Less than six months after HBO released “The Franchise,” a Hollywood satire told from the perspective of a beleaguered film crew, and a little more than a year since Max wrapped “The Other Two,” a Hollywood satire told from the perspective of two siblings desperate to break big, Apple TV+ takes its turn reveling in the desirable and derisible business of film, only its new series, “The Studio,” makes the curious choice to focus on the trials and tribulations of the man at the top. Well, almost at the top. One of the tops anyway.
Seth Rogen (who also co-created the series and co-directs every episode with his friend and business partner Evan Goldberg) plays Matt Remick, a long-suffering studio executive who finally ascends to his dream job: the president of Continental Studios. Matt made a name for himself by championing an original superhero franchise, “MK Ultra,” which has grossed $3.9 billion across several feature films. But at heart, he fancies himself an honest-to-goodness cinephile. Matt supports directors who want to shoot on film instead of digital. He loves spending time on sets, ready to share a creative note (rather than a cost-saving measure). He nags his former assistant and current creative executive, Quinn (Chase Sui Wonders), to watch more classics, like “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” “Summer School,” and “Mannequin.”
But of particular note — given Matt’s position of power to greenlight productions and his responsibility to Continental’s bottom line — is his belief that auteur-driven masterpieces and box office juggernauts don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Despite being told by his scary, sun-cooked boss, CEO Griffin Mill (Bryan Cranston), that Continental Studios doesn’t make films, it makes movies, Matt decides he can do what virtually no other Hollywood shingle can consistently pull off (and which many don’t even attempt): produce record profits by focusing on great art, not great content.
Easier said than done, and each half-hour episode of “The Studio” revolves around an issue that spoils Matt’s righteous crusade. In the City of Navel-Gazing, inflated egos tend to get in the way, with swellheadedness stemming from movie stars, fellow executives, and Matt’s own vanity. The needy studio head is also a timid boss, as afraid of angering the talent or as he is of standing up to the powers that be. Public perception proves to be a regular hurdle, too, with his marketing chief Maya (Kathryn Hahn) shouting raunchy demands to make putting butts in seats that much easier. (“If he walked in this room, I would splay him on this table and fuck him to death,” Maya says about casting a respected character actor. “But he does not have the clout to carry a franchise.”)
Such high-profile conflicts provide plenty of comedic tension, and every so often, “The Studio” remembers to invest in the lives of its main characters, as well. Despite living his dream, Matt often feels lonely, which is understandable given the transactional nature of all his relationships (and his relatable yet off-putting inability to talk about anything other than movies). His No. 2 at Continental is also his best friend, but Sal Seperstein (Ike Barinholtz) is still very much a part of Hollywood’s self-serving ecosystem, which only loves you as long as you’re up. Midway through Season 1, we get a brief peek into Sal’s personal life, as well as Quinn’s, but no one in “The Studio” is deeper than a ticket stub. They don’t have time for personal lives or interests outside the office. They’re workaholic careerists who’ve sold their souls to the Tomatometer for a friendly shout-out on “The Town.” (Puck’s Matt Belloni makes repeated cameos both via his Ringer podcast and in person.)
Part screwball comedy, part cringe comedy, and part Apatow-inspired swear-a-thon, “The Studio” wants viewers to feel like they’re on the best studio tour ever — with Matt as their guide, they’ve got an all-access pass to every door in Hollywood. Rogen and Goldberg play up the access in a number of ways, from the celebrity guest stars and cameos that inundate every episode, to shooting in iconic L.A. locations like the Beverly Hilton, Musso & Frank’s, and all over the backlots. But most effective is their regular use of extended oners — long, unbroken takes that follow Matt around like a guilty conscience. He’s tracked from a snow-covered soundstage all the way back to his AC-blasted office; from his extended limousine, down the red carpet, and into the Golden Globes ballroom; from backstage at CinemaCon to onstage and back again. Heck, they even capture simple conversations without resetting, preferring to swoop back and forth between Matt and Martin Scorsese, capturing both sides of their back-and-forth without a single cut.
The viewing experience, in a nutshell, is like Leonardo DiCaprio pointing at his TV set, over and over, for 30 straight minutes. The constant recognition of so many people, places, and events contributes to a giddy sense of being there, in the board room where the next blockbuster happens, which bolsters the comic shenanigans captured with unwavering urgency. Feeling like you’re there helps emphasize what Matt has to lose, which is the underlying risk in each of his wild gambits. If things go wrong, he’ll never get to come back — no more parties with Charlize Theron, no more movie screenings with Anthony Mackie.
And like Matt, even if you know better than to do whatever it takes to stick around, it’s hard to leave “The Studio” behind. As strange as it can be to realize you’re being asked to sympathize with a moderately sleazy, mega-rich movie mogul — his film slate is not inspiring — you’re asked just as often to laugh at him and his cronies.
Speaking of, Rogen is doing his usual high-pitched panicked comedy, which still works quite well after all these years, but Kathryn Hahn and Catherine O’Hara bring the house down. The latter thrives during the occasionally labored long takes, leaning on her background in improvisational comedy to listen, react, and take command as needed. As Continental’s previous studio head, Patty, she’s indelibly delicate one minute and equally demented the next — a mentor to Matty who’s still recovering from the betrayal of losing her perch. Hahn’s part isn’t as integral — she’s almost exclusively comic relief — but she starts Maya at a manic 10 and just keeps pushing the throttle until she’s primed to explode in the finale — which fits her character, fits the narrative, and fits the need for absolute hilarity.
Perhaps “The Studio” is too limited in its scope to appeal to the masses and too reliant on its starry cast to hook those who aren’t already obsessed with pop culture. Its satire could certainly be sharper — its episode on casting is as daring as it gets, which is to say… somewhat — but the comedy is consistent, the story compelling enough, and the structure cleanly episodic. Even if Hollywood’s produced a zillion satires of itself over the years, it’s still fun to feel like you’re in on the joke.
Grade: B
“The Studio” premiered Friday, March 7 at the SXSW Festival in Austin, TX. Apple TV+ will release the first two episodes Wednesday, March 26 with new episodes premiering weekly through May 21.
