The way to think of Emily in Paris is not to imagine that it is set in Paris at all, but a kind of Westworld-style Paris-themed amusement park in the midwest designed to teach` young women lessons in life and love.
Has such a joie de vivre it's easy to ignore its faults and savor its deliciousness. It's the TV equivalent of a buttery, flakey croissant that you devour. Each episode leaves you wanting more-even if its airy plots are quickly forgettable.
Despite my mean-girl enmity toward the protagonist, Emily in Paris is strikingly watchable, an escapist confection brimming with easily digestible plots, costumes and characters. Turn off your brain and crank up Candy Crush.
The character of Emily was made for Collins. She's the perfect lead - captivating, endearing and punchy. And crucially, she's a woman who likes herself and knows her worth, which is glorious to behold.
Technically, Emily in Paris is well-made, but the show's shortcomings -- from its simplistic depiction of French culture to its paper-thin protagonist -- make it more of an irritation than an indulgence.