ince its debut, Emily in Paris has become a global sensation with its aesthetically pleasing visuals but not without raising eyebrows for its lack of substance.

As the show progresses through four seasons, it gets increasingly clear that, behind the glitzy Parisian setting and high fashion, this is a show riddled with banalities, shallow narratives and a protagonist who defies logic. While some of its elements appeal to casual viewers, the series ultimately falls flat, offering nothing beyond superficial entertainment.

The plotline revolves around Emily Cooper, a young marketing executive from Chicago who is inexplicably offered a job in Paris despite her glaring lack of qualifications for the role. From that point, the show descends into a series of predictable tropes.

Emily, played by Lily Collins, is wide-eyed and ready to conquer the French capital with an attitude that is more suited to a tourist than a professional living abroad. The viewers are expected to believe that despite her lack of experience in both marketing and French culture, Emily continuously stumbles upon success. Her cluelessness is treated as quirky charm when it actually underlines superficiality and lack of realism.

From the stereotypical portrayal of French people as rude and snobbish to the idealised, romanticised image of Paris, the series fails to break new ground. Season after season, the plot rehashes familiar tropes about the American expatriate experience. Emily’s wide-eyed wonder at Paris is baffling by the fourth season, as it suggests a stubborn refusal to grow as a character. The charm of being a foreigner in a glamorous city wears off quickly, yet the show continues to rely on this one-dimensional narrative.

Emily lands prestigious clients, somehow effortlessly solves marketing crises with her naive ideas and consistently skirts the consequences of her professional incompetence. Her ability to remain in Paris for an extended period without substantial growth in her personal or professional life defies reason. By the fourth season, one has to question how her career has managed to survive the numerous disasters she walks into, many of which are of her own making.

The romantic subplots also fall into a repetitive cycle. Emily’s relationships seem to exist merely for the sake of creating tension but with no genuine chemistry to back them up. Whether it’s her on-again-off-again relationship with Gabriel, the elusive French chef, or her entanglement with various other love interests, the viewers are subjected to the same lacklustre romantic entanglements that do little more than fill screen time.

From the stereotypical portrayal of French people as rude and snobbish to the idealised, romanticised image of Paris, the series fails to break new ground. Season after season, the plot rehashes familiar tropes about the American expatriate experience. Emily’s wide-eyed wonder at Paris is baffling by the fourth season, as it suggests a stubborn refusal to grow as a character. The charm of being a foreigner in a glamorous city wears off quickly, yet the show continues to rely on this one-dimensional narrative.

Even the backdrop of Paris, a city known for its culture, history and vibrancy, is reduced to a playground for Emily’s silly larks. The show uses Parisian attractions and fashion to distract the audience from the mediocrity of the storyline. The picturesque settings and luxurious costumes are meant to mesmerise viewers. Still, by the fourth season, it becomes clear that the city has been exploited as a glossy postcard; beautiful but devoid of any real substance. Paris, in this series, is more of a commercial for tourism than a living, breathing city.

One could argue that Emily in Paris is not meant to be a serious or realistic portrayal of life abroad but rather a fantasy. However, even fantasy should have a coherent narrative. That is where this series falters. The storytelling feels increasingly disjointed as the seasons progress. The plots seem to go nowhere, leaving the viewers wondering what the point of it all is. There is no clear direction and no major conflict to drive the show. Instead, it is just a series of inconsequential events.

Perhaps the most frustrating part of the series is the missed opportunity to explore the supporting characters, who are often more entertaining than Emily herself. Two standouts are Julian and Luc, Emily’s eccentric colleagues at Savoir. Both these characters inject much-needed humour and personality into the otherwise bland office scenes. Their dynamic offers a glimpse of what the show could have been if it were less focused on Emily’s romantic misadventures and more on the inner workings of a Parisian workplace. In fact, Julian and Luc could easily carry a spin-off series, possibly as an office sitcom. Their witty banter, comical antics and rapport are more engaging and refreshing. If anything, they provide brief moments of fun in an otherwise monotonous narrative. Sadly, these moments are fleeting.

Emily in Paris relies far too heavily on its aesthetic appeal. The beautiful shots of Paris, the haute fashion and the glamorous lifestyle Emily leads can entice some viewers, but they fail to compensate for the show’s glaring flaws.

By the fourth season, it is quite clear that the show has little left to offer besides its visual charm. The shallow, repetitive narrative is worn thin. Julian and Luc remain the only saving grace, offering a brief but enjoyable respite from an otherwise uninspired show.

The author is a freelance contributor