketing move, Netflix continuously boasts a “diverse” television lineup, but then cripples any forward momentum with these same shows by cancelling them, again and again, after one season. Inevitably, the shows that do survive tend to feature a white-majority cast and/or widely-panned reviews. Netflix loves bad press. It means people are watching and tweeting and re-watching to tweet even more. Netflix loves hate-watching more than positive viewing. Just look at Insatiable—another critically reviled television show featuring a callous white female lead. In 2018, It was also renewed for another season, despite its bizarre, offensive, and explicitly fatphobic story arc.
And why the hell is there going to be a Kissing Booth 3 in 2021?
To an extent, we, as viewers, do indeed have power. We are the consumers. What we choose to watch and pay attention to and write about—it all matters. “Hate-watching” bad television can be a self-fulfilling prophecy, especially when we all keep talking about it and, essentially, dragging sloppy, poorly-written shows into the spotlight. But it’s naïve to assume it’s simply about popularity.
Like Emily in Paris, both The Society and I Am Not Okay with This trended Number 1 on Netflix’s Top 10 Page. Unlike Emily in Paris, these two shows were well-received by critics—and garnered a large positive social media following. When critically-acclaimed Anne with an E was unceremoniously canceled, thousands of fans campaigned for its renewal—they signed petitions, inundated Netflix with emails, put up a billboard. Even Ryan Reynolds tweeted Netflix, asking the company to reconsider its decision.
Currently, Julie and the Phantoms remains wildly popular. The Instagram accounts of its stars have exploded in terms of content engagement and followers. The show’s album climbed the iTunes charts and even reached the coveted number one spot. Many of its musical performances on YouTube have reached over a million views. It has a 92% Fresh rating on RottenTomatoes. So, what gives? Why has it not been renewed? The fans and the numbers and the attention are all there. But it didn’t matter for The Society and I Am Not Okay With This and it doesn’t matter now. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the show with the Afro-Latinx female lead and two interracial relationships has still not been renewed. Because Netflix is not interested in furthering these types of stories. They want their media easy and light and white.
Emily in Paris upholds the cultural status quo. It defends American nationalism. It defends American ignorance and apathy. Its lead is a thin, young, white, straight woman. The “villains” are everyone and everything that is not American. This is the story that Netflix chooses to protect and to recreate over and over again. It is the cowardly move. It is antithetical to the art that moves us and changes us and makes us think.