Cinema is in a strange place right now. Every other major upcoming release seems to be either linked to safe, profitable IP or a rehash of a popular movie with a slightly tweaked premise. The theater has transformed into a place to see mere spectacles on the silver screen. Worse yet, thousands of films a year skip cinemas altogether! When venting my anger about the current state of movies, I blame studios and the executives without fail. My interest was thus piqued when I heard about a Seth Rogen show following a newly-appointed studio head who must balance his responsibility of making the studio money, his unbridled passion for cinema, and even his own ego. I expected an ultimately disposable good time that the most annoying film fan I know would be obsessed with. I received a gloriously hilarious ode to the chaos and the wonder of cinema… that the most annoying film fan I know would be obsessed with.

The single most impressive part of The Studio has to be its direction. Each scene in the show is filmed as a one-take, with there even being an entire episode revolving around a one-take shot in its entirety as one-take! The intensity of every scene is thus elevated, as a mere request, lie, or insult becomes thrillingly high-stakes. You’re immersed in the absurdity and the rapid pace of a studio’s dealings. The show also often pays homage to various film genres, tropes, and artistic choices, and its ability to harness those styles without losing its identity is a remarkable one. You’re always watching an episode of The Studio, even if this one happens to be a noir. In an age where so many creatives struggle to cement their style as they replicate that of better films and TV shows, it’s deeply refreshing to see.

Someone I’m not always refreshed to see is Seth Rogen, who sometimes relies on his charisma for characterization. However, I was quite impressed with his performance in this show. Though his direction and writing stand out more than his acting, he brings Matt Remick to lie wonderfully and is endlessly watchable as our lead. His comedic timing and delivery sell every joke. His internal conflict about what he’s doing to cinema is also quite compelling, and Rogen nails the (slightly) more serious beats too. He is accompanied by an entertaining ensemble, with Kathryn Hahn’s over-the-top douchey executive, Catherine O’Hara’s on-edge former executive (who tragically appears far less than I’d hoped), and Chase Sui Wonder’s straight-woman assistant all being a delight on-screen. But it’s Ike Barinholtz who wound up being my MVP as an out-of-touch studio executive that happens to be Matt’s best friend Sal Seperstein. His excessive, unapologetically obnoxious delivery earned my biggest laughs every episode. While he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, you never doubt for a second that you’re not seeing the genuine Sal. There’s an episode where he spirals about how behind the curve he is that I was surprisingly moved by. As someone who has enjoyed Ike Barinholtz’s bit roles in his previous films, I am so grateful that he was given an opportunity to shine and knocked it out of the park.

The writing of The Studio isn’t quite a knockout, but it is undeniably funny. A handful of the jokes do rely on expletives and raunchiness to garner the laughs, but largely the humor hits. The absurdity of the film industry is explored hilariously, with it being difficult to believe some of the idiotic and self-absorbed things that come out of these characters’ mouths. Yet at the center of every line is the simultaneous frustration at the state of the entertainment business juxtaposed with undeniable love for the medium of film. This conflict is explored in a fascinating way in the first episode, with some of the scenes being genuinely gut-wrenching because of how close to the truth they must be. Alas, it was a bit disappointing to see the overarching storyline be not much more than a theme for every episode rather than a recurring plot point. I enjoyed how it came together at the end, with its bombastic, endlessly chaotic ride of a two-part finale serving to the perfect conclusion to this anxiety-inducing, high-octane first season. Though the thematic messaging could have been better, I nonetheless appreciated the episodic writing greatly.

I fundamentally disagree with the idea that a TV show can be categorized as a 10-hour movie. The artistic vision and thus nature of storytelling changes vastly depending on the medium, as each has different constraints and possibilities. I thus strongly object to praising excellent TV by calling it “cinematic”. Yet with its riveting one-take scenes and countless homages to classic cinema, there is no word more suitable for The Studio than that. While the overarching plot was too fascinating to ultimately have so little done with it until the very end, every individual episode was a breath of fresh air that had me laughing hard one moment and biting my lip with stress the next. Its writing is chock-full of pent-up frustrations with the entertainment industry and clear adoration of the art form that is film. And truly, the show’s most admirable attribute is its earnest belief that making art is difficult, but seeing an artist’s vision be brought to life is the most rewarding thing in the world. The Studio may be destined to appeal to the most annoying film fan you know, but as that annoying film fan, I cannot deny how much it dazzled me. 

8/10