'The Idol' Treads in Edgy Territory
by EG
The new drama series The Idol, airing on HBO and the new Max streaming platform, attempts to follow in the footsteps of an earlier HBO hit, Euphoria. Like that series, The Idol creates an edgy vibe and sticks with it. But is that enough to make the show worth watching? Read on for details.
The trailers set us up for a memorable and haunted time. In the first teaser for the highly anticipated HBO series The Idol, a title card announced the show as a product of the “sick & twisted minds” of Euphoria director Sam Levinson and international pop star Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye. The second one hinted at an origin story: From “the gutters of Hollywood,” it read.
It’s always a bit suspicious when shows try to market themselves as edgy. What are they trying to prove? This obvious effort to make The Idol appear controversial took an ironic turn when the series became the subject of an explosive Rolling Stone report. Interviews with roughly a dozen people from the cast and crew revealed that the show, initially billed as an exploration of the seedy underbelly of Hollywood and the music industry, became what it tried to satirize. Sources alleged that after director Amy Seimetz was replaced with Sam Levinson, the drama’s perspective changed. Instead of subtly skewering the misogynistic and predatory nature of the business, The Idol became a forbidden love story -- the stuff of a toxic man’s fantasy.
Levinson’s The Idol unfortunately confirms that account. This is an older, even more stylized version of Euphoria’s second season. Instead of a high-schooler navigating her addictions, it’s a grieving pop star trying to stage a comeback. Jocelyn (a persuasive Lily-Rose Depp) spent the last year recovering from heartbreak and her mother’s death from cancer. In the first of two episodes of The Idol shown at Cannes, we see Jocelyn taking commands from a photographer. He asks her to give “sexy,” “studious,” “vulnerable” and “emotional.” As Jocelyn complies, the camera zooms out to reveal an entire operation buzzing around her. The photographer hovers, her assistant texts in a corner, her managers confer outside and the intimacy coordinator makes a desperate attempt to make sure the pop star’s nudity rider is followed. Stars, the show tells us, are corporations.
In the background of the shoot, Jocelyn’s label executive Nikki (an excellent Jane Adams) argues with the star’s creative director (Troye Sivan), who’s against Jocelyn baring her breast for the album cover shoot. She tells him to “stop cockblocking America.” That brief moment announces the show’s intention and puts a metaphorical hand up at incoming haters: Sex sells, and The Idol revels in that.
To what end is not very clear. The Idol, like that second season of Euphoria, runs almost exclusively on vibes.
Get the rest of the story at The Hollywood Reporter.